Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ahab already had a long life, full of sagas and anecdotes, from the most mundane to near-miracles, but never had she seen such things, nor had she even heard of it.

It was the beginning of August, and even though they were in Edinburgh, the temperatures should have been at least livable. But no. It seemed like the Devil himself had taken control of the weather and was attempting to send as many people as possible into Hell. It had been snowing since 12:01AM, and the snow had piled over so much that even the horses were having trouble advancing, which did not help Starbuck’s nerves, nor Hagar’s. They had decided to pull the weakened woman on a makeshift sled through the iced streets, Starbuck endlessly rambling about how it will be fine, they would find a doctor whose door could still be opened despite the ice covering everything, Hagar would give birth to a beautiful child, and they could all help her take care of her baby. Ahab remained silent, keeping her thoughts to herself and pulling the sled with a strength that belies her elderly appearance, her grey gaze observing the crystallization covering the entire city, making birds rain among the flakes. The people reminded her of a gift her father had given her long ago, back to a near-forgotten time when she had nothing for herself and her father still tried to direct her to a path more suited for a young lady: a small mechanical dancer, a figure remaining frozen in time eternally, for she never played with it, not even once. Like she did to this unmoving dancer, on this cursed day Ahab walked past these frozen people, ignoring the anguished gaze of the man behind her.

“Eh… That li’l one sure chose his time to get out, huh?” Starbuck tried to crack up a smile, but it came out as an awkward grimace. Still, it was enough to make Hagar let out a chuckle, before she groaned of pain, probably due to another cramp. Ahab could still imagine Starbuck, or at least the young man he used to be back then, raising his face to her. “Captain…”

“I know. We just have to keep going for a bit longer.”

And so they walked. Ahab wondered if, like the people who had tried their luck walking outside and like the few salmons which, their instincts probably messed up by this accursed weather, had swam all the way up to the freezing water of Leith, some even hopping out of the water only to be frozen mid-air, forming small arches with the now crystallized drops of water that they had pulled along, the horses, cab and the driver had also been covered in this pale embrace and kept still like her little ballerina was. Another bird sure was, mid-flight, and Ahab had to duck to avoid receiving it in the face, but a gasp behind her reminded her that there was someone there, too. Fortunately, the frozen block smashed itself in little pieces on the ice of the waters they were walking on, and not on the woman they had been pulling along.

Ignoring Starbuck’s gaze on her back, Ahab kept on walking for a bit longer until they reach a small, narrow staircase leading back up to the land. Starbuck took Hagar on his back without complaining even once, despite the tears of the woman falling in hailstones on his neck. These little white pearls looked like mint candy. Ahab climbed first, carrying the sled, and Starbuck followed. He seemed ready to put Hagar back on the sled, but Ahab stopped him with a gesture, and walked up to the house in front of them, kicking the thin coat that had started to form on the door until it shattered, and then opening the door for her sailors to hurry in.

In there, a world of warmth and noises was invaded by the whalers, Ahab closing the door and growing rapidly annoyed at the mix of “cuckoo!”s and wheezing noises of the makeshift alarm system. She had always known Finlay to be a bit of a madman, but his idiocies can be frankly annoying. A dog would be a better guard than this pile of scrap. Still, as long as he could somehow save this situation, Ahab was ready to forgive him for making her have to walk up to this abomination and deactivate it.

“Who the fu- Oh, it’s you.”

The old man’s voice made the sailors turn to him, but Ahab knew it was not time to exchange news around drinks. Not right then, at least.

“Evening, Fin’. I need you to take care of…” She gestured towards Hagar, who was doing her best to handle the pain of labor. “... this, for me.”

“Are you fuckin’”

“Remember Agnes? You owe me, Finlay.”

The man had glared at Ahab, and would have probably chased her out of his workshop, if it hadn’t been for Hagar letting out a scream of pain at a particularly strong cramp. Having pity for the future mother, he sighed and gestured for Starbuck to follow him, which he did without question. Figuring that she should probably accompany her sailors, Ahab followed as well, her gaze focused on the back of the man in a wheelchair made by himself, noting how he had barely changed, only having lost a bit more hair during all these years.

Entering a larger room after the long, narrow corridor he made them go through, Finlay pushed away everything he had on a table, making even his most important projects fall on the floor as he ordered for Hagar to be laid on the table. He then chased both Ahab and Starbuck out before locking himself with Hagar.

“... Is he… reliable?” Starbuck asked, his gaze going from his captain and the door behind which his crewmate was giving birth.

“He has always been able to fix any people that came or were brought to him, and never one to ask questions or pose conditions. If one can help in this situation, it’s him.” Ahab answered, observing the intricate insides of an unfinished bird-shaped clock that had been thrown all the way into the corridor.

The next few hours passed rather slowly for the two sailors, Starbuck constantly pacing around in this long corridor, asking Ahab every two minutes if she was certain of herself, and the other minutes he weren’t bothering his captain, he was trying to bother her old friend instead, listening to the movements behind the door or trying to look through the keyhole, while Ahab was slowly starting to feel trapped beneath the fake eyes of the countless mechanical figures piled in the corridor and making it narrow in the first place. Even the bird she had picked up earlier had ended up being thrown into one of these piles of trash. Until, finally, Finlay opened his door, leading to Starbuck almost hurrying in, if it wasn’t for the grumpy old man blocking the door and looking right at Ahab.

“Come in.” He grunted, and when Starbuck tried to come in instead, he glared at him. “Not you.”

Leaving her sailor behind, Ahab walked in to see Hagar laying on the table, unmoving, and a small pack of old fabrics and cloth next to her. After a beat, the pack moved a bit, and a small hiccup, followed by crying came out of it. Curious about the little being that killed - albeit inadvertently - her sailor, Ahab walked forward while Finlay was closing the door and rummaging through his belongings.

It was a little bit of nothing, a small infant, its eyes still blue, its skin still red as it gulped its first lungfuls of air. The air seemed a bit brighter, a bit warmer around it, and the few bright locks of hair on top of its head seemed like a candle’s tiny flame, but most notable were the gears in its head, sticking out a bit from the right side of its head. Turning her head towards the old man who was drinking a glass of scotch, Ahab narrowed her eyes.

“Finlay?”

“Look, I can explain-”

“I do not care about your experimentations on people, but I do hope you’ve got a good enough explanation for… whatever this is.” She said as she gestured towards the baby.

“... It’s just how her mind is, now. She was made like this and that’s all there is to it.” Finlay bit out after a pause. He came closer, extending one of his pale hands with long fingers that made them look like a skeleton’s, or spiders, to gently hold the little thing’s hand. Seemingly unafraid, it held onto one of his fingers, its brightness seeming to give the pale old man a new spark of life. “... You really need to stop showing up at me door like that with desperate cases and dump ’em on me, Ahab. I can’t do this anymore.” His hands were trembling, and his glassy gaze was focused on the small thing and its mother. Another few seconds of silence passed before he could muster the strength to ask in a strangled whisper: “... What d’you intend to do with her, Ahab? Don’t act like ye’re a mighty saint, we both know tha-”

Whatever the old man wanted to say was cut short by the door slamming open. Starbuck, unable to wait for much longer, looked at the scene in the room, his eyes, too, fixated on the mother and her child. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then closed it again, before he managed to take a few steps forward. Ahab stepped back when he finally reached the small thing, and froze when he saw her. Still, he took it in his arms as if it was the most fragile and precious thing in the world, despite how awkward he seemed, holding a whole-ass infant in these arms built for harpooning. He remained wordless for a few seconds, trying to compose himself, before glancing with sadness at the mother, and finally looking down at the old man serving himself another glass.

“... Did she… give him a name…?”

“...” Finlay drank his new glass empty, before mumbling above his shoulder: “She asked for her to be called Ishmael.”

Starbuck let out a small noise that sounded like a strangled sob, his eyes wet as he looked back down at the bit of nothing that fell asleep in his arms. Ah, right, Ishmael was a name he had suggested when Hagar was struggling to find any suitable.

Finlay then pulled Ahab aside, and the captain wondered if he would kick them out of his workshop, now that the job was done, but he surprised her.

“I’m gonna have to work on somethin’ for the kid to be able to focus more easily. You’ll, uh, stay around, right?”

Looking above her shoulder, Ahab watched Starbuck close Hagar’s eyes with one hand as he held the little pack of fabrics against his chest with the other.

“... Yes, we’ll have to stay near the land for a while. Unless you plan on k- babysitting her, Fin?”

“I’m too old for that…” He sighed and shook his head, before looking up at the woman. “Keep in mind that she is… different from the others. She should not have to fiddle with her gears for it to function, but be careful about hits on this side of the head, or bright lights or loud noises.”

“I’m even older than you, Fin, by your own logic, I shouldn’t have to take care of it.”

“Then act your age and retire.”

Ahab exhaled a small laugh, before turning to Starbuck, whom she knew was listening.

“We will have to warn the others of a new passenger and…” She glanced at Hagar. “... the loss of another one. This would complicate things a lot, i- she is not ready to cross the Atlantic right now.”

“We can take care of her, Captain. We just have to organize well enough, you would barely notice, I swear.”

“... If you do manage to organize yourselves, I do not mind. However, this would mean that we’d have to stay near the coasts of the U.K. for a long while. You do seem prepared for it, but would the others be?”

Starbuck seemed to deflate at this question, and he looked at the small child, as if it had the answers to his doubts. Remaining calm, Ahab turned to Finlay, not mentioning the concern she was seeing in his eyes.

“I suppose you wouldn’t kick out a newborn in this weather, would you?”

Outside, the snow had ceased, and the sun was back right on time to set, casting the melting world in a warm orange glow, making every lighter shade of color match the newborn’s hair.

Chapter Text

At first, it felt weird for her to stay in one place for so long. It has not happened since… since that bastard took away her leg, back when her hair was not yet this pale. She had thought they could at least catch the period between June and September, during which blue whales would swim in Scottish waters, but she quickly realized that, even when remaining docked, having a baby on board was not good for her heard, especially when said baby had started to crawl, walk, and - albeit clumsily - run a bit too soon for Ahab’s taste. Something else she had realized was that none of these sailors were able to take care of a child properly, and it’s not like her help did much at the beginning.

Thus starting to plan out a really long stay in Edinburgh, Ahab had allowed her crew - well, the ones who remained - to find new jobs in the meantime, as long as they were still at her beck and call if the occasion to go back to hunting were to come. Ahab herself didn’t look for a job; having been used to being her own boss for too long, she doubted she could suffer having someone ordering her around again. Instead, she would fish for her own food, getting some vegetables her crew would share from their own meal they’d boy with their hard-earned money - naturally, they are her crew after all - or, if a bad day were to happen, she would use the money she had left from selling the oil of their last hunt. Thanks to Finlay, and a few fellow fishermen she had met at the pub, she had gotten to know the best fishing spots around depending on the season, so the amount of money didn’t go too low for a while. But in the end, since she was usually the one with the most free time, except for Sundays and holidays, this meant she was usually the one with the child.

Surprisingly, Ishmael was quiet, for a time at least. Well, as quiet as an infant could be: she would cry when she was hungry or tired or needed something in particular, but aside from these instances, she would only produce small chirps occasionally. Even her hair, at first Ahab was concerned she was a living fire-hazard, a disaster waiting to happen, but - thanks to Starbuck being fond of her to the point of getting a bit dumb at times - they quickly discovered that instead of actual fire, the short strands felt more like liquid warmth, like a lukewarm stream of water one would plunge their hand into. AHab mostly had to leave her in a room that everyone in the crew, even Stubb, had verified was safe and secured - it was almost padded with how many blankets they had put on the floor and the bottom of the walls and, remembering Finlay’s advice, Starbuck had even put a small curtain on the circular window on the door - and to come calm her down when she was crying, usually managing to tell what was wrong by looking at the time it was and, after maybe a bit too long of an adaptation time, she had started to anticipate those cries and to prepare for them in advance. With their money, the crew would also buy the kid some toys - sadly none from Finlay, for some reason they seemed to freak her out - to keep her busy during the day, so she would hardly miss anything.

It was Ahab who was starting to get bored after long months spent ashore, in fact. She was a woman of action, and though she could certainly do a repetitive task for days, this time she didn’t even have a clear picture of how long she would be doing this. How long does it take for one child to be robust enough to make the whole voyage back to America? 10 years? Certainly not, she knows it now. 15? In any case, Ahab could feel her sanity erode at the prospect. She would not last this entire time without at least something to keep her interest in Edinburgh. At the beginning, she had tried finding other drinking companions, quite like Finlay used to be, but after repeated complaints from her crew, she had to let go of the bottle at least a bit and, when she was starting to despair, she found something that made this whole city much more interesting.

Josephine is simultaneously one of the proudest people and the most loyal person Ahab has ever met. She would not hesitate to snap back when someone so much as questioned her decisions, yet never hesitates before bowing low in front of Mrs. Earnshaw or bending over backwards for the family she serves. She would attempt to remain distant at first, if only for the sake of her employers’ reputation, but could hardly refrain herself from engaging if Ahab so much as lightly teased her, which the captain will probably never cease to find adorable. Ahab had met her almost by incident, going to the apothecary for something against hangovers, while Josephine was there to get a rather big amount of medicine for her fellow Butlers of the Earnshaws’ estate - a rather impressive mansion sitting atop a windy hill in the city’s outskirts - where an epidemic had broken out.

