The Sentinels Too much sauce

She dreamed vividly—of Lost Creek Hollow, of her family, of wide, vast deserts on faraway planets—but she wouldn't remember any of it upon waking. That was all right, though, because she would remember everything else. When her hunger and thirst became fiercer than her body's need for rest, forcing her eyelids to slowly peel apart and flutter, she came awake. She sat up slowly, groaning, but not because her head hurt (miraculously, it didn't) or because she felt out of it (a blessing after the past few weeks) but only because the memories rushed back to her in an instant and she was Larkspur Ostrega again.

Birds trilled nearby as she slowly sat up and blinked two days' worth of sleep from her eyes. She was weak with hunger and thirst, yet there was no disorientation here. She recollected with scarily perfect clarity running into Deirdre during the storm and witnessing the spell. The spell! Her lips parted on a gasp. The young witch's spell had worked yet again. Spur wished she was here so she could hug and kiss her for hours, for days, forever. Give her companion thanks for all she had done to help Larkspur and her family.

That word ("family") triggered Spur into a sudden, breathless stillness. She remembered that day on the beach, when she and Mordecai had mistakenly trespassed while on their search for Pippin. She recalled Skellige chasing her down, grabbing her by the neck and tossing her out into the sea. With slightly less clarity, she even remembered the immediately subsequent events: fighting the waves, dragging herself onto the beach, meeting Amayo... but she wasn't Spur's den mother, just like Skellige wasn't her father, just like she wasn't Sharkbait. Her heart stopped a moment as she wondered about her true daddy's fate, then began racing when she realized the utter farce of her stay in Stavanger Bay.

Wave after wave of anxiety washed over her, pulsing in her core, and Larkspur sipped in shallow breaths as she leaned against the cool wall nearest to her, her eyes slipping shut. Where was @Deirdre? She had already done so much for Larkspur but she needed her best friend more than ever now, to help her figure out what to do and where to go from here. Dizziness threatened to drag her back under but Spur fought to stay awake, to regain control of herself, lest she slip away and forget everything all over again.

the girl was never far from the medicinal den she let her beloved larkspur rest. deirdre frequently cleansed her, and brought her flowers and food in case she awoke. deirdre carried with her now a long-eared rabbit, fresh, for larkspur to have if she woke this day. deirdre was not sure what to expect, but she defined patience in her willingness to wait.

she slipped into the den, her eyes adjusting quickly enough to the hollows dimlit atmosphere, and what she witnessed caused her eyes to widen and her tail to wave. deirdre deposited the creature upon the earth and nosed it toward her, before stepping near the girl warily. larkspur...? do you remember me? do you remember yourself...?

She found comfort in the birdsong overhead and, slowly but surely, regulated her breathing and opened her eyes, sitting up somewhat again. Her face was still angled toward the floor and it was then that she noticed the various items scattered around her: bits of cold food, a throng of flower petals, a strange object that resembled a turtle shell and several other things. Spur's heart did a butterfly motion in her chest and she smiled quietly, knowing it was Deirdre who had brought her these gifts and who had looked after her while the magic did its work on her.

She wondered how long she had been asleep and how many days had passed in drudgery at the bay. But before Spur could dwell on it very long, Deirdre herself appeared. The golden youth immediately sprang at her pale companion, mindless of her weakness, and pressed her face into her neck. She then nuzzled her way up to the witch's cheek and sighed softly against the corner of her eye before drawing back to meet her familiar verdant gaze.

"It worked, Deirdre," Larkspur replied. "Your spell worked."

it was larkspur who sprang at her, but deirdre did not withdraw. the warmth of the others words tickled her earlobe, and deirdre could have wept--no, she did weep! her eyes were wet with tears as happiness, utter happiness, engulfed her. larkspur! she celebrated her spells success in the breathless word that was her beloved friends name. she stood as a scaffold to her friend should her limbs feel weak from hunger and thirst, both.

you remember? she breathed into the others shoulder, before withdrawing to look to her. yes, yes, it was true recognition--and she had said her name with the love she fondly remembered and yearned for! oh! you must drink, larkspur, and eat--there is a stream nearby, but within that shell there is some water... and this rabbit, its fresh, she looked to it, and back to her friend, her eyes still wet with joy-filled tears!

Starbuck had not strayed far, taking to duty gladly. In Deirdre's absence Starbuck sat within the den, watching over the youth in her slumber, or stretched before its enterance. When Deirdre was about, Starbuck gave her distance. She knew little about Larkspur but that she was important to Deirdre, and that was enough.

