She didn’t move for several minutes. Her muscles had locked themselves and refused to move, she couldn’t even will herself to turn off the water. Thoughts raced too fast for her to comprehend.
How could he know? No one was supposed to know? I didn’t even slip up! I got the story right. I don’t want to go back. Sweet Soldeus, what do I say to Robert? I don't want to go back. He didn’t say he would say anything to him, so maybe I don’t have to? Yeah. Yeah, if he doesn’t know that ourstoryisn’tironcladanymorethanmaybeIcanstillstay.
The familiar sound of Robert clomping down the steps sushed the screaming train of thoughts in their tracks. She willed her hands to stop their shaking and turn off the water. Only the water stopped.
“Alright, so Finns gettin’ settled in upstairs.” She tried to hide her hands by slowly drying them with a dish towel. “I’m sorry ‘bout not discussin’ this with you sooner. If you’re not okay with him staying here though, just say the word darlin’ and his fishy ass will be gone.” He said the last part with a chuckle, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that almost made her crack right there. He wanted her to know that her safety took priority, she wanted him to know of the dam of uneasiness that was about to overflow. If they kicked this man out would he be angry enough to alert the town about who she really was? Did he even know who she really was?
“I’m okay Robert.” She tried to keep steady eye contact with him, she couldn’t tell if she was doing a good job or not. “Really, I am.” He didn’t look too convinced but nodded, trusting that she would say something if she really wasn’t.
Dinner that evening was…interesting. Robert cheerily made dinner with Davina, humming away his favorite songs, while she tried not to meet Finn’s eye as he sat in the doorway chatting with Robert. His yummy eyes, her mind quietly whispered. She shook her head so quickly that Robert sent her a questioning look, one that she smiled away.
While they ate, Robert kept up the conversation. He wanted to know how the latest fishing season was, which routes they took, and any interesting stories Finn and the crew went through. Davina didn’t say much, only humming in interest or nodding every few minutes so as to not draw suspicion.
On a normal day Davina would be beside herself with hearing tales of distant waters, perilous storms, and choppy seas, but in that moment her mind was too loud to focus on anything else. What will I do if the collectors come? Can I even go back to the shrine? Surely they wouldn’t allow her back after she ran to avoid her ceremony. There’s nowhere else to go.
To her surprise Finn made attempts to include her in the conversation, and he even sounded interested in her responses when she finally answered. As long as Robert was around he was civil and the stern crease between his brows melted away.
When he wasn’t starting daggers at her, or giving her the cold shoulder, Finn wasn’t…too bad. It was obvious that he and Robert knew each other, they joked and mentioned things the way that old friends did, and she was enjoying how much Robert was laughing. The man smiled so hard that the scar on his face disappeared into his laugh lines.
Perhaps if they kept up this charade things wouldn’t be too bad.
⟴
After three days of living under the same roof as the man, Davina thought she would have better luck trying to befriend the crazed squirrels that lived in the attic. No closer to gaining his trust, and unsure if it was intentionally avoiding her, she had given up trying to be friendly. Cups of tea she made him went untouched and cold, he didn’t acknowledge her attempts to speak to him when they were alone in the house, and those green eyes of his wouldn’t meet her gaze directly unless Robert was in the same room. Who am I kidding, he’s definitely avoiding me.
Up before the sun, Davina spent her mornings making and eating breakfast with Robert. She’d busy herself with alphabetizing a bookshelf or cleaning the many jars and papers lying around the house while Robert greeted his usual guests.
Lorisia stopped by with their clean laundry and chatted with Robert over a cup of tea. A man named Rowe Bullens popped in and got a refill of something that had once been in a squat looking jar, handing Davina an apple from one of his many pockets on his way out. Miriam Fowler even stopped by around lunchtime, swapping Robert a basket of freshly baked bread for more of whatever it was he was giving her.
Like the previous days Finn came out of the office after they had finished eating, looking as though he had just woken up although it was the middle of the day.
“Mornin’ sunshine!” Finn waved off Robert’s sarcastic greeting, and plopped into one of the dining room chairs. “What? They didn’t have clocks on that ship of yours?” He chuckled at his own joke and Davina couldn’t help but grin into the pantry where she was polishing some of the large pots.
He laughed dryly, “when did you get funny, old man?”
