Chapter Text
Kate stepped out of her carriage onto rain-glazed cobblestone. Bernard, her driver, was already holding out an umbrella, but she declined him with a wave of her hand. It was a light drizzle at best, and she’d never minded the rain. She her way across the street and bid Bernard farewell, coming to stand before an ornate wooden door. She paused for a moment, steeled herself, and then knocked twice, short and sharp. A well-dressed man with a hooked nose answered it, looking her up and down with a professional disinterest.
“Hello, how may I help you?”
“Yes, I’m here for the Pollok House. The auction.”
“Welcome, you're at the right place. May I have your ticket please?”
“I don’t have one.” Kate replied, earning the slightest inkling of a frown from the doorman.
“I see. Well, I’m afraid that all our seats are currently reserved, but if you’d like I can put you down in case any open up. What was your name again?”
“Kathrine Donevan.”
The man paused and gulped quietly. “Ah, well. In that case I’m sure something can be worked out for you Ms. Donevan, not to worry. If you’ll come with me right this way?”
Kate nodded and stepped through the door behind him, trying to ignore her building sense of discomfort. She followed him through several short halls and turns until they came to a large open chamber already filled with chattering guests. A wide seating area faced an open stage, curtained off on both ends. Every seat was filled by the wealthy attendants of this place, their expressions eager or bored with little in between. As Kate took stock of the Pollok House, her guide went on ahead and conversed under his breath with another attendant. Nodding sharply, he made his way to a seated man sporting an elaborate waxed mustache and said something Kate couldn’t make out through the din. He raised his voice, visibly outraged, but the attendant said something else, and he turned to glance at where Kate still stood by the entrance. With a huff, the mustachioed man stood up and left, shooting a parting glare at the attendant but very carefully not looking at Kate. He’d likely complain about it later, but whatever rumors and drama would spread among the nobility, Kate was completely certain that no blame would be placed upon House Donevan for his indignity. Some things were simply beyond reproach. Her guide gestured her over to the now-empty seat, and once she assured him there was nothing else she needed, departed with a nervous bow.
The other guests were careful not to stare, but it was clear they had noticed the disruption as Kate came in. They shot curious glances when they thought she wasn’t looking, whispering under their breaths to those nearby them. Kate tuned it out. After a few minutes, the chatter died down as a presenter in an ostentatious green suit came onto stage and began his introduction. Kate didn’t pay much attention, clenching and unclenching her hand under the folds of her dress where no one could see. She only realized he was done when the sound of applause broke out around her. She hurriedly raised her hands to join in, glancing up at the stage. The presenter had departed, and the first of the night’s wares had been arranged on display. Slaves.
One by one, the announcer called them out. He listed their skills, histories, capabilities. He explained how they’d been broken in; how obedient they were. Kate didn’t look too closely as those already on stage were purchased one by one and new wares were brought out. She scanned them as they came out, but had no interest in any she saw. She grit her teeth and tuned out the sounds and sights around her.
It wore on like that, and Kate lost track of how many slaves had been displayed and sold over the span of the event. With each new stock brought onstage, her jaw clenched tighter, her nails bit deeper into her palms. Time became a blur. She hadn’t been around this many people for this long in ages, and it was harder than she’d expected. Sounds and sights seemed to ripple as though muffled by deep water, and the patch of wall she fixed her eyes to seemed at once incredibly distant and large enough to fill her vision. She blinked. Colorful shaped danced behind her eyelids. Finally, she stopped making any attempt to pay attention, focusing solely on maintaining composure. Breath in, breath out. In, out. Combined with the need to appear calm and composed, the mere act of staying still took enough mental effort to distract her, and she slowly came back to reality –or at close as she ever got, these days, looking in as though through warped and soiled glass. It was good enough.
No longer at risk of falling apart, Kate soon found herself contending with another struggle: she was achingly bored. The problem with realigning with reality was that now she had to sit there in it as time passed the numbingly slow rate it was supposed to. She hated it, and as more slaves were walked out she had almost resigned herself to a failed excursion when another slave was brought onstage and she did a double take. Kate’s breath hitched and her palms got clammy as sudden spike of adrenaline clearing her fugue like a sunbeam in the fog. The girl wasn’t unusual among the other slaves sold tonight, beautiful but not enchanting, which didn’t count for much in an establishment this prestigious. Her hair came down to her mid-back in a straight curtain of honey-brown, and her colorful silks left little of her frail physique to the imagination. She made her way onstage steadily, turning and posing as prompted by the auctioneer, her pale eyes passively sweeping across the crowd. Kate’s own gaze was locked onto the girl, and the moment a price was called out she raised her marker, barely even hearing the number she was responding to. Several other guests called out bids and Kate upped her own, until a few rounds in her impatience grew and she called out some absurdly large number to cut to the chase. She didn’t know what she ended up saying, she was barely paying attention, running on autopilot. A fraction of her attention managed the motions of her body, the words coming out of her mouth. The rest was locked on the important part, the listlessly smiling slave girl standing on the stage, a picture of apathetic obedience. She still didn’t look away from the girl as the auctioneer announced she was the winner of the bid, and as her new slave was ushered through the curtain to be prepared as the auction continued, Kate’s restlessness returned in full force, and by the end of it she was fairly certain her discomfort had become noticeable to those watching her. A small part of her chastised her for the sloppiness, for letting her façade slip even that tiny bit. She couldn’t find it in herself to care in the moment. That wasn’t real, it didn’t matter. This mattered. She mattered.