When she returned from a quick trip to relieve herself, Starbuck heard voices within the den. There was Deirdre's, soft but eager. Larkspur must have woken. Starbuck chuffed to announce her presence, then settled a small distance away. She was close enough to come if needed, but far enough to give them the privacy they deserved.

Larkspur began to cry too, swept up in Deirdre's emotions and her own. It was all very overwhelming. But these were mostly tears of happiness and relief as she continued to press against the young witch. Only when urged to eat and drink was she reminded of her body's pressing needs. She drew back, gaze falling to the floor again. She hadn't realized the shell was full of fresh, clear water. She didn't need to be told twice. Larkspur dropped to the ground, lapping greedily, emptying the dish and then turning to begin nibbling on the rabbit Deirdre proffered her. As she drank and ate, her heart brimmed with even more affectionate gratitude for her friend.

Oblivious to the stranger seated just outside, Larkspur paused as soon as the harsh edge of her hunger and thirst was satiated and tipped her head back to gaze up at Deirdre. "Thank you, Deirdre," she said softly but with feeling, eyes still wet and glistening. "You saved my life." Skellige, Amayo and the other wolves of Blackrock Depths may not have harmed her physically (aside from the Leviathan throwing her to the ocean's mercy) but she had been more or less their victim and prisoner. By restoring her memories, Deirdre had freed Larkspur from their imperceptible prison.

Suddenly, Spur tensed when she remembered just how close they were to the bay still. She hated to ask even more from her best friend but suddenly she was pleading, "Deirdre, will you keep me safe? From them?" Spur's guileless blue eyes stared frightfully in the direction of the territory next door. "They tricked me. They..." There was a word for what they'd tried to do to her, though it took her a moment to procure it. "They brainwashed me, Deirdre," she said pitifully.

of course, she murmured, her voice soft and faint, her eyes expressing: when it can be done, i will always save you! she would never wish to see larkspur perish, and to see her mental anguish had caused deirdre's heart much grief. but things had been set to right, now--her magic had seen to this.

when larkspur began to plead, deirdre moved to touch the others temple placatingly. there is nothing to keep you safe from, my darling larkspur, she murmured, her voice soft and earnest, skellige, who acted as a father figure to you, would never wish to see you hurt. he sought you, and i assured him you were well, and in my care. he is a good man, deirdre was gentle, her voice but a feather on the wind. he told me of what had happened--that you, in your fright, moved into the bay... that he thrust both you and your father into the waters. you emerged, though your father has yet to... she grimaced. larkspur... you came into donnelaith, as well, two days ago when a fierce storm had been passing through--we are not the sort to harm others, and i am so glad it was me to find you! there is a point to this--i promise--for the other day, there was a wolf that had come to our borders sick and ailing, she had been poisoned. perhaps she made the same mistake elsewhere... if that were to happen to you, she shuddered to even think of it, and drew nearer to hold the woman she felt fiercely protective over close to her heart, if permitted! but as larkspur spoke of being brainwashed, deirdre frowned, and withdrew, peering into the others eyes. is such a thing possible? larkspur, tell me all that you have seen, she coaxed, drawing nearer. she gestured to the earthy floor, and opened herself to the other if a head-rest, or open arms, was desired. lay, if you are weary, and if you eat, do so slowly; your stomach will likely be upset if you drink or eat too quickly, she forewarned, ever the caretaker to the golden ray of sun before her.

starbuck was outside, she heard then, and deirdre smiled. ah! my friend, starbuck, is just outside; i would like for you to meet her, too, when you feel you are ready--she helped me in watching over you. i think that you will like her very much, deirdre peered over her shoulder, oh, i hope that you do! you are both so wonderful, ah! the ingredients to her very heart were nearly all present!

Part of Larkspur expected Deirdre to immediately rise to her defense, to swear to guard her against her nemeses at the bay. She even somewhat expected the young witch to cast some sort of spell to ward them away. Instead, Deirdre spoke fondly of Skellige. The food in Spur's stomach curdled as her friend spoke. Her eyes flew wide, brushing briefly and disbelievingly over Deirdre's face before falling pointedly to her own paws. Her heart lurched. How could her friend call him a good man, then in the next breath mention that he had tossed both herself and her father into the sea... the latter of whom had never resurfaced?