“Whatcha mean? I’m always funny first thing in the morning, ain’t that right Loir?”
Poking her head out of the cramped pantry she chortled back “and gets punnier throughout the day.”
“Isn’t it a bit early to be ganged up on?” Finn asked, his head resting atop his arms.
“The sun sets in three hours boy, you’re gonna be nocturnal if you keep this up.” There was an undertone of concern behind the playful teasing. Even though a foldable cot would be coming in two days, she knew Robert felt guilty that Finn was sleeping on the small couch in his office
Davina was beginning to wonder just how hard the life of a fisherman truly was. For someone who slept for sixteen hours he doesn’t look well rested. Not that she had stared, but there was a light shade of pink creeping into the corners of his eyes and rings starting under them.
Leaning back in his chair to glance at the clock that Davina had fixed, Robert cleared his throat. “Alright, well if ya don’t mind, I’ve got an errand for you to run Finn. Nothing too crazy, just a few things too far for these old legs of mine.” When Finn yawned in agreement he added, “that is if you can handle bein’ out in daylight of course.”
Pushing himself away from the table, Finn muttered that he “needed five minutes,” and shuffled drowsily up the stairs.
Davina sighed in relief, relaxing a little at the thought of him leaving. Much of their routine had stayed the same, but she’d enjoyed the steady calm of living with Robert. Occasionally she could pretend like nothing had changed, but then the sleepy black cloud would round a corner or suddenly appear behind her, and the muscles in her shoulders would tighten.
Robert’s gravelly voice calling her from the living room made her suddenly feel guilty. Though he was cold and distant with her, Finn was still a friend of Roberts. She could push through a few weeks of discomfort if it made the man who’d given her a new life happy. She’d swallow hot coals for the man.
“Yes?” She found him standing next to the fireplace, a brown parcel in his hands. Seeing her confused face he gestured for her to sit in the chair in front of him.
“Okay, so you don’t have to keep ‘em if you don’t want to, but I thought you might like them.” Did he seem nervous or was it just her imagination? She had seen him unsure and cautious, but nervousness was rare in Robert’s voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“What? No, nothings wrong- just, here.” He took the lid off the box and pressed it into her hands. “Now I know they’re probably too big for you, but I didn’t want anything to squeeze your feet.”
She looked down into the box and immediately looked back up at the man with wide eyes.
Scratching the back of his head he continued, “they ain’t much but they’re sturdy. So-” the rest of the sentence was cut off as the shock of Davina flinging her arms around him in a tight hug momentarily stunned the man.
“Thank you.” Never before had anyone given her a gift, let alone a gift as thoughtful as her first pair of shoes.
The stunned Robert returned the girl’s embrace with a mumbled “you're welcome” and a pat on the back. When she released him and bent down to retrieve the shoes that now laid scattered on the floor, having tumbled off of her lap. Clearing his throat once more he urged her to see how they fit.
The shoes were flat, with a rounded top, and a small strap and buckle that ran across the middle of them. Their color reminded her of April Saunders’ cat Snowball, whose fur was so rich he was impossible to spot at night. Tears pricked against her lashes when she slipped both of her feet into the shoes. She’d often wondered what it would be like to wear shoes growing up, the thought normally occurring on days when the ground was muddy or covered in several inches of snow. She tried to make her eyes suck the tears back in, emotional blubbering not a part of the tough façade she was trying to wear in front of Robert.
“They fit alright?”
“They’re perfect,” she beamed. The feeling of something encasing her feet would take a little getting used to, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “Thank you. I-I don’t even know what to say.” Her train of thought had been reduced to a hysterical pile of goo at the man’s kind gesture and it had yet to solidify itself.
Giving her a small relaxed smile he picked up the empty parcel from the chair saying, “don’t mention it kid. You’re family, it's what we do.” It took all of her willpower not to burst into tears and hug him again, especially how he had called her family so casually.
Their moment of familial bonding was interrupted by Finn clomping down the stairs. He looked marginally more alert and lively than he had a few minutes ago. Dressed for the steadily dropping Bridlo weather, Davina could see the edge of a long-sleeved shirt peeking out from under a thick sweater. An even thicker hat hid his dark messy hair, and Davina knew his steel toe boots were heavy after she picked them up from the middle of the sitting room last night.