As she arrived in front of the shop, she noticed a bit of agitation in a narrow alleyway right next to the building and, out of curiosity, walked to the entrance of the alley to take a look. She was not expecting anything more interesting than a skirmish between brats or a fight between drunkards, but to her surprise, it was three brats not much older than 20, surrounding a woman. She was barely shorter than Ahab, with long greying black hair and dark red eyes focused on a pocket watch she then tucked back into the inner pocket of her brown suit. With visible annoyance, she took off her white gloves to shove them into her pocket.

“My apologies, but I cannot grant ye a lo’ o’ time.” She announced calmly, straightening the monocle sitting on her right eye and glaring at the boys who had probably recognized her uniform as one of the Butlers’ from that rich mansion yet had not heard enough about the Butlers to know not to pick up a fight.

Needless to say, in a few seconds it was nearly over, one of them had his nose broken and fell on his ass, the second had been slammed into the brick wall with enough force to leave a bleeding wound on his forehead, and the third one ended up freezing in fear when his eye had nearly been stabbed by sharp cutlery. They quickly understood their lesson and did not try to stop Josephine from walking out into the larger street, as she was using a handkerchief to wipe the boy’s blood from her hand, keeping herself as put together as she was when she had been stopped. Ahab took a step to the side to let her walk past her, their gaze crossing for an instant before Josephine put her gloves back on and pushed the door of the apothecary’s shop open.

Ahab must admit: she has a type. And the more she would meet her after her never-ending shifts, making her way up to the mansion just to see her, walking together under the night sky, even going together out for breakfast or a coffee when the Earnshaws insisted for Josephine to start her days a bit later than usual so she could see Ahab, the more Ahab craved to see the passion in Josephine’s eyes burn for her. And when she finally did, during a quiet night aboard the Pequod, among the warm blankets of Ahab’s bed, she knew she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

Due to Josephine working all day long, the two lovers would see each other almost exclusively at night, and as a result Ahab’s sleep schedule had nearly been reversed and she would get her energy from small, light naps while fishing, or with Ishmael in the kid’s hammock - which was low enough to ensure that if the child would get too feisty, the fall onto the covered floor would not be much - and she still wonders how Josephine managed to carry on her duties perfectly during the day, after almost an entire night spent with Ahab and then still demand her presence next night. Of course, Ahab could hardly deny her anything, so they would see each other next night nonetheless.

This continued between them for months, with several dates a week, most of them ending in Ahab’s room - Josephine, living in a part of her employers’ manor reserved for the servants, did not quite dare to let more rumors about her and Ahab spread. It was during such an occasion that Josephine met Ishmael.

“...”

“... Whatever you’re thinking, know that I understand.” Ahab tried to reassure Josephine, putting a hand on her shoulder, though, given how Ishmael was wriggling in her embrace, she had to let go quickly so she could put the kid down before she’d fall. “Alright, alright, li’l kitten, just wait a sec here…” She sighed as she put the toddler down, only for her to quickly crawl back to the comfort of her hammock, from which she observed Josephine with her wide hazel eyes. Ahab straightened up to glance at her partner, a bit concerned as she saw her pinch the bridge of her nose.

“... Sorry, I know ye said she was different but… Is her hair on fu- fire?”

“Yeah, I told you she was very different. Her hair is the fire.” Ahab grimaced slightly, suddenly nervous of what Josephine would think of her child. After all, though Josephine did admit she had a baby of her own, she had also said the boy was normal, everything Ishmael isn’t.

“... And those are cogs in her head.”

“Yes.”

“How is she even alive?”

“I don’t know. You should ask Finlay about this if you wanna know the details, but I never managed to pay attention to his technical ramblings for more than 15 minutes.” Ahab remained silent for a moment, but then shook her head. Suspecting Finlay would not lead to anything substantial anyway: Ishmael was born like this and that was that. Taking a step towards Josephine, Ahab hesitated for a second before asking: “Do you, uhm, wanna hold her?”

“Hold her?” Josephine asked, turning her head to the captain with a surprised look.

“Uh, that’s what people do with babies, right?”

It must have been funny, or maybe Ahab’s expression or tone was amusing, because Josephine burst out laughing for a moment, only calming down after long seconds.

“S-sorry…” She managed to mumble out as she noticed the look of confusion on both Ahab and Ishmael’s faces, hiding her smirk with her hand, even though her shoulders were still visibly shaking. “Yea, it’s what people usually do with babies, but she’s a whole toddler now, and given how she just tried to escape yer arms I don’t think she’d be happy if I were to hold her.”

Ahab hesitated, unsure of what it meant, but Josephine walked closer to Ishmael’s hammock and sat down next to her, smiling at the little girl who had not looked away from her, so the captain followed.

“You think she’d get along well with Heathcliff?” Ahab asked, looking at her daughter sitting in a strangely peaceful silence.

“‘M not so sure ‘bout that.” Josephine shook her head. “Heathcliff’s a loud one, and energetic at that, whereas this cutie’s calmer than any baby I’ve ever- OUCH!!” The Butler immediately put a hand on her roots to prevent the toddler from pulling on her scalp any longer, giving Ishmael an outraged glare which remained completely ignored as the fistful of dark locks she was holding seemed to have more importance for the little girl.

“You… You alright?” Ahab managed to ask without laughing too hard as she tried to gently pry Ishmael’s hand away from Josephine’s hair.

“Urgh, scratch what I said, that li’l brute would get along with Heathcliff wonderfully.” Josephine grunted a bit, and Ahab was a bit worried she’d be mad at her daughter, but the Butler tried to help her gently disentangle Ishmael’s hand from her hair.

The toddler started hiccuping in frustration at that point, tears welling in her eyes as they had finally managed to separate her from Josephine’s hair. With a small sigh, Ahab scooped her up and held her close. It took a bit of time for Ishmael to calm down, but in the end she had found that Ahab’s hair was about as interesting as Josephine’s.

“Ye’re holding her like a cat.” Josephine had joked with amusement, still massaging the pain out of her own scalp lightly.

“I-is that bad?”

“Eh, she seems to like it.”

After this rather special introduction, when Josephine and Ahab happened to walk on the Pequod before Ishmael was asleep, the Butler would come to see her, oftentimes grumbling about the late hour and how the toddler was still wide awake.

“That can’t be a healthy time to be awake for a kid…”

“We tried.” Stubb grunted back, only to lower his head when his captain glared at him.

“She’s… rather difficult to put to bed.” Starbuck insisted, though his tone was more polite than Stubb’s as he struggled to keep Ishmael in his arms. “I tried to read her something or bore her but nothing…”

Josephine glanced at the notebook Ahab was holding in her hands: a written recollection of her travels, hunts and catches throughout the year. Given the number of the notebook, it dated back to two decades ago at least.

“... Are ye sure that’s a good reading for a kid?”

“Oh, I don’t read all the swear words out loud.” Starbuck answered quickly, before considering that it might not have been the smartest thing to say, given how Ahab hid her blushing face behind the notebook to avoid Josephine’s amused glance. “I-I’m just trying to read something encyclopedic to bore her to sleep.”

“Well that doesn’t work, so I suppose it’s time for ye to invest in toddlers’ books. I can lend ye some o’ Heathcliff’s if ye want.”

“Are you sure?” Ahab inquired, trying to act as if Starbuck hadn’t embarrassed her, as the man was trying to wrestle with Ishmael to prevent her from jumping down from his shoulder.

“Yea, books ain’t the cheapest after all.”

“Well, at least that prevents us from having to learn local legends to entertain her.” Stubb grumbled a bit, seeming somewhat relieved about it, before glancing at the struggling Starbuck and sighing with annoyance. “Put her down. She wanna be on the floor, can’t you see?”

“I’ve noticed that, thank you.” Starbuck sighed back and, after a bit more struggles, managed to put Ishmael down on the floor of the deck.

“... As for local legends, I doubt it’d be a good idea to tell them to such young kids. I don’t tell ‘em to Heathcliff, even.” Josephine said calmly as she looked at Ishmael stumbling around.

“What, the stories about knights and the Round Table?” Ahab asked with a frown. Arthurian legends were the first thing that came to mind when she thought about Great Britain’s folklore, so she was a bit surprised to hear this opinion from Josephine.

“... Ah, no, I meant the legends about faes abducting children.”

“Oh, yeah, it makes more sense now. I suppose my notebooks were a really bad idea, too.”

“What makes ye say that?” Josephine asked, leaning in to take a better look at the notebook in Ahab’s hands. The captain hesitated a bit but then gave her the notebook for her to skim through it. “... The doodles are… interesting.”

“Yeah, even less appropriate than local legends I guess. I mean, it is a guide on how to kill, even if it’s about these fucking bast-”

“The kid! The kid!! THE KID!!!”

Stubb’s alert cry had stopped Ahab and Josephine in the middle of their conversation as they turned to see Starbuck quickly snatching up Ishmael, who had taken advantage of the lack of focus on her to chase her freedom towards the edge of the ship and could have possibly drowned doing so. She looked at the horrified adults with wide, innocent eyes as if she hadn’t just nearly caused all of them a heart attack.

“That little…” Ahab gritted her teeth around her pipe, trying to calm her racing heart down.

“... How about we just put her to bed, it’s past 23 o’clock.” Josephine proposed, putting a supportive hand on Ahab’s shoulder.

“But won’t she end up crying after a while?” Starbuck asked with concern as he carried Ishmael back toward her room, until Josephine sighed and followed him.

“Let me deal with it, then.” She mumbled as she walked into the cabin, followed by Ahab as well, while Stubb observed them from the outside. “I’ll show you how to do it and then hopefully you can teach your men how to.”

Starbuck hesitated for a moment, but then decided to put Ishmael down into her hammock and leave the women to have a more private time, waving goodbye to the kid who stared at him and waved back after the door was shut.

“So…” Ahab started, looking at Josephine coming to sit down on the blankets next to Ishmael’s hammock. “How is this whole… ‘bedtime’ thing supposed to work?”

“Well, first ye gotta read her a story, and - no, I will not read yer insanity.” Josephine precised with an amused giggle, tossing the notebook back at Ahab who managed to catch it. “There’s a story Heathcliff always wants me to read him, so I ended up memorizing it. And then we leave her.”

“Wh- but then won’t she start crying? That’s what toddlers her age do, right?” Ahab echoed Starbuck’s earlier concern, walking closer to Josephine and wondering whether she was being serious or not.

“Yea, but ye gotta let ‘em cry. Otherwise they’d grow too dependent on yer presence to fall asleep.”

“... Alright…” Ahab carefully sat down, looking and listening to the younger woman.

Her story was about a bear ruling over a kingdom of animals and being just and generous towards his people, and then everything jumbled up and next thing she knew, Ahab opened her eyes to the ceiling of Ishmael’s room, where Starbuck clumsily painted ugly stars, feeling the familiar weight of Josephine by her side, while Ishmael had exposed the entirety of her favorite toys, mostly little animals carved out of wood, on top of Ahab’s torso and was staring at her, waiting for a reaction or a praise at her little collection.

“Mmm… Think we fuckin’ fell asleep…” The captain grunted lightly to herself as she raised a hand to gently ruffle Ishmael’s short hair.

“Yea no shit…” Josephine grumbled at her side, blinking her eyes open to stare at the display of wooden animals sitting on Ahab’s torso.

Thus, from that day on, Ahab knew how to put her daughter to bed, and taught it to the other members of her crew. They had borrowed some of Heathcliff’s books, but the most of the stories Ishmael listened to came from the library, though there were sometimes small mistakes - apparently, much to John’s embarrassment, The Red and The Black was not a good idea, as the purpose was to entertain Ishmael, not bore her. Surprisingly, Ishmael did not cry once she was left alone, so much so that the sailors had started wondering whether this whole routine was truly necessary, until it was Starbuck’s second turn to tell the story. She had grabbed onto his sleeve and would not let go, no matter how much he tried to wriggle out of her grip. In the end, he had started waiting until she’d fallen asleep before leaving, even falling asleep with her occasionally, to the point where Ahab had to insist on what Josephine had said, and even then, he had only stopped once his captain had threatened to punish his insubordination.

Meanwhile, since Ahab rarely ever went to Wuthering Heights to spend the night, and even when she came it was at a rather late time, she met Heathcliff a few whole months after Josephine had met Ishmael.

Standing in his room a bit awkwardly, Ahab looked at Josephine with uncertainty. She was the one who asked if she could meet with Heathcliff properly, but she had not expected it to happen the very morning following her demand. The kid had night terrors, regularly waking up between 2am and 7am, just like this night. Josephine was gently rocking him into calming his cries, humming a soft, repetitive tune. Ahab felt a bit uneasy, as if the simple, tender scene of a mother and her child was not to be gazed upon by a ship captain whose sole purpose in life was to kill, but Josephine let her stay, not even mentioning the long, silent and wide-eyed stare her son was giving to this stranger as he sucked his thumb.

“What time is it?” Josephine asked, startling Ahab back to reality.

“Oh, uh…” She glanced at the clock on the wall behind the mother. “5:57am.”

“Alright, then he won’t get back to bed. We’d better just go eat breakfast.” The younger woman got up with a soft grunt.

“This early?” Ahab questioned. She had nothing against getting up early, but was surprised that it was acceptable for such a young child - he is barely a month older than Ishmael, who at the time was still not in age to talk.

“Yes. He has always been an early riser.” Josephine said, putting him down on the floor, much to his despair.

“... Ma…” He squeaked, his little reddened face scrunching up as tears welled in his eyes.

“Shhh, don’t worry, sweetie…” Josephine cooed softly, holding out her hand for Heathcliff to hold onto, the little boy nuzzling against the back of her hand.

“He can talk already?” Ahab asked, surprised, as she stepped aside to let Josephine and Heathcliff walk past her.