Spur heard nothing of the poisoned wolf, as that was when she began to cry, this time in confusion and grief. Had Mordecai perished that day on the beach, tossed like trash into the sea alongside her only to sink where she had not? Soft little mewls of agony soon built into wrenching sobs. It was her fault if Mordecai had suffered such a fate. She had wandered into the bay's realm, had darted off like a frightened bird and earned the Leviathan's ire. She cried harder with each minute, collapsing to the floor in part because Deirdre coaxed her to settle herself but mostly under the weight of her own emotions.

She felt betrayed, by Skellige and even (much more devastatingly) by Deirdre herself. The man had posed as her father after slaying her true sire; how could the witch think him a good man? "He threw me into the water," she bawled to Deirdre, simultaneously upset by her and needing to vent to the girl who was her best friend. "He threw my daddy into the water. He's dead! He's dead, Deirdre!" This time, there was no magic as Spur seized on the floor, but nor was it a true malady. This was simply the paroxysms of grief and horror gripping her tightly and wringing her for all she was worth.

deirdre was broken, as larkspur was. there was no reasoning with misery, but it loved company--deirdre would not argue on skellige's behalf, for what he had decided to do. only skellige could justify this truly to larkspur, as deirdre could not explain violence, it was not her way. but as the daughter spoke of death, the death of her father, deirdre wept. she knew the feeling of such a loss! her own father, after all, was buried in the earth of donnelaith, gone, dead to the world.

i will never let any harm come to you if i can help it, larkspur, she breathed against the girl, her voice a sob. your father may live yet. the waves carried you back, why should they not have carried him? the ocean is as wide as it is deep--hold on to hope, larkspur. hope is a cruel and beautiful thing, but let us not speak what we do not know for certain, lest the world think that we will it! she looked to the heavens as she said this, casting her mystic thoughts to the heavens: she did not mean this, she does not will it! if mordecai lives, let him be returned... a prayer, before she offered thanks, and looked back to the girl.

she sighed. the man who had plucked you from the ocean... he has saved me, more than once. he and his customs are entirely new to me. he is a warrior, firstly, but he has a heart. i detest his actions against your father, against you, she admitted, wanting larkspur to know this, though i am no warrior, and i do not respond, in the way he does, to those who go beyond donnelaith's borders. he and his wolves are protectors of donnelaith; they ensure no violence comes against us, so that we ourselves may always remain peaceful, skellige is a good man, he means well; he protects. he was protecting... but the wounds she saw to larkspurs person were wounds to her, and she was hurt, and shook with this hurt.

Deirdre whispered hope in her ears, telling her it was possible Mordecai was not dead. Larkspur hiccuped and fell still on the floor of the hollow tree, worrying her bottom lip as she contemplated this possibility. If she had washed ashore, perhaps he had done the same, in a different place. Maybe he was even back in Marauder's Keep with her mother and Silas by now. That thought made her heart skip a beat. She longed to see her loved ones, for her broken apart family to come back together. Maybe Pippin, too, had returned and she was the final piece to make them whole again. She could only find out by returning to the Keep.

On some level, Spur knew there was truth to Deirdre's words, that even a good wolf might deal mercilessly with trespassers. And she and Mordecai had crossed a line, however unwittingly. Still, the golden child could not simply brush off what he'd done to her, particularly his deceit. She shivered when he remembered that she'd called him daddy all these weeks and suddenly pushed back to an upright position, gathering her strength to rise onto all fours. She did so shakily.

"Deirdre, what if my daddy's back at the Keep? What if Pippin is too? Will you help me get home?" Spur whispered, feeling utterly drained on all levels. But she needed to see them. They were, after all, the most important wolves in her life, excepting perhaps the fair witch herself, whom the Ostrega loved deeply even despite her defense of her captor.

deirdre thought of skellige, and his desires for the young girl. her memory had returned to her, and deirdre wished for the cub to favor him, not resent him--it was deirdre's job to do just that, and she would! but her heart advocated for larkspur, as well, and her own fierce love for her, independent of anything else. deirdre pressed her nose lightly against larkspur's own in a brief, affectionate gesture. they both may be, deirdre admitted, i would help you return, after you eat and are rested. i will certainly tell your mother of your whereabouts. perhaps she could come and see you, and return you to the keep,

and, after a beat, deirdre looked to her paws, both wary and hesitant, but inclined--due to her own proclivity for the girl--to ask, or, perhaps after, if you wish... you could remain here, with me, and her eyes then looked upward, thinking of a great many things in that moment.