She stood as the auction concluded, exchanged words she was barely paying attention to with another staff member, and opened her mouth so all the correct polities could spill out of their own accord as the girl was brought to her. A small, engraved metal plate was held out, and Kate pressed her hand absentmindedly onto it, feeling the electric warmth tingle across her palm as the arcanic mark was transferred. With a wave of her hand, Kate prompted her new slave to follow her as she left the Pollok House and stepped out onto the street. Bernard was waiting for her with her carriage, and she made her way up and into it, the girl in tow.
Once inside, Kate took her seat. The girl moved to kneel at the foot of the bench, and Kate’s stomach turned. “No, up here." Her voice was hoarse.
“Yes Mistress,” the girl chirped out, sitting stiffly on the bench next to Kate. She wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her close, but she remained still. Not yet.
The carriage trip went by slowly, but Kate was too distracted to notice. She jumped when they pulled up, and thanked Bernard in a dazed tone. Beckoning for the girl to follow, she made her way inside Donevan Manor, passing through wide halls lined with frowning portraits, dining halls left long unused, checkered tiles stained with age, shelves free of dust only where they could be reached by hand. There was no one else in the house, the few servants required to keep it standing all hosted elsewhere. Finally, mercifully, they reached Kate’s bedroom. She waved the girl in and closed the door, luxuriating in the silence even as the echoes of her footsteps chased her. She let out a deep, shuddery breath.
“Sit on the bed,” she commanded, voice choked.
The girl complied with a soft “Yes Mistress” that made Kate nauseous. She climbed on to the bed next to her, and for the first time found the strength to meet her eyes. They were a pale, almost ghostly green color, but the irises were all but occluded by the yawing, blown-open pupils. Her eyes didn’t flick back and forth correctly, instead sweeping around the room in even, measured arcs that made Kate’s hair stand on end. It wasn’t a way human eyes moved. She broke her gaze.
“Turn around,” she commanded, her voice harsher than she intended. The girl complied without complaint or hesitation, and Kate moved to look at the back of her neck. A tattoo done in thick bands of bold ink, intricate cords wrapping around and over another in snakelike glyphs, sat at the base of her spine. Holding her hand over it and focusing, Kate could feel the slight static current of it, like the field it was producing moved and responded to Kate’s own touch. The ownership mark. It was hers now. Closing her eyes, Kate searched for the arcane sensation until she found the correct frequency of tingling and angled her palm until the pulsing felt correct. None of the movements or sensations were truly accurate to the arcanic forces involved, of course, but it was the easiest way she’d found to interpret arcane fields, and it worked well enough for the small magicks she’d picked up.
Leaning in close, she whispered into the eerily still girl’s ear. “I’m going to turn it off now. Try to relax, and don’t worry about falling or collapsing. I’ll catch you." The girl inclined her head mechanically, slowly, to show that she had heard, but otherwise made no motion, not even in response to the tickling of air in her ear. Kate felt another shudder, but pushed the revulsion aside. Breathing out, she felt the contours of the metaphorical knot of arcane power and with a deliberate twist of will released one of the bindings set in place, sending a pulse of static throughout the girl’s entire body as the puppeteer charm was broken.
The response was instant. Mel jolted, twitched, and collapsed against Kate’s body, arms curling against her torso, head tucking in as the tendons in her neck rippled unnervingly. A low, primal groan tore its way out of her, rising in pitch as the trembles became shakes became spasms. Her limbs and digits clenched and twisted in a full-body muscle seizure, and her wail took on a raw animalistic edge that made Kate’s eyes sting with tears. A charm like this meant full bodily control, the human nervous system programmed like a machine. Undoing it was never going to be gentle. She wrapped her arms around the agonized girl, squeezing tight in an embrace that was as much a hug as it was an attempt to limit her body’s ability to hurt itself as her nervous system rebooted. She tucked her chin over Mel’s shoulder and made soft shushing sounds as the erratic contortions slowly ebbed.