Robert checked the clock once more before nodding in approval. “Alright so most of the things I need are in Merchant’s Corner,” he said as he passed a piece of paper with his slanted writing on it to Finn. “The rest Simmons should have waitin’ for you, he knows you’re coming.” Davina had met the shop owner a few times. The man talked so much and so enthusiastically that the small glasses perched on his nose would slide down after a few syllables. “It shouldn’t take you two more than an hour or two to finish.”
Wait what? Thinking she must have heard him wrong, Davina didn’t say anything and replayed the moment over in her mind. Finn however was quick to voice his opinion.
“What do you mean ‘you two’? Thought I was just goin’.” She tried not to feel too hurt by the weary undertone in his voice. Was the thought of going somewhere with her that awful?
“It’ll be too much for one person to carry. You’ve got a problem?” Any casualty and friendliness was gone from his voice, the underlying threat of if you have a problem with her then you have one with me hung in the air. Staring at her new shoes felt safer then looking at the staring contest between the two men.
“Not at all, was just curious is all. You never mentioned it before.” Finn was quick to brush the moment off, glancing down at the list in his hands while cooly mentioning that he was “always the last to know things in this house” and chuckling dryly before tucking the folded list in his pocket.
Robert grunted once, which Davina interpreted as good or glad that’s settled, and then passed her the sweater she had been wearing earlier. “You may want to layer up, kid. It’s gonna be cold out.”
Glad the gentleness had returned to his voice, Davina threw on one of the baggy sweaters she’d come to love, and an old coat of Annes that Robert had found while cleaning out the attic.
Hearing the familiar groan of the front door she turned to see Finn tilt his head towards the street below. She took that as his way of saying I’ll be outside, although she wouldn’t put it past him to leave her and head into town without her. The part of her stupid brain that still got excited whenever he walked into the room wanted to run out the door after him. The more rational side of her mind was drowning in both excitement and anxiety.
Except for the first day she had walked through the streets of Redwell in search of 1229 Bell st, Davina had yet to venture through the town. The farthest she had ever journeyed since she started living with Robert was next door to the cat-filled Saunders home. It had taken a few weeks for Robert and his guests to spread the word that his daughter had come to stay with him, and now that people whom she had never met were able to instantly recognize her as Lori Stokes, she had started feeling comfortable with the idea of leaving the house. Her fear of seeing the shadow man had slowly withered away, now it only emerged in her dreams.
Turning back to say goodbye to Robert, her eyes full of questions, he assured her that he would answer all of them once she came back. He handed her two burlap bags and practically shooed her out the door. She was surprised to see Finn still waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. Nothing about his tired expression gave her hope that this would resolve any issues between them. The gust of wind whipping across her face silently agreed with her.
⟴
Merchant’s Corner was the beating heart of Bridlo. People from all over the county were constantly coming in and out of the busy town square, which never looked the same twice. Stalls were hastily built as the sun rose and sluggishly torn down as it set. Davina would often see traders coming in from the docks, pulling carts full of baked goods, spices, piles of clothing, yards of fabric and cloth, and heaps of metal. She often liked to imagine where the traders came from and what their lives were like beyond the market.
Each county was famous for something unique to their region and the market would be her chance to travel the country without ever leaving Bridlo. Bridgeside, the island off the southern coast of Nescio was known for their textiles. Most of Anne’s old clothing sported sewn on tags that read Made in Bridgeside. Covered with dense forests, Notrose was the sole lumber supplier for the country. The shipment of logs dedicated for Soldeus carvings came from there, and just thinking about it made her suddenly miss the hours she’d spent whittling with Sister Zinnia or Sister Viola. She tried to stuff those memories back into their box and focus.
She assumed the stalls from Hilrock, known for their herbs and agriculture, would be their primary focus. More things for Robert to fill into his never ending collection of jars, no doubt. Although Idela was known for their scholars and wealth of knowledge in alternative medicine, perhaps they would visit those stalls as well.
She thought of all of this instead of the thick silence between her and the man standing three feet to her right. When she tried to start up a conversation about what was on the list he had simply pulled it out of his pocket and held it out to her, so much for talking. It also didn’t help that the wind would now and then blow his intriguing scent of saltwater and coffee in her face. She tried to ignore how the sharp smell of the sea reminded her of afternoons spent overlooking Malden Bay, and daydreaming instead of doing her chores. How it reminded her of home. Or how the nutty smell of the coffee made her think of the afternoons where the two men would debate about which drink was superior, and Robert threatening to throw out his coffee beans while he slept if he continued to sully the good name of tea.