Whether or not it would prove to be true, Spur decided to clutch onto this hope that her father and brother had both somehow safely turned up at the Keep. Deirdre assured her that she would escort her there to find out as soon as she had recovered from the spell. Part of her wanted to argue, insist they go now, but she had no desire to defy the witch. Besides, she knew Deirdre was right. If she had been out of it for a few days, she needed some time to rebuild her strength for a trip like that.

Then her friend mentioned sending a messenger for her and Spur brightened. "Please," she breathed, then delighted even more at the notion of her mother coming to visit and collect her. But then she remembered. "My mommy's leg is broken. I don't think she can come here..." Harlyn had broken her leg the very same day Pippin had vanished. Spur's lips pursed, some of that cursory glow fading again.

Deirdre's next question scattered her thoughts. She had caught herself wishing a time or two that she lived here or that her friend could accompany her back to the Keep. But it had always been nothing more than an idle daydream. And as much as she wished for it, Spur's immediate instinct was to decline. She needed her family. They needed her too. They had been apart for far too long and she wanted nothing more than to become the happy family unit they had once been. Besides, she was too young to be on her own yet. She wouldn't even be an adult for another month or more.

She opened her mouth to answer, only for it to clap shut softly. She was nearly grown. She had somehow survived without a family (or, rather, with a fake family) for weeks now. And Larkspur knew that, even if they were all together again, that things would never go back to the way they were in Lost Creek Hollow. She would forever cherish that brief golden era of her childhood but those days were gone. Maybe it was time to let go and find her happiness in a different place.

Instead of answering, Spur found herself whispering, "Do you wish that? For me to stay? With you?"

deirdre nodded; she would do this for her beloved larkspur. if the girl could not yet depart to go there, then deirdre would ensure her mother was wise to the fact that her daughter lived yet. more than that, there were many eyes that would be searching for mordecai. she frowned to hear of her mothers injury, and she moved to nose her. when you are well enough, you may see her, of course--it was only a suggestion... perhaps i could look at her leg, she hummed, thoughtful. she had healed the broken leg of a ferret, perhaps a wolfs might be similarly healed. it required much rest, and even more things were required for the pain.

time passed, before the other responded. deirdre counted every single beat of her heart: one hundred twenty-three, it hammered so fiercely! deirdre did not look away, only nodded. with all of my heart, i do, she admitted, her voice vulnerable, i can never leave donnelaith--i am to be its queen, one day. you are my best friend--to have you here with me...! she was thoughtful, her thoughts running wild. there is magic within you, larkspur, different than my own and yet similar... i could help you with what powers you might hold! larkspur's druid mother was the cause of the supernatural feel deirdre could sense about her, and deirdre knew that she could only assist larkspur in blossoming to the full flower she was meant to become.

When Deirdre spoke of tending her mother, Spur couldn't help but ask hopefully, "Is there a spell you can cast? To fix the broken bone?" She felt her cheeks flush a little after the words left her mouth. Her friend had already done so much for her. Surely she must be wearing on her patience, maybe even draining her powers. That thought sobered her into silence.

Deirdre filled it with proclamations of adoration that warmed Larkspur from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes. Her brows arched when the fair witch mentioned becoming a queen someday. She was the friend of a princess? Although that word made her briefly recollect Amayo's ministrations on the beach, she flicked that thought aside. Deirdre was the genuine article, magical and royalty. That she wanted Spur with her was deeply flattering and almost made the younger girl want to cry with just how deeply affected she felt.

"Okay," she breathed. "After I check on my family..." Spur trailed off, her eyes seeking Deirdre's spring green gaze in the dim light of the tree's interior. She stared into them a beat, then declared quietly, "Then I'll stay here, with you, Deirdre." Her stomach flip-flopped and her heart danced in her throat, yet this nervousness was tinged with a radiant excitement and deep love and affection.

The swarthy titan had called on the borders for his permission to enter the forest realm. It was vastly different from the shore where he had spent his life, and while Deirdre had spoken of magic and great things, he could not sense it. The trees were thick and tangled. He picked his way through them with lengthy strides. When he had visited before, the child had been in a world where she was not living or dead – she had slept for a long time. Skellige had studied the borders impatiently waiting to hear some news that the little Sharkbait had survived and was well once more. He wanted to take the child back to her home and to begin teaching her the ways of the depths.
 