Finally, the seizing had calmed and she merely wept and trembled in Kate’s arms, the sobs edged with something jagged and broken which left little room for breathing in between. Kate squeezed tighter. “I know. I know, baby. Mel. What can I do?” She didn’t respond, and though the sobs were quieter now, it didn’t sound like she was having any more success getting enough air, so Kate gripped her by the hair with one hand and gently pulled her back, using the other to block the weak protestations of Mel’s jittery arms. Her face was red, her eyes swollen, her mouth hanging open as rough gasps tore her throat. Kate gripped her hair tighter, winding it around her fingers, and tilted her head back with a sharp tug. Her other hand snaked up to rest gently on Mel’s neck, thumb pressing on her throat lightly. Her breathing hitched, and her glassy eyes focused on Kate. She sobbed and made a pained blubbering sound that might’ve been an attempt at words.
Kate pulled her hair harder and pressed down with her thumb, squeezing firmly around her neck, tight enough to give the sound of her broken breathing a choked quality but not enough to silence it altogether. She leaned down to rest her forehead against the feverish skin of the sobbing girl and maintained eye contact as she slowly increased the pressure around her throat, her own eyes stinging at the sight. Mel tried to wince and pull away as Kate tugged her hair sharply, but she had no room to move, pinned as she was by Kate’s grip. She whimpered helplessly and her eyelids fluttered, but her limbs were still tensing and shaking and so Kate squeezed harder. She had almost reached the point where she’d be reluctant to go tighter, when all at once Mel’s entire body went boneless, collapsing sloppily like a marionette with its strings cut. Her half-lidded eyes met Kate’s, and she relaxed her hold on Mel’s hair, threading her fingers through it in a gentle soothing motion as she released her neck.
Mel drooped languidly against Kate’s body with a pleased groan, no longer limp but still loose in her movements. After a few gulping lungfuls of air, her breathing evened out save for the occasional residual hitch. She curled tightly against Kate, burrowing her head into the folds of her dress.
“...Thanks." Her voice sounded nothing like it had under the charm, the forced cheer absent and even the way she annunciated her words different. Kate squeezed her tight, heart pounding.
“Of course." She placed a kiss on the top of Mel’s head. “Are you okay to talk, or do you need to rest?”
She squirmed in her arms, but raised her head, reddened eyes meeting Kate’s own. Her face was wet with tears, and strands of her hair were matted to it. “Mm. I can talk, I think."
“Okay”, Kate whispered, brushing strands of wet hair out of her eyes, stomach flipping lightly at how each gentle touch brought another flutter of eyelids and another soft gasp from Mel. “First thing’s first, just so I know what we’re dealing with: how long since they put you under?”
“Uhmm. Oh, uh, three years, I think? It— It wasn’t the whole time though." Her voice was loopy and slurred, the gentle contact already melting her into a keening puddle. Her eyes began glassing over before another idle touch brough them back to focus on Kate. “Mm. S’good. Keep doing that?” Obligingly, Kate brushed a leaky tear from the corner of Mel’s eye, and then moved her other hand to hold her head from either side so she could tilt it back slightly. Mel let out a shocked “Ah!” as Kate maneuvered her body, yelping in delight and surprise with every new adjustment. Her arms now free, she brought them shakily up to curl around Kate’s back, gripping her tightly with trembling fingers.
“Oh baby. Mel." Kate brought her closer and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry." She clenched her eyes closed and fought back tears as she pulled her close. Mel’s fingers danced up her spine as she held her.
“Mm. No, don’t be. You found me.”
To her shame, Kate felt a whimper escape her throat. “But it took so long. I couldn’t find you, and I let you get hurt and look what they did to you, and I should’ve found you sooner, I should’ve killed him sooner, and I’m sorry, Gods, I’m so sorry, I just—”
She was interrupted by Mel’s lips on her own. Her words died in a puff of perfect and safe and things are right again and it’s okay, and MEL, and she collapsed into the sensation and lost herself in it. It was desperate, Mel pressing against Kate, Kate biting her lip, their teeth clinking together sharply. Kate had no room to feel anything else in that moment, and it took several seconds after Mel broke the kiss for reality to return to her, dumbstruck and panting under her breath. There was an odd look in those pale green eyes. “Did you say you killed him?”
Kate nodded, unable to find words. Mel’s voice was a whisper. “Your father? I can’t imagine you mean someone else, but I don’t want to assume”.
She nodded again. Her throat closed up and her eyes burned. She couldn’t breathe. Mel looked at her for a long moment, and Kate waited for the concern, the judgement, the worry, the pity, to appear in Mel’s eyes. It didn’t. She only smiled grimly, spoke softly under her breath. “I wish I could have been there." A trace of bitter amusement tinged her words.
Kate let out a relieved half laugh, half sob, and though it was devoid of humor it made Mel smile anyways. After a moment, Kate shifted and brought a small pendant from under her shirt. It was simple, just a broken chip of porcelain with a cord running through it, but Mel’s eyes filled with a strange sort of reverence as Kate held it up. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “You were."