“Yes, but he rarely does it in front of other people. Today’s yer lucky day, I guess. Isn’t it the same for Ishmael?”

“No.” The captain started to follow Josephine, a small pout on her face. She should have borrowed these books on toddler education that had caught her eye at the library. “She’s not mute, she cries sometimes…”

“... Maybe it’s because she’s so… different.”

“Maybe…” Ahab looked down, staring at Heathcliff who kept looking behind him to stare at the captain. “... You’re gonna fall if you keep on walking without looking where you go.”

They walked downstairs to a kitchen and dining room reserved for the Butlers - much less luxurious than the separated kitchen and dining room for the Earnshaws and their guests - where Josephine would let go of Heathcliff to prepare the breakfast. The boy climbed on a chair, sitting down on it for a moment before hesitating a bit and, seeing Ahab help his mother put the breakfast on the table, got up to help.

“Huh, at least he’s polite.” The captain mumbled as she looked at him carrying the bread to the table.

The breakfast was quiet: due to the early hour, the sun had not risen yet, and most of the other Butlers were yet to wake up. It was peaceful until Heathcliff, probably estimating he had had enough breakfast, jumped down his chair to run off to the door, reaching his small hand out to try to grasp it for a moment before turning to his mother, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Wait for two minutes, Heathcliff, Ma hasn’t finished her coffee yet.” Josephine said with a small sigh, but it didn’t stop the boy who tried to open the door once again, only to be called out. “Heathcliff, I told ye time and time again to not go into the manor on yer own.” The boy looked at his mother again, his expression innocent as an angel.

“Heh, I get what you meant when you said he and Ishmael would get along well.” Ahab laughed, thinking back on how Ishmael, too, could be quite stubborn.

Ahab rarely ever saw Heathcliff for a few other months after this, due to Josephine being the one to come on the Pequod, more often than not. Until, after a time, the Earnshaws had concluded that a relationship was sustainable without Josephine’s performance as a Butler being too impacted, and had given their blessing for Ahab to come see her partner whenever she wanted.

“Feel free to come over whenever, Miss Ahab, you will be welcomed and considered as a guest.” Mrs. Earnshaw had said with a polite smile, Mr. Earnshaw nodding next to her.

Thus, the captain ended up starting to spend more time at Wuthering Heights, yet always coming back to the Pequod during the day, until, progressively, the idea of Ahab permanently living with Josephine came on the table.

“But will it be fine for Ishmael?” Ahab asked, having somewhat resigned to her role of looking out for the toddler. “They agreed for me to stay, but they don’t know about her, do they?”

“I doubt they’d refuse.” Josephine answered, trying to think about what Ishmael would need if she were to come live in the manor. “It’s not like they’re bothered by children: Heathcliff’s already watched over by Nelly - remember that kid I told ye was a newbie? - and nothing bad has ever happened.”

Ahab had hesitated, to be honest. While the prospect of finally moving together with Josephine was enticing, it came with all the little problems following Ishmael. Would she feel good when away from the Pequod? Wouldn’t she miss the sailors? What about the habits she took and routines she lived with? Still, she let the Butler convince her to give it a try.

Even before Ahab and Josephine had expressed the idea of starting to live together, the idea of letting Ishmael and Heathcliff meet each other was present. It was a bit of a hassle, as Ishmael hated walking on land, back then. Used to live on a ship, the regular ground was too flat, unmoving and stable for her, she’d stumble around rather than walk, and fell so often that Ahab had to plan on having a stock of disinfectant and bandaid whenever she wanted to make Ishmael take a walk. But on the other hand, Josephine was adamant on not letting Heathcliff lose on the ship, for his own safety.

Thus, after a bit of trouble, they had managed to organize a meeting in a park spreading along the Water of Leith, a patch of greenery among the grey that Ishmael seemed to like. Despite how Ahab had insisted to Ishmael that she would be meeting with a boy her age, the kid had stubbornly clung to her wooden animals until the captain had to relent and let her bring a few.

“... Yes, I know, I calculated poorly…” Ahab mumbled as she was stuck under Josephine’s amused gaze.

However, much to Ahab’s surprise, while it had begun with each kind playing on their own - Ishmael with her little figurines and Heathcliff, after having tried and failed to get Ishmael’s attention, running around the park - Heathcliff eventually came back to Ishmael - now with brand new mud stains - and started to play with her figurines a bit. At first, Ahab was a bit worried about the reaction Ishmael would have, fearing she might be a bit too protective of her favorite toys, but, though her hair flared up a bit at first, it quickly went back to normal when Heathcliff started playing with her, the little animals becoming their common ground to tell a story that stretched way over 2 hours and ended with the little hare being put to bed… or receiving a glorious funeral, neither Ahab nor Josephine could tell due to the silent storytelling.

But, when it came to actually moving in with Josephine, things got more… complicated. Ishmael, with her usual clumsiness, was difficult to deal with, especially since, during this period, she kept going from formidable tantrums to long periods of prolonged silence. Josephine had explained that, though it would be normal for children to be a bit… disturbed by sudden changes, Ishmael took a lot of time to adapt. The only respite she would get would be from Heathcliff trying to play with her, using the same little wooden animals she loved so much, and yet, sometimes during her temper tantrums, she would respond badly to this as well, fiercely protecting her beloved toys, her hair flaring up as she would hiss at Heathcliff for daring to touch the animals without her permission. She had even physically pushed him away once, which made him cry. And, unlike what she had thought at first, Ahab was almost alone to deal with this: Josephine was at work, and this Nelly girl - a young teenager that had been hired by the Earnshaws as a Butler-in-training not so long ago - was mostly focused on her training.

It took long months for Ishmael to get used to this new life. She would still stumble around, regularly trip, and refuse to sleep in something that cannot rock, having been found more often than not in the rocking chair Ahab would sit in to tell the two kids stories - in the end, they had brought her the hammock from the Pequod, much to her joy. Finally, she had somewhat gotten used to Josephine, Heathcliff, and their new life on land, letting her brother play with her again and starting to engage with this new environment more, instead of staying by herself, secluded with only her wooden animals to keep her company.

And, once everything had started settling down, much to Ahab’s relief, in the sunset-bathed streets of an Edinburgh covered in snow, a surprising scene was starting to unfold at an even more surprising occurrence, to the point of even becoming familiar to the neighborhood: two older women walking together, one a ship captain whose ship had stayed on the Scottish coast for enough time to get people talking, and the other a Butler from the Wuthering Heights manor, who had stayed sitting on a windy hill just outside of town for generations, the both of them more often than not having their kids running around them, curious about everything and trying to explore every corner of this street they knew so well, and even further. Josephine had started being tasked with running some errands, rather regularly, and was given more time than necessary to do this, a gift from Mrs. Earnshaw who had insisted for Josephine to make use of this time to have a small walk with Ahab and their children. The Butler had not dared to refuse such a gift, especially when it came from her Mistress. This got the neighbors talking. Josephine often tried to dismiss the rumors, though most of them were not so far-fetched from the truth, but Ahab always found these more amusing than annoying.

Ishmael, for her part, had grown more and more accustomed to this new life. She was still the small little girl with fiery hair burning as bright as ever and shiny little cogs she always was, refusing to sleep in a regular bed, and often shifting moods for the smallest reasons, yet Heathcliff had somehow befriended her, and managed to bring her out of her shell. They were about as energetic as each other, Heathcliff often being the one initiating a new game, while oftentimes Ishmael followed him about as quickly, even when he tried to escape Josephine’s vigilant watch, never succeeding in their quest for freedom though. Her development was not as impacted by the… unusual part of her head as Ahab had feared, except for her lack of words. Though Josephine had advised that she see a doctor, the captain had eventually decided against it: Heathcliff had only recently started mumbling a few words in front of her; she hoped Ishmael simply needed time, too.

A routine had started taking place, and Ishmael seemed to be more at ease with that, no longer needing to be pushed forward to go along with her day. If anything, she would usually be the one to pull her mothers along, after a moment. Ahab joked that due to her little cogs, she was precise as a clock when it came to her routine. Though the captain of the Pequod found set routines for a too long amount of time annoying, she had to adapt a bit, if only to avoid distressing Ishmael again. Fortunately, her routine was somewhat flexible at least, and not entirely boring, their evening walk being one of these elements that she refused to let go of for a long time.

Usually, they would accompany Josephine wherever her errands brought her (usually to pick up some medicaments at the apothecary to aid with Mrs. Earnshaw’s pregnancy, sometimes having to go buy some last-minute supply), then they would go to the harbor, Ahab wanting to at least check on her crew to make sure everything was still fine, and they would walk along the Water of Leith for a moment until they had to follow the path circling the hill before climbing it up to Wuthering Heights. Though the path was always the same, and rather long, Ishmael hardly ever complained about it, the only moment she showed distaste for the itinerary was when it always brought them in front of Finlay’s workshop. Much to Ahab’s sadness, whenever they walked past the tall, lanky house, Ishmael ran back behind her and Josephine, eyeing the building like it could suddenly get up and chase her, clinging to Ahab’s arm like she could protect her if it were to happen. Ahab was not exactly sure whether explaining to her that this is just the place she was born in would help her accept it a bit more or not - maybe it was even because she unconsciously knew of it that she dreaded this place so much. At the same time, Ahab knew she couldn’t force her to like it; she had already trapped her on a ship for far too long.

Their walk would resume as per usual after getting past Finlay’s workshop, with the kids running around and Josephine making sure they never run too far. Climbing the windy hill would usually be enough for them to calm down, their little bodies boding under the wind, Ishmael’s short hair flickering like a candlelight under someone’s blow, while Heathcliff always tried to maintain the hood of her raincoat on her head. They would arrive at the mansion around 7pm, where Josephine would go back to work. Heathcliff always tried to fight against it, coming to hug Josephine in hope that he could keep her away from this cruel work that was always taking her away from them, but Ahab always suspected that it was more for show, some kind of “see you later” that Heathcliff kept doing: Ishmael, for example, didn’t do it. Every time, Josephine would hug him back for a moment and promise him she’d be back to give them a good night kiss for him to let go and accept to follow Ahab and Ishmael into the small part of the manor reserved for the Butlers.

Ahab would manage to make up some food for the two children first, then for herself and Josephine for when she will be off work. Then, while the kids ate together, usually in a peaceful silence that at first had seemed so strange to the captain used to a loud and rowdy crew of sailors, Ahab would light up her pipe and smoke by the window. Once they were done eating, she would leave her pipe upside down in an ashtray and have the kids clean the table, before following them to the bathroom to help them get ready for bed. The two of them were not very difficult, though Heathcliff always sulked when he had to brush his teeth twice a day, asking why taking the trouble when they are not going to eat anything when they sleep. The most difficult part was usually to clean up Ishmael’s gears, having to hold down the little girl who was often trying to squirm away from the touch or hoped that a tantrum would be enough to convince her mother to keep her hands away from her, but some other evenings, she would be too tired from her day to move, even her little cogs getting slower - which Ahab found strange, as Ishmael was basically doing the same thing every day. Nevertheless, Ahab always cleaned Ishmael’s cogs, and tried to teach her how to do it herself, even though she herself never really considered that to be necessary unless the kid had gotten her gears dirty while playing around, but Josephine insisted that she had to clean them up as regularly as the rest of her body and God knows Josephine knows so much more about their kids than Ahab, especially back then.

Finally, the captain would lead the kids to their room to put them to bed. Heathcliff would usually demand for stories, more often than not about her voyages - Ahab swears that her crew had set her kids on a path by telling them about all their own voyages - and Ahab always had to negotiate the amount of anecdotes down to a reasonable amount before telling them. Heathcliff would hand to her every word, staring at her from under his covers, while Ishmael, though not caring as much as her brother, would listen while staring up at the ceiling. Once the amount of stories they had agreed on was told, Heathcliff would often try to ask for another story, though Ahab would never relent, and simply kiss them goodnight, and at that time, Josephine would usually arrive just in time to give them a goodnight kiss as well.

However, she would not always be able to arrive on time, in which case Ishmael would often start to freak out, causing Heathcliff distress as well. The first times were the easiest, not mentally - Ahab hated having to tear herself away from her crying children, even though it was what had to be done - but at least the kids were still too small to reach the door handle. When it had started to change, and Ahab had to struggle to prevent her children from chasing her down the corridor, it was getting a bit more complicated to leave them to fall asleep on their own. To the point where it was decided for the door of their room to be locked when they were sleeping. Neither Ahab nor Josephine truly felt like it was the best solution, but it was pretty much the only one they had: they had to teach their children that tantrums would lead them nowhere, and that they had to sleep on their own. Though Josephine respects and loves her Mistress, Mrs. Earnshaw, she had once confessed to Ahab that she did not want their children to grow up to be as spoiled as Hindley, the son of the Earnshaws, a boy about two years older than Heathcliff and Ishmael, and Ahab could only agree with that.

It all went somewhat smoothly, until the following Summer. As the month of May was starting to approach, Ahab was becoming more and more conscious that blue whales would be swimming tantalizingly close to the Scottish coast. This bastard would probably not be among them, but whalers have to stay active, lest they rust more than they already had. With this growing concern in mind, Ahab was unconsciously growing more distant, almost colder, even towards her own family. Josephine, obviously, had picked up on it, and had cornered Ahab one evening, to question her about what was on her mind.

“... It’s about going back to whaling, innit?” She asked after a prolonged silence, which made Ahab widen her eyes in surprise.

“How…?”