When he closed the space on the area where the child was being kept, his ears were pulled forward at the sound of a young voice. Picking his pace up, the leviathan lingered for a moment near to Deirdre and Sharkbait before he offered a chuff of arrival. Then, the shadowy figure moved forward and captured the small golden pup in his gaze. “She’s awake,” he breathed – there was almost a tone of relief in the gravel of his voice.

sort of assumed she knows skellige's name, since she probs saw him behind the scenes at some point. another cameo post, feel free to ignore!

As she listened- and oh, she tried not to, but she did not want to go far- Starbuck's mood became stormier. She did not think herself prone to envy, and even now she approached it clinically. After all, she had only recently come into Deirdre's life, she couldn't expect to be as close to her as others that had known her longer. Larkspur was dear to Deirdre, and Starbuck could manage that. 

Starbuck was less pleased to see Skellige, who did not seem so respectable in light of Larkspur's story. It was not her place to deny him entry, but she frowned at his approach. She feared that his presence would upset Larkspur, who was in a delicate condition and did not need the added stress. If events progressed negatively, Starbuck vowed to step in. Of the three women, she thought herself the most capable of warding off unwanted company, much as it would pain her to do so.

deirdre heard his howl, and forewarned her beloved gently, that is skellige--he comes to see if you are well, no doubt. he cares for you, she told larkspur this in a faint murmur, though she was unsure if the sentiment would matter to the other, or if she had no love at all for the titan who had displaced her father. the anxious look in the eye told her what she needed, and deirdre knew that she could not rush the others healing. if larkspur were to ever have any love for skellige herself it would need to come from her true heart, and not forced; at present, the girl feared him too much that there was room for neither love nor hate! but to suffocate her with his presence sooner rather than later would cause her to suffer, cause fear to fade and resentment to grow. deirdre would not allow any hate at all in the others heart if she could help keep it safe from such darkness, so pure and beautiful it was. not toward skellige!

she rose to all fours, hearing him before she saw him. deirdre made an attempt to veil him from larkspur's view, knowing that only if larkspur desired to see him she would--she did not, however, attempt to veil larkspur from skellige, in knowing that he did care for her she would not hide that she had awoken from her comatose state. skellige, she greeted, her ears shifting atop her head. she is still in a sensitive state--we must not overwhelm her with too much, too soon, her eyes held fast to him, it is the doctors orders that she sleep, now, to replenish her body and her head both, she peered back to the girl, for a moment, knowing the memories would continue to come. you see with your own eyes she has awoken, but she is still recovering, and this requires more rest. come away with me, she urged, looking back to skellige, now, and gesturing outside the den, her eyes expressive: please.

Their beautiful moment of bonding ended abruptly when Skellige made his presence known. Larkspur immediately shrank back against the rear wall. The kindness he had shown these past few weeks was greatly overshadowed by the unearthed knowledge of what he had done to Spur herself as well as Mordecai. A deep pang went through her when she thought of her daddy. Then something altogether unfamiliar passed through the child's heart. Forgotten momentarily was her fear, her deference and even her affection for the pale witch Deirdre.

Trembling from head to toe, Spur shoved past both Deirdre and the guard at the door, angling toward the unwelcome guest as she screamed, "What did you do to my father?" Her eyes flashed meaningfully so that Skellige would make no mistake that she knew of his terrible lie and was asking about her true father. "Where is he?" she cried out again, shivering as this strange feeling—bravery, perhaps, or foolishness—seemed to electrify every nerve in her small, golden body. Nothing on this earth mattered more than her family, not even her own life.

The pale witch had greeted him, warning that the child was in a state that was not to be disturbed. Deirdre feared that seeing him would push the child over the edge. She had moved to pull him away from Sharkbait and to lead him back toward the wood, but before she was able to truly turn the wraith around, there was a flurry of movement and a sharp cry.
 
His dark eyes fell on the child, and his expression did not change. He regarded her with a frown while she yelled at him, fur bristling and eyes wild. She wished to know what he had done with her father – she wanted to know where he was. A sigh fell from the leviathan’s lips as he turned to glance toward Deirdre for only a fraction of a second. There was no way that he could be pulled away from the distressed child. Her anger had fueled her out to him to inquire about her family, and though Skellige would have believed that her priorities were misguided, he was pleased to see the fire in her gut. That very same anger had been what had fueled him through his youthful years. Perhaps the sea had not betrayed him with her.
 