Mel was quiet, her fingers reaching out to gently caress the hanging shard. “You kept it?”
“Of course I did, Mel. It’s the most valuable thing I own."
Mel looked up at the pendant in rapt wonder for a moment, before giggling softly and lying on Kate’s lap, staring up at her with wide-eyed adoration. “You own me now, though." She said it lightly, teasingly. It made Kate’s stomach churn.
“I could never own you.” Her voice came out too stern, too abrupt.
Mel stilled, something unpleasant passing through her eyes, then extricated herself partially so she could sit facing Kate. “Kate… It’s okay, you know that right? I don’t resent you for it, I never would." Kate said nothing, and Mel took hold of her hands gently. “Besides, don’t you want me to be yours? You can’t tell me you don’t."
Kate was silent for a moment, considering. “No more than I want to be yours."
Mel shook her head, forehead creasing. “No, that’s not—” She took a breath. “I mean, I know what you mean." Her voice got lower. “And I know. I know. I love you too, so, so much. But Kate, you do. You bought me. You have my mark."
Kate flinched violently, unwittingly. “Mel, I—”
Reassuring fingers trailed along her arms. “Kate. It’s fine. I mean it. Why is that so hard for you to believe?” She let her head fall against Kate’s chest. “You saved me. You came back. You—” Her voice broke, new tears welling up. “I don’t—I don’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want to be anything else. Can’t I just be yours, just for now? Please?”
It felt wrong, felt sickly sweet like some cloying poison dripping through her veins. But slowly, haltingly, Kate brought her arms up to cradle Mel’s head, running them through her hair gently with shaking fingers. “Okay. Just for now though, alright? We’re still going to figure this out, promise? Even if we don’t right now, you have to promise me that we will. Can you do that?”
Mel let out a sigh of relief and nodded vigorously. “I’m sorry Kate. I… I know how this feels to you. It’s not true, okay? I just— I think I need to ease into it. Being me. A person. I know that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry." She was crying again, sniveling into Kate’s lap as she turned and buried her face in the fabric. Kate gently ran her hands through her hair, traced her ear, wiped a tear from her eye.
“Okay." Her voice was soft. There was something heavy in it, but she placed it aside. She could do this, and her own demons would have to take second stage until the ones haunting this precious, wonderful, priceless treasure of a girl were cast out. She leaned down and rested her chin on Mel's head, eyes closed. “Okay. If that’s what you need, for now."
Mel looked up, blinked slowly. The sheer adoration in her eyes made them seem to fill half her face, and Kate could scarcely imagine how those same eyes could’ve ever looked so hollow and empty under the blasphemous desecration of the puppeteering charm. Her lower lip trembled, but her smile was pure and genuine. “I can’t believe it’s you. This feels like a dream."
“I know. It does for me too, but Mel, I promise it’s not. And it’s not like last time, either. No one else can hurt us, I’ve made sure of it. You’re safe here. We’re safe here."
Mel’s eyebrows creased, though her smile didn’t fully fade from her face. “Okay, hm, We’re probably going to need to talk about that later I think?” She gripped Kate’s hand in both of her own and brought it to the side of her face, curling up so she could lie against it. “Not right now though?”
“Not right now, baby. Do you want to rest?”
Mel nodded, an affirmative hum her only verbal response. “Okay. Let me up for a couple minutes? I’ll get changed and put out the light."
Mel protested weakly, hands trailed over Kate’s arm as she slipped from beneath her, but she let her go without complaint. Kate paused to look at her and realized that she was still wearing the flimsy silks from Pollok House. “Would you like me to get you something better to wear?” Mel looked down and shook her head before she began to sloppily remove her garments and throw them onto the floor, gesturing for Kate to carry on. With a surprised laugh, she slid off the bed and went to get changed, putting out the various lamps before returning to the sight of Mel huddled beneath a veritable nest of blankets up to her neck, gesturing in the gloom for Kate to join her. With a sigh she slipped under the sheets, feeling Mel’s limbs intertwine with her own in a messy, desperate embrace. Tucking her chin into the crook of Mel’s neck, she hugged her close and whispered gently in her ear. “I love you."
She was rewarded with a delighted squirm before Mel mustered up the ability to speak once again. “I love you. You’re so good. Always so good to me."
“You’re so precious," she replied. "You deserve everything. You deserve the best."
Mel giggled dreamily. “Mm. Yeah. I think I might have it though."
Kate's heart ached and she didn’t reply, only twining her hand through Mel’s hair. Soft, comfortable sounds came from where she buried her head against Kate’s shoulder, and soon gave way to sighs as she slipped unto unconsciousness. It took a lot longer for Kate to fall asleep, but as she lay in the darkness and felt the precious warmth of the only important person in the world, she found herself in no hurry to. When sleep finally did come, it was softer and gentler than it’d been in years.