He smelled like both of her homes.
In an attempt to hide her slightly wet eyes, she really needed to get a better grip on her emotions, so she studied the list.
Shit to grab :
Spike moss- if it’s brown and shriveled don’t buy it
Horsetail- two jars
Polypod- (Simmons) vial of white powder
Maidenhair Fern- (Simmons) syrup, powder, cream
Blue Cohosh- like all of it
Poppy- just the seeds, if they offer you anything else walk away
Evening Primrose- small vial of yellow oil
Ginseng- root
The note was very...Robert, straight to the point with a splash of concern and annoyance.
“We’re here, lemme see that.” Plucking the list out of her hands he reread it and glanced at the bust square before them.
Merchant’s Corner was never not busy. People were milling about, a swarm of color and sound. As they walked through, sellers called out to the packed street, announcing their merchandise or low prices. The more popular stalls were the deeper the crowd, Davina couldn’t even tell what some of the stalls were selling, unable to see over the backs and heads of those in front of her. As her wide eyes took in the bustling sight, she was almost carried away by a group of jostling women who ran to a stall claiming to have the newest fashion from Bridgeside. She was thankful for Finn’s towering height, it made spotting his red hat easier in the crowd.
Catching up to him, breathless and disheveled, she found him glancing between the list and a small stall off to the left. He glimpsed at her quickly from the corner of his eye, not having realized they were separated and then kicked himself mentally. Bobby would kill him if she were to get hurt on his watch, even if she wasn’t really his kid.
“C’mon, the one we want is up here.” Had she not been so astonished by the square, she would have fixated on how he had willingly spoken to her without Robert’s presence to compel him to do so.
The stall in question was small. It was crudely held together with planks of wood, rope, and large stones wedged in front of it. A large tattered tarp provided shade above them, and flapped lazily against its ropey restraints. The stall’s table was covered in baskets of colorful produce, some of their leafy stalks blowing in the breeze, and bags of dried fruits and vegetables. A large red scale was the only other thing on the counter. Davina couldn’t help but place her hand on its silver plate and see how much her hand weighed.
“Well aren’t you an odd looking squash,” came an amused voice. Finn, who was busy inspecting a basket full of pale yellow stringy roots, turned and lightly swatted Davina’s hand off of the food scale. He gestured to the small gray-haired woman standing behind the counter.
Davina blushed tomato red and nodded a sheepish greeting and apology to the woman. The seller came up to the girl’s chest, her bushy hair giving her back the few inches that her hunched shoulders took away. Her face was a series of deep frown lines and drooping eyes that were enlarged by the lenses in her glasses.
A thick wheezy cough left the woman’s throat, “now what can I do for the two of you?” Although the woman was looking at the two of them, Davina wasn’t so sure her drooping eyes were actually open.
Finn’s voice sounded comically deep in comparison to the seller’s gummy wheeze. “How much for the ginseng?” his hand swept back towards the basket of stringy roots.
“Ah,” the woman sighed and slowly tottered towards the basket in question, Davina’s joints hurt just watching her. “I’ll give you two for five coppers.”
She let her mind wonder as Finn and the old woman argued over the five coppers, finding the stall across the street selling chickens more interesting. Her eyes only left the little boxes filled with brown and white fluffy hens when a flash of red moved in front of her face.
“Here.” Focusing, she realized Finn had placed an apple in front of her far away gaze, and he was quietly munching on one himself.
Stunned, she sputtered out a “thank you” and took the shiny fruit from his outstretched hand.
They walked in silence as they searched for the rest of the items on Robert’s list. The next stand had spike moss and horsetail, which they purchased from a man who hastily grabbed what they needed as he spied a potentially wealthy client behind them. They bought as much blue cohosh as they could from a woman who had flowers and a feather braided into her hair. Davina had liked the woman instantly for her smoky and calm demeanor, and liked her even more when she realized Finn seemed creeped out by her.