“I have done nothing to your father,” he growled quietly, furrowing his brows over his eyes with a deepening frown. “He was taken to the waves, just as you were. You are younger and smaller than he, and somehow you managed to wash up,” his tone was gruff as he rolled the words off of his tongue. “Surely, he’s found himself on a shore down the beach.” There was no reason to dampen his words for her, to make them softer. Surely, Deirdre would have wanted him to speak with more tact, but Skellige was beyond that. “Trespassers are not permitted on claimed land. It is the way of wolves – he should have known this. Instead, he tried to follow you into my territory,” his tone was growing more agitated as he recalled the sheer stupidity of the encounter.
 
A huff fell past his lips and he shook his skull back and forth. “He did not ask. He did not wait. When I had my kin hold him into place, he struggled to fight, and if he is willing to fight a wolf who was only trying to hold him on the borders, I did not know what other harm he would cause if he were set free.” Her anger was pleasing to him, but it was unwarranted. She had directed the fury at the wrong person – she should have turned it inward. Had she not foolishly run toward the depths, her father would not have attempted to follow. If she was old enough to cry in – what she believed to be – justified rage, she was old enough to realize and to regret that her actions had caused them both to be tossed to the mercy of the depths.
 
“Entering Blackrock territory was a mistake, but still I tended to you when you washed ashore – acted as a father figure. You can resent me for the rest of your life, but you have very little reason,” he ended with a curling lip over yellowed canines. Once he had finished speaking, the swarthy sea wolf turned his head toward Deirdre with an expression of awful frustration. He turned to move away from the child as she had instructed before Sharkbait’s outburst. Skellige was certain that she would feel as though she were attacked, but he was not the type to soften the lash of his tongue.

less of a cameo. hate to butt in but there's no way she'd just sit there.

Immediately Starbuck knew that she had been correct in her assessment that Skellige's presence could do no good. Whether either party was right about where to lay blame, Starbuck did not care. Both seemed to have been wronged, and Starbuck found comfort in that balance. She was not going to take sides for the sake of the argument, but for the patient.

Larkspur was growing increasingly agitated, and Starbuck feared now that this would interfere with her recovery. In her heart of hearts the seer wanted the girl to see her family again, and slowing her recovery would only delay that. In light of that desire, Starbuck found herself moved to action, though she wasn't often one to stand up to wolves like Skellige. I must ask you to leave, she ordered. Deirdre spoke true, kind neighbor. Your presence is upsetting to Larkspur, who must rest if she is ever to recover. Please, leave her be. If you must have your piece, have it, but not now. As Skellige stepped away, though not because of her words, Starbuck stepped closer in support of her friend and (as she saw it) charge.

her silence was but the calm before the storm.

skellige saw it fit to respond to larkspur, which perhaps was his right, but she wondered if he understood that his words, at present, would be largely ineffective in the face of the girls own agitations. one could not speak sense into emotion, and deirdre, wise to the mind and to the heart both, knew this with astounding clarity. perhaps larkspur would wish to respond, perhaps this, too, was her right, but deirdre bid her patience with a simple look, prayed that the girl would be clairvoyant to her wish. her own tongue was filled to the brim with words, and once starbuck had spoken, deirdre's tongue was a fiery whip that set ablaze between the duo! lightning leapt from her eyes as thunder rolled from her lips, the storm of a hurting heart a woeful tempest that she thrust out of her person in but one word!

enough, deirdre spoke with an authority that she had not once used in her lifetime, but every fiber of her being exuded it. there was a crown upon her head, there, and she wore it well before them all, fearless and commanding both. if there is a time and place for any of this, it is not here. no more, deirdre cautioned, and when she looked to starbuck, she spoke, gentle but firm: he has heard me, and we go. he spoke when spoken to--he does not know, as we do, of what is necessary for her recovery, which he will soon. i ask that you leave the commands to me, for she had already spoken to him, and surely if he had known that his words were fruitless in this time he would not have wasted his breath so! he was not a man of them, after all, but of action. she knew that starbuck meant well, and sighed heavily. deirdre would not have those she loved most at war with one another! she needed larkspur to heal, and if skellige wished to participate in this recovery, she prayed that he would curb his anger as she requested! 

she looked to skellige and was silent, weary, suddenly, before she stepped forward, anticipating his step alongside her. she need say nothing more to him; he could read her well. her own head ached terribly, now, and she swayed in place for a moment. in taking care of larkspur, she had forgotten herself, and unbeknownst to her, she was suffering the beginnings of dehydration. her mouth was dry, and she was exhausted, having hardly let herself sleep the past two days.