“Heh, ye may or may not have let it slip several times that blue whales usually come around here from June to September.” Josephine chuckled lightly, but then calmed down and reached out to gently squeeze Ahab’s hand, her expression a bit more serious. “Ye’re… thinking about returning there, aren’t ye?”

“... Sorry, I…” Ahab hesitated, unsure of what to even say, squeezing the Butler’s hand back. “I know I shouldn’t, but…”

“... Why shouldn’t ye? It’s yer job after all. And the fact ye somehow managed to stay on land for almost 3 years is kind of miraculous in itself, it’s normal ye’re starting to get… restless.”

“It’s just…” Ahab sighed lightly and, when Josephine hugged her, leaned into the embrace. “I’m afraid of leaving our kids alone. Since you are working already, I’m scared of what might happen to them when I… if I leave.”

“Nelly will take care of ‘em. She used to take care of Heathcliff a lot, y’know, she just stopped a bit when ye came into the picture.”

“But then what about Ishmael? Remember how complicated she was when we moved in, if she finds that all of a sudden her Mom’s gone…”

“She will have to learn, one way or another, that even her mothers cannot always be here for her, that they’re people, too.” Josephine paused for a moment, letting her arguments sink in before adding: “Plus, ye owe it to yer crew to keep being their captain and help ‘em earn money. Ye’ve barely gone out at sea in a while, I know ye miss it. Go whaling, honey.”

Ahab had hesitated again, but encouraged by her partner, she had decided to catch the next whaling season, in June, to leave and spend the next months hunting blue whales that migrate around the coast of Scotland. This way, not only she left well over a month for her crew to prepare for the voyage, but also a bit of time for Ishmael and Heathcliff to get used to the idea that she would leave for a long time.

It did not seem to register at first: after all, for both children the Pequod was like a funny cabin where lots of friends lived, never to leave the harbor, never to leave them. But, noticeably, as the date of Ahab’s first departure in a long time, the two children spent more time with her, as if at least sensing, if not understanding, that they would not see her in a long time. It was to the point of nearly getting annoying, but the captain could hardly bring herself to push her kids away when she would not get to see them for so long.

When the departure came, Ahab found herself growing even more restless than before, almost nervous, something she had never felt ever since she left America for the first time after her meeting with that bastard. Still, regardless of the sadness, worry and nervousness, 1855 was the first year she went back to whaling after her daughter’s birth, though it was only for a season and her only target were blue whales, it was a small step back towards the objective she had set for herself all those years ago.

Predictably, Ishmael lived it quite… badly. She was in a similar mood as when she and Ahab first started living at Wuthering Heights for about an entire month, before getting to the exact opposite: eerily calm. Too calm, to the point where her gears themselves turned slower than they used to. She would hardly support the light of the sun, cease nearly all communications, and need once again to be led through her day. Josephine had asked the apothecary for advice, then considered sending Ishmael to a doctor, despite her physical differences that might shock and concern the poor man, but she hardly had any free time when doctors were available, and meanwhile Nelly was trying to balance between Heathcliff, Ishmael, and Catherine, the youngest child of the Earnshaws.

Needless to say, Ahab’s return was somewhat of a relief for all. Ahab, for once, was happy to get back on land. It was maybe the first time she was, as it was the first time she had a loving family waiting for her. She had also thought she would be able to rest a bit after a rather intense whaling season, but, even though Josephine had seemed quite calm when she got back, they barely slept that night. But then, when their passion had quelled a bit, came the more serious cause for Ahab’s inability to rest after her return: her daughter.

After a lot of hesitation, and encouragement from Josephine, Ahab had taken over Nelly’s duties of taking care of Ishmael, much to the teenager’s relief - the poor girl was a wreck when Ahab came to talk to her. It was difficult: Ishmael had retreated even further back into her shell than before, and Ahab had a hard time trying to connect with her again. She had started gaining success when she had started playing with Ishmael on her own ground, just like Heathcliff had done to win his sister’s favors - she even had to ask him about the names of Ishmael’s wooden animals - but even when doing that, she would notice how quickly Ishmael would get tired after doing anything, really, even the most remotely small things, like having breakfast. Concerned, Ahab had tried asking Finlay for advice, to absolutely no avail.

“Ahab, just ‘cause I work with gears doesn’t mean I know how to raise a whole-ass child, no matter how many gears there are in there!” He had protested when Ahab tried to come to him.

“Why not?! You can at least tell me how the gears in there work, right?”

“With gears ya just gotta put oil on ‘em and they get be’er, but-” He interrupted himself to grab at her wrist as she was already turning around. “Ahab, no! Do NOT put fucking oil on yer kid’s brain!!”

So, Ahab had decided to try to let her rest. Josephine was a bit unsure about this, but she trusted the captain enough to let her deal with this. Ishmael was given another room, whose window was shielded from the harsh light of the sun by a tall tree, and whose curtains stayed constantly closed anyway. Whenever Ishmael was starting to get too tired to do anything, Ahab would initiate her bedtime routine, and let her nap no matter the hour, and let her at peace for a moment, checking on her every now and then to make sure she was fine, but not engaging too much with her even when she remained awake, in fear of exhausting her even further. The rest of the time, when she was awake and energetic enough, Ahab tried to engage with her thanks to her little wooden animals, or let her play on her own while she was in the same room. She had started carving again, going back to her crew to know if any of them had anything to carve in - she looked for whale bones in particular, but given how it had been a few months since they had come back on land, she suspected they already had carved them into whatever they wanted, made them their own trophies or sold them - and, while she did leave out most of the details, when the sailors had heard it was for Ishmael, Ahab ended up receiving much more animal figurines in various different materials, which she offered Ishmael regularly.

While this whole ordeal would spark rumors all around Wuthering Heights, most about how Ishmael must have gotten sick since she has gotten isolated from others, and a rare few about how spoiled the kid is getting with how many toys Ahab was giving her whenever she came back from the harbor. Ahab, though not one to be so easily affected by rumors, hated these almost as much as she hated whales - still less than that bastard nonetheless, this one deserves a category of his own - and had to grit her teeth whenever she heard of them to avoid risking all the things she wanted to say to end up falling in the ears of a child like Ishmael, Heathcliff, or even Nelly. Fortunately, once she had admitted this to Josephine, the Butler did everything to kill them with ruthless efficiency.

As for Heathcliff, while he was unable to see his sister as often, not only due to her isolation but also because of him being under Nelly’s care while Ahab was focusing on Ishmael, remained the same as he usually was, now playing a bit more with Catherine, since they were together more often, enjoying it quite a bit despite the two years gap in age, but still happily coming to see his sister whenever he could. Ishmael would let him in more easily than Ahab - unlike their mother he hadn’t left, after all - but still ended up pushing him away whenever she felt too exhausted to keep up with him, which Ahab then had to gently explain to the little boy as his eyes were filling with tears.

While Ahab understood Josephine’s desire to rush things for their daughter to get better faster, she did her best to remain patient and, gradually, positive results had started to show! Ishmael would have more energy, start to play for longer periods of times and need less amount of sleep. She would let Heathcliff in for longer, too, and gradually started going to other people again, and to get outside for longer periods of time, when it was not snowing - for some reason, she hated snow even more than the sun.

Things finally went back to how they were before, but a rather short amount of time before the next whaling season. This time, Ahab was more hesitant to leave, in fear of how Ishmael would react, of whether she would fall back down again, knowing of all the difficulties she had getting back up. Sure, this time they would not be stumbling around in the dark, they had solutions on how to help her if this were to happen again, but it didn’t mean that it was fine for it to happen again.

Still, Josephine was right when she had said that, no matter how much Ahab would wish to stick around her daughter, Ishmael had to eventually grow into an independent adult one day, and the earlier she would understand that her mothers may not always be at her beck and call, the better. Plus, despite becoming a mother, Ahab was still a person, too. And the captain of the Pequod had a purpose to achieve, a great evil to defeat. Though she could not bring herself to leave for too long, every harpoon in these blue bitches would somewhat quell her hatred for that pale bastard for a year longer, at least. Thus, she had decided to depart again.

Apparently, this time again, it was difficult for Ishmael. But at least, the people around her knew how to better accommodate her. Nelly, though she was visibly dreading this, had accepted to take back her role as Ishmael’s caretaker, at least for the few months during which Ahab wasn’t here. With clear instructions and advices from the captain, she had apparently managed to make it go smoother than last year, though Ishmael would start isolating herself again, sometimes even from Heathcliff, who at least had started to see the hints Ishmael gave off when she wanted to be alone. As for Catherine, it was maybe the first period of time she and Ishmael were in close contact for a moment, due to being taken care of by Nelly, and while Ahab has rarely seen them interact, everyone in the mansion seems to agree that they had gotten quite close quite fast, though, just like Heathcliff, gaining Ishmael’s favors was not enough for Catherine not to be pushed away when Ishmael had enough of her.

Gradually, Ishmael had started retreating back to her room again, and the Butlers let her, understanding now that she needed it. However, one day, about two weeks after she had reached her fifth birthday, Ishmael had left without anyone noticing her. It caused a lot of trouble at Wuthering Heights, starting when Nelly, after having left Catherine and Heathcliff in the care of another Butler, ran to Josephine, pale, breathing hard and trembling like a little hare in front of a wolf. After several tries, she had managed to explain the situation in the most concise way possible: Ishmael was not in her room, all windows of this room were closed, nobody had seen her since she went in there a few hours ago - which everyone had assumed was for a nap - and while running around the mansion, looking for Josephine, Nelly still hadn’t seen her child.

Josephine had quickly grown concerned with Nelly’s explanations and, as soon as the teenager had finished them, the mother relegated her role as the Chief Butler to Henry, a trustworthy coworker, before starting to look for her child. Due to all the fuss Nelly had caused, the story came to the Earnshaws’ ears, and they sent most of their Butlers out to help searching for the little girl. Nelly ran to the police station, a few Butlers were still searching through the mansion and its garden, while most of the remaining ones were roaming through the city, asking around and calling out for Ishmael. Josephine, for her part, had an inkling about where her daughter might have gone, and the people she interrogated on her way there only further confirmed it as she tracked her all the way down to the harbor.

Ishmael, for her part, had reached the harbor long ago. She was standing on the dock, right in front where the Pequod is usually waiting for her, always ready to welcome her whenever… except for this time. She remained unmoving, silent and staring into the moving waters, when Josephine found her.

“What in the world were ye thinking?!” Josephine had lost her cool, shaking her daughter by the shoulders. “Don’t ye ever do that again! I was really scared, y’know?! Everyone was!!”

Ishmael kept her eyes on the sea in silence, but flinched at the rather… rough handling, which prompted Josephine to let go of her. Still, knowing that the child had done something she should learn to never do again, the Butler had grabbed her by the hand and dragged her away from the harbor, back towards the windy hills.

“Ye’re going to get punished for this.” She had hissed between clenched teeth.

Ishmael was barely putting up a struggle, nor even protesting like she would have usually done. The way back and the terms of the punishments did not seem to affect her too much, at least not as much as noticing the disappearance of her first home. Josephine, feeling quite a bit bad to see her daughter in such as state that she would not find it within herself to cease scratching her arms red or chewing at her lips or the inside of her cheeks, no matter how much the Butler tried to make her stop, decided to cook a compote of strawberries for the evening, hoping that lightly modifying the evening meal would not affect Ishmael too much. After she had told everyone that she had found Ishmael back, and Mrs. Earnshaw had insisted for Josephine to take the rest of her day, she went out in the small part of the garden where the Butlers plant vegetables that are sometimes used to cook for the Earnshaws, or occasionally for the Butlers themselves, as well as some fruits that the children liked to pick up and eat themselves - though Mrs. Earnshaw had expressed a bit of concern about her little Hindy and Cathy eating these - and asked Ishmael to follow her, hoping that taking a bit of fresh air in the quiet of the garden might help her feel a bit better and help her hair cool down a bit.

While Ishmael obediently followed at first, she hardly even gave any interest to the strawberries, and walked off to sit down somewhere calmer, under a weeping willow nearby. Josephine was about to scold her and call her back, but then she noticed the little Catherine, who was allowed to play outside with Heathcliff while everyone else was looking for Ishmael, sitting next to her. Heathcliff was nearby, too, picking up a few daisies before running back to the two little girls. Catherine would observe and judge the daisies with all the seriousness of a jeweler estimating the value of a gemstone, accept them and then send Heathcliff pick up something else. Ishmael would observe them in silence, with a long face, but her gaze would not leave Catherine’s work as the smaller girl was trying to make small rings with the daisies, more interested in this than in any kind of fruit, it seemed. Josephine had decided to leave the children at peace and went back to picking up the strawberries, regularly glancing at the kids to make sure none of them had the idea to run away again, but the three of them were simply too busy by their crafting to care. Plus, where would they have run away to?

When Ahab finally came back, as she had feared, she had to redo the entire work she had done the first time to get Ishmael to leave her self-isolation. While this time Ishmael seemed less inclined to let her mother back in after she had left again, Ahab also had the support and help from Nelly, who had gotten to understand Ishmael a bit better, and Josephine of course, who this time knew what to do. As a result, she had managed to get back out of her room for Christmas… before being scared back inside by Hindley. The boy had been mocking Heathcliff until, much to everyone’s surprise, Ishmael had jumped in to defend her brother, only to get her ass beaten by the older boy, without taking into account the punishment she had to suffer for attacking Josephine’s young master.