One of the burlap bags was already full and slung across Finn’s back, with the second halfway full by the time they acquired the evening primrose oil and the jar of poppy seeds, which Finn insisted he also carry. He had thoroughly confused her. The chilling and dark persona he had been so keen on keeping up around her had relaxed at some point, and she wasn’t sure why the sudden change had occurred. Was this part of a plan? To lull her into a false sense of security and then hand her over to the Collectors? Was he actually trying to be friendly? Her mind settled on the likelihood that Robert had sensed the tension between the two and had spoken to Finn about trying to be kinder towards the girl.
In reality, Finn had only begun to doubt the idea of the girl being a manipulative mastermind as he watched her in the square. He caught her repeatedly staring off into space, smiling at the livestock and small children she passed by, and gazing at the stalls like she had never seen a market before. She seemed too innocent and harmless to pose an actual threat, so he might as well stop giving her the stink eye. If he was honest with himself he kind of liked how her face lit up as she saw something of interest, although he would outright deny it if anyone asked him.
⟴
As excited and thrilling as exploring Merchant’s Corner was, Davina was over it after an hour and a half.
The sun had crept behind the trees and what little warmth it had provided was sucked out of the air. The chilling wind seemed to creep under her beige dress, seep in between the layers she was wearing, and even managed to find its way into her new shoes, she was numb with cold as they walked towards Marcel Simmons’ store. Davina tried using Finn’s wide shoulders to absorb the brunt of the harsh wind, but not knowing why she was practically walking underneath him, Finn fell into step beside her.
She almost ran down the block when she saw the large sign that read Simmons Showroom in thick clunky letters hanging above the shore. She wasn’t exactly sure what Simmons sold, nor did she care as she flung open the door and welcomed the gush of heat from the rusty furnace in the corner.
Robert bought the bulk of their food from here due to the small discount the store owner gave him, and due to the fact that the men had known each other for several decades. The store itself was half groceries, and half…everything else. Walls were covered in misaligned shelves, hooks holding mismatched clothing, and filing cabinets that spewed small bits of plastic and old paper onto the floors. The place oozed chaos and it was easy to see where Robert’s taste in decor was inspired from.
Marcel Simmons looked like one of the objects he was trying to sell. His clothes were a good size too large on his small frame, his light graying hair he clearly tried to cut himself, as it hung in choppy spikes across his head. The small glasses on his nose were held together by bits of dried glue, and hung precariously low on his thin nose.
“Well if these old eyes ain’t deceivin’ me, it’s our little Guppy and Bobby’s girl.” The mismatched man was leaning against one of the many glass display cases that held food, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Finn’s exasperated groan of “don’t call me that” was drowned out by Davina’s confused and amused inquiry of “guppy?!”
Oh I've gotta use that, she thought to herself as she noted Finn’s reddening ears.
Shoving the shaggy hair out of his eyes Simmons turned his playful gaze towards the young man that towered over him. “My, what are they feedin’ you on that boat? If that head of yours gets any bigger we’re gonna have to resize all the doors in the county.” He threw his head back at his own joke and Davina covered her own chuckle by coughing and clearing her throat. Finn still shot her an annoyed look and stalked towards the counter, holding out the list as though he wished nothing more than to give the shopkeeper a paper cut.
She gave him space and stood near the front windows, admiring the various displays in the shop windows lining the street and enjoying the heat the furnace gave off. A fluttering out of the side of her eye caught her attention. She hadn’t noticed before, but as she looked up and down the street there was a white square every couple of feet, taped to windows, stuck in the lamp posts, and one even drifted down the block having come loose from somewhere.
Finn’s footsteps behind her alerted her of his presence before his gruff and tired voice did. “Come on,” he held up the filled second bag, “let’s go before he starts telling old stories about me.”
After jokingly insisting that they stay longer he gently pushed her out the door, mumbling about the “crazy old man” under his breath.
As they rounded the corner of Bell st, Davina spotted more of the white fliers. “What do you think those are?” Getting closer to one of them she spotted the seal of Neacio in bright red at the top of the page. There were tiny black letters printed underneath it but she was too far away to make out what it said.
“No idea.” It was the hollow and emotionless tone in his voice that told her he knew more than he was letting on, but she didn’t understand why he would lie about knowing as simple as a piece of paper. A sharp gust of icy wind made her gasp and draw her fingers into the arms of her coat, “let’s get you home.” Maybe it was the voice delivering it, but those words sounded magical to Davina. Home.
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