Skellige needn't have launched into such a fierce and long-winded soliloquy, as nearly the instant he opened his mouth, Larkspur quailed. The electric spark within her snuffed out and she dropped into a crouch at Deirdre's feet. Her ears slicked fully backward as the Leviathan put her on the rack and lashed her. Spur knew he was right, that she and her father were at fault too, and she already blamed herself. But it didn't stop her from loathing him for hurting her beloved daddy and then deceiving her so abhorrently. She couldn't help if that made her unreasonable. She loved her family to a fault.

The two women both sprang to her defense against his barbed tongue, urging Skellige to leave her alone for now. Spur's heart lodged in her throat. The witch herself obviously cared for this man and even the nameless guard only meant to postpone the inevitable. A breathless fear swept through the golden youth. Although she loved Deirdre no less and had spoken genuinely about joining her in Donnelaith mere moments ago, Spur knew she must get away from this place. The painful truth of the matter was that in order to rid herself of Skellige, she must also leave behind her best friend.

She was tempted to do what she did best: run away. And she would. But Larkspur, for once, managed to deny her instinct to flee. She knew now was not the right moment. Although Deirdre was moving away with the Leviathan, there was still the guard. She gave the woman a quick glance, then backed into the hollow tree and fell to the floor. She was exhausted. But she would not sleep. She would wait for the perfect moment to slip away, returning to Marauder's Keep, back into the arms of her family.

idk if there should be another thread where he talks with dei but i thought i'd post one last time with him here - he's following her where she goes /shrug

 

It was useless to speak to the child. She would not listen to him, and he found himself enraged by this. There was no hope that words of rational explanation would aid in her hatred. He should have left her to the tossing waves and the sand. Skellige did not find himself truly regretting his decision until he watched the girl – Larkspur – shrink away from him out of fear. The dramatics made him ill, and as he loomed there, he could feel himself wanting to turn away from her and cast her aside. The water wolf could not simply ignore the blessed child, though. She had been touched and swallowed by the sacred waves, and she had been returned… it meant that he could not leave her to her own fate. He knew that he had to harden her.
 
When she shrunk from him, it seemed to rouse the other wolf into a state of speaking. The swarthy sea king listened – dumbfounded – as the flighty woman demanded that he leave the child, explaining that his presence was detrimental to her healing process. Skellige had already learned that rational words would only fall on deaf ears. Instead, he was filled with a white hot fury that burned his gut.
 
“You must ask me to – who the fuck are y-” he spat, but his words were interrupted.
 
“Enough.”
 
The silver-striped Cairn drew his gaze toward Deirdre with a wild snapping of his neck. For a moment, he imagined it would be against him, but he was surprised that she had spoken down to the pretentious stranger. Skellige listened as she continued to talk, and found his fur pricking with frustration. The pale girl spoke as though he were basic – as if he could not comprehend the meaning of what the healers did. Her words painted him as a child, or an obedient slave, who only acted when acted upon. The leviathan could feel a sting in his pride, but he held his tongue and narrowed his brows tightly on his forehead. He was a guest in their forest, and if he were to act with hostility toward the unknown female who had the audacity to tell him to leave, the wolves of Donnelaith would no longer keep his coalition.
 
When the Mayfair had finished speaking, he huffed through widened nostrils at the other healer and curled his leathery lip over disgusting fangs. Without addressing the unknown wolf, he stepped away from the pup and toward Deirdre. The pale woman swayed where she stood and he watched her with a calculating expression on his shadowy face. Something was wrong.

last post for me!

Whatever desire to play an active role in this encounter was silenced by Deirdre's quelling words and the sharp blade of Skellige's. Her tail drooped, her ears pressed back. Deirdre's reprimand had done more than Skellige's foul language and his anger, for Deirdre's esteem meant far more to her. Skellige seemed, to Starbuck, an entirely unreasonable man. He said he wished for Larkspur's wellbeing, but his actions indicated the opposite.

Despite his petty little gestures, Starbuck was glad to see him go. He and Deirdre clearly had some rapport, some understanding that led him to follow her, and Starbuck watched them leave with clear relief. Starbuck missed the signs of encroaching illness in Deirdre and merely settled where she had before, not far from the enterance to the hollow tree.