She had dared to step out again in spring, once there was no snow anymore. She stayed with Heathcliff and Catherine the most, when she had the energy, but she was avoiding Hindley in order not to get punished again. The boy, however, had started enjoying following Heathcliff and Ishmael around to torment them, provoking them in fights they could hardly win, unless they worked together, but which would always lead them to harsh punishments, while the rich boy would only get a light scolding. While Ahab knew and understood the importance of discipline, she felt quite a bit bad whenever Ishmael would close up for the entire rest of the day, or when Heathcliff remained sobbing in silence in his room, and she did talk to Josephine about it.

“I…” Josephine hesitated, scratching her shoulder lightly until Ahab took her hand in hers, then sighed. “I get what ye mean, honey, I hate it too, but… They have to learn, don’t they?”

“Yeah… Yeah they have to…” Ahab mumbled, even though she herself was still trying to find other ways.

None of them wanted to punish their kids, but sometimes they had to. In order to help both Ishmael and Heathcliff avoid punishment, they had tried to encourage them to go outside. Josephine was still a bit worried about Ishmael leaving on her own, the memory of her flight last summer still all too fresh in her mind, but agreeing that this would be the best solution for her to avoid punishment, she let her baby go out on her own.

Predictably, Ishmael once again had some troubles adjusting to this new freedom she was given, but at least the Pequod was back for a time. Gradually, she understood that being outside also meant less contact with that little brat, and though she liked Catherine’s presence very much, apparently, she also wanted nothing to do with her prick of a brother, and thus started spending some of her idle time in Edinburgh, or flee there when she knew she’d likely get punished if her mothers were to find her.

Some days, for example, she would flee there after a fight with Hindley, and the knowledge of the fight would only reach the mothers once either Mr. or Mrs. Earnshaw - or both - came to either of them to warn them about the situation - usually, Hindley coming back with a bite, a red cheek, or even complaining that Ishmael either attacked him or hissed at him, a habit she had picked up after seeing one too many non-wooden cats - and ask for them to “deal with their daughter” and make sure this would not occur again. While Ahab always wanted to answer them that if they’d also teach their “precious little baby” to stop harassing the girl, she would not have to hiss or fight, she kept silent, knowing that it would most likely not happen either way. By the time either she or Josephine got to know what happened, however, Ishmael was usually far away, wandering in the streets of Edinburgh, more often than not on her own.

Some days, it would be close to noon, and Ahab was to wonder how she intended to eat, but once she’d go to check on her crew, she’d discover she had spent her time with them and - most of the time - eaten with them. But on some rarer occasions, it would turn out that she had not eaten with the sailors. At the time it was a mystery, but a few years later, Ahab had asked her, and the girl had confessed to her that she would steal from convenience stores.

She would hide her hair and gears under her hood the best she could, hoping that this was enough for nobody to walk up the hill and bother her Ma during work because of her, and observe the store from afar to find little spots that were out of the shopkeeper's field of view. Usually, she’d wait for the times when the shop was rather busy to slip in, slaloming between the adults’ legs to grab whatever food she could - usually bread or biscuits - and then slip out right behind an adult, trying to act as if she was a regular kid following a parent, only to run take shelter into a nearby alleyway to verify her catch. Once, she’d said to Ahab, she had even managed to grab a small bottle of alcohol. The first that was within reach, while the shopkeeper was busy making a woman pay, and then Ishmael had run away as fast as she could, without caring for discretion anymore, too proud of her success for that. She doesn’t even remember what kind of alcohol it was anymore, just that she had gotten curious about its taste, since all adults - those from the Pequod in particular - seemed to like it so much.

That day, she went to a quiet little playground nearby the school, where kids enjoyed playing around, and ate her little improvised meal - biscuits, she recalled, because the ones she had stolen that day had chocolate in it. Then, after struggling for a while, she managed to open the bottle of alcohol by directly breaking its neck. The smell alone made her physically recoil, so she hesitated to go through with actually tasting the liquid, but seeing how the older kids now had their eyes on her and that some were even gathering around her with curiosity, she felt almost like she was in front of other Hindleys, and refusing to let them mock her, she felt compelled to keep going.

Not quite wanting to cut herself on the edge of the glass and have to explain the origin of these new cuts to her Ma, Ishmael had to pour a bit of the alcohol into her palm, though it meant spilling some of the drink on the ground, in order to carefully bring it to her mouth and have a taste of that mysterious drink grown ups seem to like so much.

Turns out it’s absolutely disgusting, she had told Ahab, grimacing when she seemed to be remembering the experience, and then she proceeded to launch herself in a detailed description of how she spent the next minutes hunched over, regurgitating her meal under the laugh of the other children, some of whom quickly sympathized with her after trying the alcohol for themselves.

However, the fun pretty much stopped when an older kid grabbed the bottle to spill a generous amount on Ishmael, laughing at her startled squeak when her hair suddenly combusted and burned brightly for a few seconds. The little girl, once she had recovered and registered the aggression, grabbed the bottle back and threw it in his face, the kind of reaction Ahab had come to expect from her as responses to Hindley’s mockeries. The boy fell down, his face bloodied by the shards of glass, and panic broke among the children. The youngests, in fear, ran away, while the older ones stayed to support their friend. Ishmael had not expanded too long on what had happened next, and given the bruises she came back with, the captain assumed she got beaten up and then left alone by the other children after they got bored of her.

Alone again, Ishmael “stayed around” for a moment - probably meaning she stayed on the ground a bit longer, feeling too weak to get up right after being beaten up - before leaving the playground. The taste of alcohol, vomit - and probably blood too - was about as annoying as the new emptiness in her stomach, so she decided to walk towards the church. There, she snuck in and somehow managed to avoid the people of faith until she bumped into another kid, slightly older than her, who had the same idea as her. When she told the story to Ahab, she had the benefit of insight, and knew that this was Matthew, a kid rather known among the children often hanging out in the streets of Edinburgh. But back then, he was just another older boy that Ishmael proceeded to follow into the church while he was trying to shoo her away to absolutely no avail. In the end, the both of them were staring at the door to the room where they keep the sacramental bread. It was not locked, but it was out in the open, and the other child did not quite dare to try his luck in fear of getting caught so close to his goal. Ishmael’s stomach was growling and she knew that, eventually, they would have to get out of their hideout one day or another, whether to go to the door or because they’d be caught, so she cautiously walked to the wooden door and gave it a light push until she heard a little creak and immediately retreated back to the hideout. The two children held their breath in silence, waiting for one minute… two minutes…

The older child managed to find enough courage to get out of the hideout, gesturing at Ishmael to stay hidden when she stepped out of the shadows of the high stone walls to follow him. Naively, Ishmael obeyed and watched the boy push the door open wider and disappear into the room, returning his arms full of bread for the both of them, fortunately. Once their food was secured, the two of them stuffed their pockets full of the bread and sneaked out, sticking together under they got past the wall, the older kid even giving Ishmael a boost to help her climb up the wall and helping her jump down on the other side afterwards. Then, they counted the little pieces of bread they had managed to steal and divided it equally to share a meal in Ishmael’s usual silence.

The horrible taste finally out of her mouth, Ishmael left, waving goodbye to her surprise friend, and went back to spend the rest of her day on the Pequod. When the evening came, she went back home, and kept her secret for years until Ahab asked about it - she might have kept it even longer if the captain had kept silent.

This summer, much to Nelly’s relief, Ishmael’s crisis was less intense when Ahab left. Or maybe it was still as intense, but since Ishmael had gotten used to spending more time outside, it took less of a toll on everyone’s life. However, due to some… unforeseen events, Ahab had to stay at sea for a bit longer, spending nearly the entire month of October away from her family, which had not been a good thing for Ishmael’s health. Still, the little girl kept on going outside, though it was more in order to sit down somewhere and sulk. Heathcliff, however, despite seeing his sister being so sad, kept on trying to engage with her, to play with her, or at least to make her smile a bit.

“Hey, Ish!” He’d come up to her with a bright smile, gently pulling on the sleeve of her coat. “D’ya wanna play with me? C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise!”

Ishmael stayed silent, still not talking back then. She hesitated, really, as she did not really want to engage in anything but staring at the street’s pavement, go home, stare at her hammock and then fall asleep in it. But at the same time, she did not want to leave Heathcliff alone. He might be one of the few people she tolerated already back then, and she did want to engage with him, at least a bit more before she completely ran out of energy for the day. Thus, she turned her head in his direction to answer, which seemed to bring him unbridled joy.

“A’right! The game’s simple: we’re gonna race up to Wuthering Heights, and the winner gets to be the one to eat the last piece o’ cheesecake, ok?”

Ishmael’s interest had somewhat died down immediately, as she wasn’t even sure she’d have the energy to walk all the way up to the mansion, especially not with the wind pushing her down, much less actually running there. To her, it was a game already lost, yet, not wanting to seem too mean to her brother, she nodded in acceptance, and slowly managed to get up.

“Ready? Start!” Heathcliff shouted, quickly starting to run in front of his sister, who only had the energy to run for a few seconds before shifting to a light trot.

And yet, even while simply trotting, she had to do everything she could to not think about the rest of the way, to only keep in mind her hammock, the rest she would get once she got home…

She had lost sight of her brother for a moment, until she arrived right in front of Wuthering Heights, and saw him sitting under a window, hidden by the shadows, his expression somber. Picking up that this was a sudden change, Ishmael carefully walked closer to him until he gestured for her to come on all four, which she did to crawl forward. Then, he pressed a finger against his lips to tell her not to make a noise. At first, Ishmael was a bit confused about what kind of new game they were playing, until she heard their mothers.

“Seriously, Ahab! Ye’re always the one complaining about my methods, yet the second ye can get away from ‘em, ye run off like a fuckin’ coward!”

“Oh come on, you think I planned this?! I would’ve come back sooner but I had something else to do! And I had to sell the oil and pay my crew! I’m responsible for them too, y’know?! Ishmael and Heathcliff have you to take care of them at least, these dumb bastards have no one but me!”

“These ‘dumb bastards’ are ADULTS!!!”

The two children, listening to their mothers being at each other’s throat from the shadows of the garden, looked at each other in horror, unsure of what to do. Normally, Ahab was already home for a month and was the one taking care of dinner and would welcome her children, or Josephine would be off of work a bit later to take care of them, but this was unlike usual. Ishmael felt a cold shiver go through her. It was maybe the first time she had heard her mothers screaming at each other, and it was shaking her world upside down. Without really knowing whether she intended to stop them or to jump at her Mom’s neck, Ishmael started getting up until Heathcliff quickly caught her by the sleeve.

“Wait!” He hissed quickly, trying to keep her from revealing their presence. “I don’t think this is a good idea… They’re fightin’...”

Ishmael pulled back as a form of insistence, but she did not make a sound, nor did she truly squirm out of Heathcliff’s grip.

“Ma and Mom look mad… You know how they get when they’re like that… I want to see them too, but…”

The words were left hanging in the air, and Ishmael hesitated for a bit longer, but, understanding what Heathcliff meant, she slowly let him guide her back to the manor’s entrance, away from the window.

“... At least tomorrow morning they may not be as mad anymore…” Heathcliff mumbled, trying to lighten the mood back up, but to no avail. While Ishmael did look back at the light from the window, she did follow her brother in a docile silence.

And indeed, when Ahab and Josephine did find them in their respective room, asleep, they did not question it. At least Ahab did not. Instead, she was already making plans for the next year’s whaling season, spending most of her time in her room for about a week until Josephine warned her that she was acting more like Ishmael than herself.

As for Ishmael, even though everyone had insisted she was somewhat alright the day before - at least fine enough to be able to leave her room and go all the way downtown - she was back in her room, hardly having the energy to leave. Ahab - once Josephine had talked some much-needed sense into her - had to redo her entire little therapy. Though this time she had the experience from years prior, Ahab was pretty sure it had ironically become more difficult. Ishmael had new toys she seemed to cherish, a few more animals whose names Ahab didn't know, whose origin she was perfectly unaware of, and she hardly seemed motivated to engage in anything with anyone that wasn’t Heathcliff or Catherine. For the captain it was like a small stab wound to her ego, but for Ishmael it was probably a logical adaptation to her absent mothers, and so Ahab let Heathcliff and Catherine do what they knew how to do better than Ahab herself, hoping that this would be enough for her to get her baby back at least.

Once again gradually, Ishmael started getting out of her room more. In fact, she technically started leaving her room early this year. Though she still hadn’t recovered her full energy, Ishmael would sometimes go all the way outside on grey, rainy days. She would get scolded for that, as her hair could not protect her from getting a nasty cold, but never seemed to care, and hardly even dared to stick around the corridors of the manor for too long, lest Hindley found her.

It was also around that time that Catherine, who was getting “concerningly adventurous” according to Mr. Earnshaw, had started trying to sneak out of the property. The little lady, who had been seeing Heathcliff and Ishmael being able to walk out to go into the city and escape Hindley while she would have to remain trapped in Wuthering Heights for a long time, now, had started to get enough of it, which Ahab could easily understand - even though her own rebellious streaks had started back when she was closer to Ishmael and Heathcliff’s age rather than 4 years old. Obviously, the two older kids would get pulled along by the little lady that was all too eager to explore the world, and would try to help her along, not quite understanding the trouble they were getting themselves into. Though they meant to help their friend, the line between children running away and accidental kidnapping was entirely resting on the Earnshaws’ kindness and patience.

As a result, though they would still go to the city in order to avoid Hindley from time to time, they had started staying around the mansion a bit more, in order not to leave their younger friend behind too much. Obviously, sometimes, fights were meant to happen due to Hindley’s provocations. For example, one early afternoon, right after Nelly had managed to stop Catherine’s - and by extension Ishmael’s as well - escape attempt of the day.

“I already told you that you should not go outside of the property without your parents’ agreement, my Lady.” Nelly scolded, gently pulling Catherine by the arm, the little girl trying to struggle against the grip while Ishmael was silently following, her head bowed down.

“But they already said no!” The little lady protested with a pout. “Why can Ishmael and Heathcliff go play outside and not me? I want to go!”

“Because…” The young Butler hesitated a bit, but tried not to let it show too much in front of the child she has to take care of. “Because they’re old enough.”

Catherine frowned, probably hating this catch-all answer that had been repeated for the entirety of her short life, and kept on struggling against Nelly’s grip, though it was probably more to put on a show of resistance than out of any real hope of escaping. After this, the young Butler had to put in great effort into trying to make her little lady smile again, reading her several stories in a peaceful room of the mansion. Ishmael was simply hanging around close, until Heathcliff had eventually found them and started playing with her, the two of them playing with a ball that they would make roll on the floor - knowing very well that actually tossing it would earn them a firm scolding from Nelly - Ishmael even using one of her little animals to push back the ball.

Unfortunately, this moment of peace was broken when Hindley found them as well, and decided to come and read by himself in the same room, which, when she was telling the story to Ahab, Nelly had argued seemed to be “the normal behavior of a boy seeking company in such a big and cold place” but Ahab had decided was just the brat being a brat and looking for more occasions to pick a fight with her children.

Apparently it had all started when Catherine was interrogating Nelly about deaf people, due to a character from one of her books. The teenager, while unsure whether this subject would be too complicated for such a young child, had decided to answer her questions nonetheless, about deaf people, the hearing loss of the elderly, and finally came the subject of communication.

“But then how can they have talks with people if they can’t hear answers?” Catherine had asked, looking up at the teenager.

“Well… Since they can still see, people usually communicate with them through gestures. There is a whole language of just signs and gestures of the hands to speak with them.”

Catherine had seemed satisfied with the answer, although learning that Nelly had no idea of how to speak this new language dampened this enthusiasm a bit, and the next minute she had forgotten all about it, asking for Nelly to resume the story. Heathcliff, however, had not quite forgotten about it yet.

“A way to speak only with gestures…” He mumbled before glancing at Ishmael making the ball roll towards him in a gesture that was more out of reflexive repetition now than actual fun. “D’ya think ya could learn to speak like that?”

Ishmael stared at him, blinking a few times in what seemed to be confusion.

“Ya know, that deaf language? It doesn’t need words to speak. How about we try to learn that so ya can talk without having to use yer words? It wouldn’t make noise. Ya don’t like noises, maybe it would work?”

Ishmael blinked a few times, but did not quite seem interested in this idea at the time, probably deeming her own gestures a good enough language for the people she loves to understand her and not considering that she should learn how to communicate with people who will not know her as well as her brother, mothers or friends. Whatever she was thinking, it ended up being suddenly interrupted by Hindley letting out an obnoxious laugh.

“You really think she can learn sign language? I’d say you should start learning proper English first, but given how she is too retarded to even talk I doubt this would even be achievable.”

“HEY! Take that back!!” Heathcliff immediately jumped up, leaving the ball to roll past him as he clenched his fists, already ready to throw hands.

“Heathcliff…” Nelly groaned in warning, slowly closing the book she was reading to Catherine when she saw that neither boys were listening to her.

“Hmpf, look at you barking… You may actually be siblings after all, if the both of you are dumb as dogs.”

“Ya’d better shut yer mouth right now or else…”

Nelly sighed and had to put down Catherine, who had been observing the scene from the young Butler’s lap with eyes wide with surprise and fear at the sudden aggressivity, in order to get up and walk to the two boys.

“Or what? You’re gonna bark some more or will your retarded sister freak out again? Real threat he-”

Before Hindley could even finish his sentence, Heathcliff’s fist was already in his face and the two fell down in a tangle of punches, kicks, and even one bite from Heathcliff on Hindley’s hand. Nelly quickly interrupted the fight, harshly pulling Heathcliff off of her young master.

“Enough!! You two are scaring Lady Catherine!”

Surprisingly, these words were the magical spell that stopped the two boys in their frenzy. The two, disheveled, panting and even bleeding a bit - Heathcliff suffering a bloody lip and nose while his bite on Hindley’s hand had managed to break the skin - turned to the little girl who was crying in the warm shelter of Ishmael’s protective embrace. Heathcliff looked down and stopped struggling as Nelly dragged him away, while Hindley was grunting in disdain, holding his bleeding hand, before he suddenly turned around and ran off on his own.

“Ah… H-Hindley…! Wait!” Catherine scrambled out of Ishmael’s arms to run after her brother in the dark corridors of the mansion, sobbing. “Don’t go! Wait!”

Nelly let out a long sigh, before turning to Ahab’s children with a stern face.

“I will go with Lady Catherine so she doesn’t get scared. As for you, Heathcliff, I will tell Miss Josephine about your behavior and she will be the one to decide on the punishment you deserve.”

And with this, Nelly stepped out of the room as well, leaving the two siblings alone. They remained silent and unmoving for a moment, until Ishmael, with a bit of hesitation, slowly got up and came to gently pull on Heathcliff’s sleeve, trying to get his attention. However, Heathcliff immediately jerked his arm out of her grip and turned around to push her away so roughly she fell back on the floor.

“Leave me alone!” He screamed. “All o’ this is YER fault!! ‘Cause ya can’t be fuckin’ NORMAL!! Ya’re still unable to talk and defend yerself like everyone else, ya can’t be bothered to even fuckin’ try like everyone else! Y’know what?! Hindley was right! You ARE a retard!! Even Cathy’s smarter than ya, and I’m TIRED of always having to put up with yer shite!!!”

Ishmael curled up on herself on the floor, her little body shaking as she did not dare to get back up. Josephine had taught her not to snap back at people. Heathcliff turned around and ran off, leaving his sister behind. Once she had waited long enough to be certain nobody was coming back, and for her panicked breathing to slow down back to a manageable level, Ishmael slowly got up, still trembling, her cheeks soaked with tears. Remembering that Josephine had also taught her about not throwing tantrums, especially when the pain is near-insignificant, Ishmael took a moment to quiet her hiccuping sobs before daring to step out of the room.

She looked both ways to make sure no one was here to see her, and cautiously hugged the walls or sneaked into the shadows of the grand mansion, looking for her Ma, believing wholeheartedly - if only for a short moment - that she could be the solution to all of her pains. She wandered for a long time in the corridors while looking for Josephine, taking detours to avoid coming too close to anyone.

Finally, she found her, giving instructions to a group of Butlers to clean the mansion. In silence, Ishmael waited for her to finish, remembering that Ma doesn’t like to be interrupted at work. She slowly realized that it may have been a very bad idea to come and see her only for a hurt that cannot be seen, but before she could decide to leave, Josephine was already in front of her.

“Hey, there.” Her Ma said with a soft voice and smile, coming to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “D’ye need something, Ishmael? Ma has to get back to work soon, but I can help ye if ye want.”

While hearing her Ma’s soft voice had comforted Ishmael a bit, the cursed word of “work” came once again between her and her Ma. Understanding the importance of work for Josephine, Ishmael took a tentative step back, resulting in the loss of the warm hand on her shoulder. The little girl hesitated, her gears turning a bit faster in her head under panic, before she shook her head and gestured towards the window.

“Oh, ye wanna go outside?” Falling for the little girl’s lie, Josephine took a look at her pocketwatch. “D’ye want me to go get ye some coins so ye can get yerself som’thing?” Ishmael shook her head, not wanting to bother Josephine any further. “Well, if ye change yer mind, there might be some coins in my jacket that’s on the coat hanger, ye can take ‘em and buy yerself a treat with that, alright?”

Ishmael let Josephine press a loving kiss on her forehead, the little flames tickling the Butler’s nose for a second before they separated and Josephine left, telling Ishmael that they would see each other in the evening. Ishmael waved back sluggishly, and then remained frozen in place for a moment, having probably no idea where to actually go, or what to do to stop hurting. Finally, she started wandering through the mansion again.

It was probably around that time that Ahab was interrupted in her evening nap by Nelly coming to shake her awake. Ahab was ready to make the young Butler pay for it, if she hadn’t mentioned that her children were unwell.

“Heathcliff had a fight with Ishmael, I think. I found him sulking in a room.” She hesitated a bit before opening her mouth again, but Ahab cut her short.

“Alright, I’m going to reconcile them if you can’t be bothered to do your job of looking after them.” She groaned as she got up from the chair she was napping in, her wooden leg slamming against the floor with more force than necessary.

“... With all due respect, Ma’am, I must ask that you listen to me.” Nelly said, not backing off one bit, which Ahab found sincerely displeasing. Which right this stranger had on her family? But the young Butler continued pushing either way. “Both Heathcliff and Ishmael need time when they get upset. Ishmael in particular, due to her… difficulties communicating out loud. I believe we should probably comfort them separately first and then try to get them to… sort out their differences.”

Ahab stared down at the teenager in front of her. Indeed, Nelly was used to working with the children, for longer periods of time than either mothers, much to both of their shame. Still, the idea that she knew more about Heathcliff and Ishmael than Ahab and Josephine was ridiculous, and Ahab did make sure she would not have the right to eat for a few days for this blatant insult. But she did have a good point about the two of them needing to calm down separately. Sighing, Ahab nodded.

“Fine. I’ll go look for Ishmael, you go talk to Heathcliff.”

“Understood.” Was the last word Nelly said before exiting the room in a hurry. At least she is efficient.

Ahab left the room as well not long after, listing in her mind all the places in the mansion Ishmael liked to hide in whenever she wanted to sulk or be alone. The first option was, obviously, her room, to which Ahab quickly walked. At first, it seemed to be the same as usual, but just to make sure, the captain opened the closet’s door slowly to reveal her daughter, sitting in a fetal position among her clothes, rocking back and forth in silence, barely seeming to register her mother’s presence for a few seconds until she blinked slowly. Her gears were turning slowly as well, while her hair was burning so bright anyone else would be worried she had started a fire.

“... Nelly told me you and Heathcliff had a fight.” Ahab said as she came to sit down near her daughter, on the floor, making sure not to block a possible exit, if Ishmael felt like fleeing from this conversation.

Ishmael remained unmoving for two long minutes, staring at the floor, her eyes still red from crying, until she slowly nodded as an answer. Ahab was pretty sure she saw more tears well up in her eyes. Sighing, she tried to come up with something to try to communicate with her stubbornly silent daughter. Ahab was never good at finding the right words for her children, only for her crew, her former employers, her rivals… Josephine was the better mother, but she was rarely ever there, so Ahab had to learn - she remembers with shame how Josephine had teased her when she had asked for basic advice on how to comfort a child. Ishmael hardly ever reciprocated hugs that she had not asked for, and was hardly engaging in any form of communication, especially when she was sulking like that. What to do, then? Well, she had nodded at least, that was a decent start, though Ahab would have much preferred something more… She is her mother, after all, and it’s not like she had whipped the damned child!

“... Are you alright?” She ended up mumbling, wanting to yell at herself immediately afterwards. Of course she was not fine, she had just gotten into a fight with one of the only two kids who liked to have her around! “... Are you hurting?”

This time, a choked sob escaped Ishmael’s lips as she lowered her head, pressing her forehead against her knees and hiding her face behind the circle of her arms. After a small moment, though, she nodded again.

“Where?” Ahab asked, once again before thinking for a second and realizing how dumb it was to ask a question whose answer she knew could not be summed up in a word.

Ishmael may have pondered the question, but she would not answer anyway. Swallowing down an exasperated sigh, Ahab looked away, focusing on the collection of animal figurines carefully lined up on the shelves. Obviously Ishmael was hurting, but what could be done about it? What was Ahab usually doing, when something bothered her? Usually, she would simply destroy what bothered her as quickly as possible so she could move on, but she couldn’t tell her daughter to destroy her other child. Josephine had suggested calming activities, like reading, embroidery, sewing, knitting, drawing maybe, but none of these activities ever attracted Ishmael, except for reading, she loves this, to the point where she already knew all the books adapted for her young age in the mansion. Maybe getting out…? Ahab did like to follow her own father outside when he went out fishing with friends, back when she was Ishmael’s age. Maybe this could do the trick…? And even if fishing in itself wouldn’t, Ishmael liked getting out anyway, so if they go to the nearby park where there is a rather nice pond to fish at, at least it would give the poor girl the fresh air she seems to need.

“... Hey, do you wanna know something Mom likes to do when she’s feeling a bit down?” She asked, finding within herself the courage to look at her daughter again. Ishmael slightly raised her head to look at Ahab. “It’s rod-fishing. It helps relax, you know? Do you wanna try it?” Ishmael remained frozen for a long time, but eventually nodded again and Ahab got up, followed by her daughter. “Then let’s go. We will go to that park you like.”

This seemed to be enough to fully convince Ishmael, as she got up and quickly caught up to Ahab, grabbing the thick sleeve of her jacket instead of her hand as they walked out of her room. Ahab led her daughter to the room she and Josephine shared so she could take the material needed. She wondered if the rod was maybe a bit too big for such a small girl, but she eventually shook the idea out of her head, knowing that she would be here to help Ishmael anyway.

“Can you help Mom out?” She asked, handing her the buckets. “You can put the small one into the bigger one so you don’t have to use both hands.”

Ishmael nodded and followed the instructions as Ahab took a pocket knife and verified if everything was fine with the rod, the line, the hook, before taking another line and two or three hooks just in case. She put them in one of the buckets Ishmael is carrying, and gently pulled her daughter’s hand away when she noticed the interest she was taking to these little trinkets.

“Careful, these can hurt.”

Ishmael listened and stopped trying to touch the hooks, instead following her mother as she walked out of the room towards the mansion’s entrance hall, catching up to her and grabbing at her sleeve again. The few servants they walked past hardly minded them, so Ahab assumed Nelly was not quite done with Heathcliff yet.

“You should put your raincoat on, even if it isn’t raining or snowing. The winds can be quite strong, especially on this damn hill.”

Ishmael looked at her for an instant, seeming a bit surprised, but then she looked around, confused about how to follow her order. After a short moment she decides to put the buckets down so she can go and put her raincoat on, as well as her little gloves and boots so she could follow her mother down the hill.

“Everything alright? You’re not too cold?” Ahab asked when she saw Ishmael stop in her tracks to put her hood on, but the little girl shook her head firmly and caught up on her again.

It brought a smile to Ahab’s lips, to see her daughter being a bit more excited for this than she had feared. The walk was a bit long, but at least it was to a park Ahab knew Ishmael liked. Well, at least the girl would usually ask to go there in spring to catch frogs, or anything she could get her hands on, really. Josephine doesn’t like the fact that Ishmael still goes there anymore, ever since she had enthusiastically brought back a snake that escaped and caused a panic in the mansion for three days. Ishmael always had a passion for catching whatever moving thing she could find in the park, even going so far as to walk into the the water to try to catch a fish bare-handed when Ahab had her back turned on her, when she was only 4, so it was hardly a surprise when she perked up at attention when Ahab told her:

“So, in order to catch fishes with a rod, we have to start by catching earthworms. Do you know a good spot to find them?”

Ishmael then looked around, before settling for running to the water, stopping at the little expanse of dirt between the edge of the grass and the clear water. She crouched down to start digging a bit, Ahab grimacing slightly as she was already imagining Josephine’s reaction to the dirt their daughter would have on her clothes when they would come back, and she came back with a good handful of slightly wet dirt, and one or two earthworms trying to wriggle out of her hands.

“Good, very good.” Ahab congratulated with a smile and took the small bucket out of the bigger one, emptying its contents on the ground, before presenting it to Ishmael. “You have to put just the worms in it, you can just put the dirt back down. The goal is to put a few more of these in there and then we can start fishing.”

This time, Ahab followed Ishmael to the spot she had found and set the bucket on the side to kneel down as well and search with her daughter. While Ahab already knew of her daughter’s passion for hunting down and catching all kinds of critters, she was still surprised by her efficiency at it. The little girl was often raising her head to put more of her preys into the bucket, her movements swift and efficient, and the only reason why Ahab probably caught more than her is because her hands are larger than hers. And also because, for a moment, Ishmael had stopped to look at the water, her gaze losing itself into the clear depths with what Ahab understood to be longing.

“... Frogs are not out today, it’s too cold. They will be back later, and then you will be able to play with them.” She said, gently patting her hood-covered head.

Ishmael did not detach her stare from the water, so Ahab assumed she had to continue looking for worms alone, until Ishmael joined her again hurriedly when she noticed her digging again.

After a moment, the bottom of the bucket was already covered with enough worms to fish for the rest of the day, and then some, yet Ishmael kept on putting in more worms, even when Ahab got up with the bucket.

“I think we’ve had enough to fish, now.” She joked, but it didn’t seem to register into Ishmael’s mind that her hunt was supposed to be over.

For a moment, Ahab was tempted to shake her daughter out of it, but then she remembered that she was here to help her daughter calm down, think of something else than family fights, and if she wanted to do so by catching more worms, so be it. They would set the worms not used for fishing free afterwards.

Ahab thus calmly walked back to the material, deciding to settle down under an oak standing proudly on a slight bump on the otherwise flat expanse of the park. She sat down on its large roots, putting the bucket of worms on her right with the extra hooks and line on the ground next to it, and the larger bucket, made for the fishes, on the other side. She glanced at Ishmael but the little girl was still absorbed by her hunt. She wondered where would she put her new worms, now that she had taken the bucket away: in her pockets, or would she free them immediately, or would she come all the way here to put them in the bucket nonetheless?

Focusing back on the purpose on their trip, Ahab hooked one of the worms gathered by her daughter and cast. At this time of the year, the fishes were only slowly coming back and their meat was not the tastiest - Ahab still remembers it from back in the days she did not live with Josephine yet - but seeing the bait fall into the water, feeling the weight of the rod in her hands, Ahab felt instantly relaxed. Finally, back into her element. Maybe that’s what Ishmael was feeling too when she was digging into the dirt, looking for more worms.

After a moment, a movement she saw from the corner of her eyes distracted Ahab, and she turned her head to see Ishmael put a small handful more of worms into the bucket. However, unlike what Ahab had thought she would, Ishmael does not go back to her own hunt, instead watching Ahab fishing with curiosity.

“... Do you want to learn?” Ahab proposed, to which Ishmael dared to glance at her for a moment before nodding and coming closer with enthusiasm. Ahab then smiled and pulled the bait out of the water so she could show her daughter what she had done to the worm. “First, you have to put the worm on the hook, see? Like that, it will attract the fishes which hope to get a treat. Then, you have to…” She interrupted herself for a moment as she gently led Ishmael to come and sit on her lap. “Here, take the rod so we can do it together.” Ishmael listened and the two of them cast the line together. The bait draws a bow in the sky before falling in the clear water, creating ripples for a moment. “... And then you wait. You wait until the fish bites the bait, and then you will have to pull it out. There are not many fishes at this time of the year so it may take some time. You can… You can go back to finding more worms if you want, I’ll call you when I catch a fish.” Ahab added the last part with a bit of hesitation, fearing that, maybe, as Josephine had told her several times, fishing was not a suitable activity for a young girl, no matter how different Ishmael may be.

However, much to her surprise, Ishmael did not move at all, not even letting go of the rod. Well, maybe it was more out of tiredness, as Ishmael did doze off to sleep in the next minutes, Ahab having to try to reposition her on her lap so she would be more comfortable. She bothered her a bit to move, especially when she had to gut the rare catches - God knows what Josephine would do to her if she were to find only a drop of blood on their daughter’s clothes. Still, Ahab managed, letting her daughter sleep and recover a bit, concluding that fishing may not have been such a good idea but at least getting a bit of fresh air was good enough.

Ishmael napped for long hours, to the point where Ahab was starting to get worried about what Josephine might have told her if Ishmael couldn’t manage to fall asleep on time that night. But in the end, she never shook her awake until Ishmael opened her eyes by herself. The little girl looked around her, seeming confused as to where she was and how she ended up here, until her gaze fell on the bucket in which a few rather meager fishes were resting.

“Interested in tonight’s dinner?” Ahab asked with a smile as Ishmael looked up at her, still visibly trying to wake herself up. “I’m sure Ma will manage to make something good out of them, don’t you think?”

Ishmael, of course, remained silent, looking like a kitten who had just opened its eyes for the first time and needed time to comprehend anything. After a while, she found it within herself to straighten up on Ahab’s lap, her gaze staying on the point where the line was disappearing under the water, just like Ahab’s. For several minutes, the two of them remained sitting in this peaceful silence, Ahab not wanting to rush her with the fight she had with Heathcliff right when she came out of a rather long nap. Trying to find literally anything else to monologue about, Ahab’s mind settled on the only other thing she knew she could connect to her daughter with.

“So, what kind of critters do you want to catch this evening?” She joked, but then Ishmael looked at her, then down at the worms, then at the fishes, and finally pointed at the fishes, which made Ahab’s smile stumble and fall in surprise. “You wanna learn how to catch fishes?”

Ishmael nodded, and sat straighter on Ahab’s lap, cautiously taking the rod in her hands. Ahab still held the rod, but let Ishmael take it, surprised by this new development.

“... I can teach you a bit but we will have to go home soon enough, you know?” She had tried to warn Ishmael, but wasn’t even sure she had heard her.

Still, feeling the joy of having managed to find a true common ground with her daughter slowly warming her up, Ahab smiled lightly. They could stay a bit longer. If only for an hour, or even half an hour, for Ahab to teach Ishmael, to watch her catch her first fish, to see her reaction… Hell, they could even stay all night long, fishing at the light of Ishmael’s hair… But no, no they couldn’t: Ishmael just had a nap, but she still needed to sleep at night.

“... Relax your position a bit, you’re sitting a bit too straight and gonna hurt your shoulders.” Ahab said softly, gently pushing Ishmael’s shoulders down back to a more relaxed stance. “Here, good. You’ve got to keep your strength for when the fish will bite…”

At last, it was something she and her daughter had together, that no one could steal from them. Ahab did her best to stay calm in order to avoid startling Ishmael, but she wanted to hug her, to hold her in a tight embrace and not let go, and to laugh, to express the joy so overwhelming it threatened to spill out from her eyes or bubble up into her throat. Her hands were trembling so much she had managed to let the next fish escape, much to Ishmael’s disappointment.

By that time, it was already time to go home. Ishmael visibly did not want to stop, but she was docile enough, and had even insisted to be the one freeing the worms and proudly carry their catches back home.

Ever since that day, whenever Ishmael started to sulk, feeling down or when she demanded it herself - coming to pull on Ahab’s sleeve, carrying with her the entire equipment - Ahab took her fishing. Josephine, at first, had commented that she was surprised their little girl enjoyed fishing so much, but then when she saw the enthusiasm shared by both Ishmael and Ahab, she smiled and joked that she should actually have seen it coming. Convinced - or rather forced to admit - that their daughter had developed a love for fishing about as big as her love for catching critters, Josephine had even proposed Ahab that they’d get Ishmael her own for her next birthday, which, for once, was a gift they were sure would receive much success.

However, while Ishmael, and Heathcliff too to an extent, were already running around the city and its parks, and learning how to get themselves a meal pretty much since the age of 5, they did not receive the scholar education Josephine wished for them yet. Ahab and Josephine were considering sending them to the local school, even though this would considerably impact their finances, until Mrs. Earnshaw proposed that, since Catherine was reaching the age her parents found suitable to start paying for a private teacher for her - a different one from Hindley so the boy would not be held down by the teacher having to juggle between two students of vastly different academic levels - she would ask for both Heathcliff and Ishmael to be included as well.

The possibility to give their children access to a better education than mere public school would allow was one that neither of the two mothers even considered refusing. Thus, at the age of 7, the two children had started attending lessons dispensed by a rather strict but not incompetent teacher: Mr. Thornhill. However, it went rather sour for Ishmael right off the bat, then quickly for Heathcliff after that, too. The lack of words despite proving not to suffer from muteness seemed to profoundly annoy Thornhill who tried to insist for her to speak up. Not only that, but the young girl was hardly showing any interest in most subjects, except for biology - when it came to animals - and mathematics, thus getting bored most of the time, which would lead her to squirm in her chair, hoping to stretch her legs for a bit, only for Thornhill to harshly reprimand her. Heathcliff, being quick to defend his sister as per usual, would immediately jump in, which would only make things worse. Quickly, Ishmael started closing up again, having much less energy and patience for anything, really. It came to a point where she had stopped going out fishing at all for a few weeks, until she left to go on her own one afternoon, instead of going to class. It had caused another ruckus through the whole mansion, until Ahab had found her. Despite the punishments she would receive, Ishmael would refuse to go back to her lessons, skipping them all, much to her mothers’ concern, though Josephine was more annoyed, while Ahab was understanding: she went through this as well.

“We spoiled her too much…” Josephine would lament, pinching the bridge of her nose with visible annoyance.

“Shhh…” Ahab would reassure her partner, gently rubbing her shoulder in a comforting manner. “It’s okay. She’s only 7, it’s fine. I also preferred to go outside to play rather than follow my lessons at that age.”

And though Ishmael often got scolded and punished by Josephine when coming back home from an entire day outside, it turned out that she feared the teacher the most. Her favorite destinations were the park where Ahab had taught her how to fish, and the Pequod where she could fish as well, but also where she would observe the sailors present at the same time as her play cards and play with them, getting taught more calculation methods using poker chips, something Starbuck took a lot of joy in, it seemed. While on her way, Ishmael had also slowly started to slow down when in front of Finlay’s workshop. The noise was still horrible, apparently, but Ishmael had slowly learned to block it off. The old man had decided that, for this spring, he would try to get out of his hibernation that had started long before Ishmael came to life, and redecorated a bit, even starting to put potted plants to his windows, though they were not blooming quite yet. She never stopped by, though, merely waving politely at him from the other side of the road before keeping on her way.

This life rhythm seemed to satisfy her, until May when she went to Starbuck directly, carrying with her a school manual for beginning readers. The message was simple; she wanted the First Mate to teach her how to read, no matter how bored she might get or how much she would complain. He was a bit surprised by this development and asked why the sudden interest in reading, even though he got no other answer than the manual being pushed into his hands and Ishmael sitting down and visibly gathering all the patience she could muster.

“So you, uh, want us to teach you the basics before we leave?” Starbuck asks, scratching his head with a worried look. “I mean… we could maybe but I don’t think either of your moms would like you to just get the basics… Would we even manage before June?”

But no matter his interrogations, Ishmael was visibly determined to pick up reading, even though she hardly spoke a word - though, given how late of a bloomer she was, the few words she did speak out loud were of the utmost importance - and, after a moment of reflection he decided to accept. Teaching Ishmael how to read and write would be an arduous task, given the utter lack of interest the little girl had given to letters, but maybe the motivation of being able to learn by herself and keep on avoiding this teacher she was so afraid of would be enough to compensate, he told himself.

That evening, when Ahab had noticed the reading manual Ishmael held close when she came back, she asked questions out of curiosity, to which Ishmael, in a small mumble, had redirected her to Starbuck. So the next day, Ahab had asked her First Mate some explanations, and learned of Ishmael’s new resolution, despite how… complicated their first seance had been. Still, Ahab was proud that her daughter not only had started speaking more recently, but was also trying to learn through the ways she knew - though where she found this book, Ahab never got to know. Sadly, however, the Pequod and Starbuck would eventually have to leave the harbor in a month, and, predictably, Ishmael’s new teacher would not be able to stay any longer.

Thus, Ahab had shared the good news with Josephine, which had seemed to surprise and reassure the Butler - their daughter was not a lost cause after all! - and the decision to assign Nelly as Ishmael’s teacher was taken with approval from the Earnshaws. Poor Nelly, who had just become a Butler instead of a Butler-in-training, ended up being relegated to the role of Ishmael’s teacher. On one hand, while she was about as energetic as Heathcliff and Catherine, Ishmael was also the calmer out of the three, so it would seem like a relief, but given her history of lack of attention to class, and the fact that her speech was still building, Nelly still had a lot of work to dread.

So, for a solid month, Ishmael spent her days getting taught how to read by Starbuck during the afternoon, and in the evening she would come bother Nelly to even get some much-needed extra lessons, as she never seemed to be able to quite get the correct pronunciations into her mind. In the end, even Catherine and Heathcliff were trying to help her, and though the progress was slow, it was there. Even Josephine would not find it within herself to complain about how much longer Ishmael took to learn, knowing how far Ishmael had come already, and that her path was rockier than the other children’s.

And so Ishmael learned. Day after day, no matter how boring it would get, she would come back to Nelly, except for two weeks during the summer, during which it had seemed Ishmael had given up due to sheer exhaustion, but this time, it was her new teacher’s turn not to give up, and she had pushed Ishmael to get some holidays, having only to read and write a bit before letting her free for the day, or teaching her about subjects Ishmael herself asked about. This system functioned well enough: for a moment, Ishmael would manage to push herself to learn as much as a regular person for a few weeks, then Nelly would let her have one or two lighter weeks so she would not be overwhelmed. This, at least, made the young Butler climb a bit higher in Ahab’s esteem.

Ishmael was maturing slowly, but also fast enough for Ahab to feel old already. The next spring, she had ceased to passively let Heathcliff defend her, and punched Hindley in the face herself, sometimes with enough ferocity that Nelly herself got hit, bit or scratched when trying to separate them. In fact, Ishmael was the first one to break his nose, though Heathcliff, having more frequent fights with Hindley and thus more opportunities, ended up being the one to do it the most. And each and every time any of the siblings had a fight with Hindley, Josephine would enter a fury that often resulted in the kid getting yelled at, punished, and not getting food until the next day. Ishmael, who had stopped stealing after reaching the age of reason, had started again to avoid starving until the next day. This time, however, she had gained the awareness of keeping it a secret, and Ahab only got the truth from her when she interrogated her while they were fishing together, or from Heathcliff being a bit too honest at times.

And, during her little criminal trips to the city, Ishmael would cross paths again with that boy that had helped her back when she wanted to get food from the church, this time more frequently, until somehow befriending him, or rather they became allies at least. The boy, Matthew, would show Ishmael his techniques to avoid being caught, where to run to escape the adults, and even invite her into his “secret hideout”, that Ahab still did not manage to know the location of even today, and even include Heathcliff into the group when he understood that he was Ishmael’s brother. For maybe the first time, both Heathcliff and Ishmael saw a group of children form around them, thanks mostly to Matthew, who, surprisingly, turned out to be a pretty popular figure among some of the groups of children of Edinburgh, and introduced the siblings to his own friends. It was a… strange experience for Ishmael not to be mocked for her… differences.

“So, you still think normally, even with these gears?” One of the children asked, looking at the shiny little cogs rotating nervously.

“I… think so? What's it like to ‘think normally’?” Ishmael asked back, her expression perplexed.

The kid could not answer, so another one came forward to ask another question.

“So, your hair doesn’t set anything on fire?”

“No. See? My clothes are fine.” Ishmael said as she lifted her short hair a bit to show how the collar of her wool pullover was still pristine. “I can even put a hood on.”

“Oh, so I can…” The kid raised her hand towards Ishmael’s head, but she hissed at her and slapped her hand away. “Hey!”

“Alright, let’s calm down a bit.” Matthew said as he came between the two girls who seemed ready to start a fight. “Elly, Ishmael is not your pet so you can’t touch her without asking. Ishmael, I’m sorry but please, don’t be too harsh on Elly.”

The two girls groaned, but after a few seconds, Ishmael remembered that, as the older girl, she had to be the bigger person, and mumbled a small apology. The other kid, Elizabeth, was young enough to forgive Ishmael shortly, and through the course of weeks and months, the other children would slowly adapt to Ishmael’s little quirks and Heathcliff’s personality, which would gradually get calmer and more comfortable around them, protective, even. While Josephine was a bit worried to see her children drift away, Ahab knew it was well overdue. She was happy, even: finally Ishmael was making friends, despite her differences. However, this brought another problem…

Indeed, while Ishmael and Heathcliff were going outside, Heathcliff even gradually dropping Thornhill’s lessons in favor of learning together with Ishmael, Catherine remained alone in this mansion too big for her. And neither of the siblings forgot about her. Numerous times they were caught trying to help her sneak out, and severely punished afterwards. A few times, actually, they had succeeded, Ahab having surprised them afterwards as they were playing in a quieter corner of the Earnshaw’s estate, Catherine wearing boyish clothes too big for her - probably Ishmael’s - and covered in as much dirt as the two others, some rarer times even coming back bruised and battered, one time even with a black eye.

“... And how did you get that?” Ahab had asked, pointing towards Catherine’s face with the end of her pipe once all four of them had stopped staring at each other like startled rabbits.

“I, uh… f-fell down?” The little lady squeaked out, which only made Ahab want to laugh out loud.

“Well that ground you fell on must’ve had fists because people hardly get a black eye from falling down.” She joked, the children relaxing a bit when they realized she was not going to yell at them for doing what children do best.

“Hm…” Ishmael turned to Catherine, taking a look at her eye again. “If you said you fell down on a rock, maybe?”

“Unlikely.” Ahab shook her head. “These injuries don’t look the same.”

The children lowered their heads in defeat, all understanding what this meant for Heathcliff and Ishmael.

“... Sorry you’re getting punished because of me…” Catherine mumbled, her voice wavering with regret.

“Eh, it’s alright.” Ishmael assured with a shrug while Heathcliff took a worried look at Catherine’s eye as well.

“Are ya alright?” He asked with a frown. “Is it still hurting?”

“Not anymore…” Catherine raised a hand to touch the darkened skin before whining in pain. “... As long as we don’t touch it…”

“Then don’t touch it.” Heathcliff grumbled with a pouty expression, which only made the little lady laugh softly.

Ahab turned around to start walking towards the mansion, hesitantly followed by the three children, apprehensive of their punishment.

“So…” She glanced at them with a little smirk. “How did you really get this?”

Catherine’s eyes widened before she straightened up with all the might of an outraged princess and an adorable pouty expression as she folded her arms firmly.

“The kids from around the school are awful! Almost as bad as Hindley!” She boldly claimed. “They beat up the weakest ones of us to steal the pennies their mothers gave them to go buy food, steal our playgrounds and even intrude on our turf!”

Ahab glanced at the girl walking next to her with all the pride of a peacock, actually quite surprised at her words.

“Do you know what this word means, at least?” She asked, which seemed to surprise the children, Catherine’s pride deflating slightly.

“Uh… It’s a territory, right?” She asked, looking at Heathcliff and Ishmael who both shrugged and looked at their mother for confirmation.

“Correct. I just didn’t think you’d know it, that’s all.”

“Well, Matthew says it all the time.”

And that was how Ahab learned that her children were basically active participants in a gang war amongst Edinburgh’s children, two days before her departure for the sea. She was unsure whether she should warn Josephine about it, especially since, despite their excuses of Catherine being attacked by one of these kids hanging out around the school and Ishmael and Heathcliff fighting him off, the both of them ended up getting more bruises than those they came back with. In the end, Ahab had decided against it, as Josephine was at work when it all was happening anyway.

Thus, this year, Ahab felt a strange mix of concern and resignation when she boarded her ship. It’s not like she never felt sadness at the thought of leaving partner and children behind for entire months, but with the added concern of summer vacation and her children being caught into fights, her worries jumped to new heights.

“Those are just children's kerfuffles. They’ll be alright.” Stubb had said. “They know how to throw a proper punch.” And Ahab wondered if he had something to do with that in particular, especially given the little proud smirk he had on his face as he said that.

“And now they have friends.” Starbuck added, giving Stubb a short glare before looking back at his captain. “They will not be alone anymore.”

Indeed, it was the first birthday they celebrated by something other than a quiet evening eating fancy food at the Earnshaw’s table - or even the first birthday celebrated at all in a long time, in Ishmael’s case. They had all gathered in their secret hideout, between the dates of Heathcliff and Ishmael’s birthdays, to offer them gifts and eat some cake made by one of the children’s mother together. Apparently, the whole event was quite calm - well, as calm as a group of playing children could be - and Ishmael was allowed to catch small breaks when she felt like it started to get a bit too much, thanks to Matthew’s kindness and understanding.

“... Matthew…?” She had asked with a low voice as she was quietly rocking herself, sitting on a crate in one of the dark corners of their secret base.

“Hm?” The kid, who was eating some leftovers from the cake next to her, raised his head.

“... What are birthdays for?” Ishmael asked. “Like, this is very nice and all, but why do we have to celebrate them?”

“Uuuh…” Poor Matthew, probably confused by this sudden question, took time to think about the question before shrugging. “I dunno. I never really wondered. Like, I have a day just for me when I get to eat cake, play with my friends and get gifts, so I never really questioned it. D’you want us to stop? We can just give the gifts and make no big deal about it.”

“No… No, it’s nice.” Ishmael answered with a small smile that assured the young boy he was doing the right thing.

And it did seem that he managed to make the birthday a success. At least enough of a success for Ishmael to tell Ahab everything about it as soon as she came back to land. And, with the arrival of the cold months, Heathcliff and Ishmael would go out with their friends more often, having even kept the habit of trying to sneak Catherine out, apparently due to the young lady’s own insistence on the matter, though the watchful gaze of the servants was even more oppressive than ever. Often, though, when Ishmael and Heathcliff came back, they were beaming, proud as roosters, and had less injuries than before Ahab left. According to them, the colder months were a period of success in their pointless crusade, when they had managed to retake the territories their rivals had stolen. Indeed, the cold would not be too much concern when they had all the heat of an 8th of August by their side, warming them up while the other children would hardly be allowed out on certain days. Ahab did not particularly want to be told everything about the fights of children, but seeing that her kids were becoming stronger than Hindley’s little victims they used to be at least reassured her of their future. Hindley would still torment them, of course, but they would more often than not bite back.

All in all, between learning through Starbuck, who had become their sole teacher and was applying Nelly’s efficient method, hanging out with their friends, and sometimes even fishing - Ishmael still had not lost her initial interest for it - the two spent less time at the mansion, especially since, with the arrival of spring came back the usual “kerfuffles” between children, Heathcliff and Ishmael often grumbling about having to protect their territory against the same bullies again. Ahab was, frankly, happy to see them anywhere else rather than in Wuthering Heights. No matter how Ahab loved Josephine and was thankful to the Earnshaws for letting her live there, she could never bring herself to admit that this was a place for children, not even for Catherine, kept locked there nearly all the time - and Ahab knows how awful it is for a little girl to be stuck in this kind of place - or even Hindley, spoiled into a rotten little brat.

Still, she did not say anything about it to Josephine, who was going through a rather rough period of time. Not only her children were hardly spending their days in the mansion, but her mistress had even started to get sick right before it was time for Ahab to leave. The Pequod captain had hesitated to stay on land this year, to be supportive and helpful, but Josephine had put on a strong front and told her to go.

“It’s alright.” She had said firmly, even though Ahab was better than that to read people, especially her partner. “You can go, it’s just one summer.”

Ahab had thought about insisting, but she knew how much it would annoy and maybe even anger Josephine. So she accepted, and left again.

This year’s hunt went smoothly. The Pequod’s holds were not full, they had not been in a long while, but they had managed to get enough oil to be at peace for a few months until the time of looking for more temporary jobs came. Ahab, at least, is exempted from these obligations, thanks to the generosity of the Earnshaw couple. Calmly, she walks up the hill, lost in her thoughts and reminiscing all the time that had passed since the first time she had climbed this damned hill, until the fierce wind makes some ashes fly from her pipe. With a slightly exasperated groan, she snuffs out the embers and shoves it into her pocket before accelerating a bit. During the past months there had not been a day during which she hadn’t thought about her family and her heart grows quite a bit restless at the idea of being able to hold them in her arms again. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous, but even more so impatient to close the distance separating them.

On the horizon, she spots a little boy running down the hill towards her, and a smile comes on her face as she catches him in a tight hug. Heathcliff, happy and excited to see his mother being back so early, holds her close for a moment before pulling back with a wide smile.

“You’re back! You’re finally back!” He jumps up and down with energy, Ahab laughing slightly as she ruffles his already messy hair, a bit shorter than they were when she left.

“Did it feel that long?” She teases lightly, even though she knows that for such a young child it most probably did.

“Yes!” Heathcliff confirms. “Especially since Linton arrived! He’s insufferable!”

“Linton?” Ahab asks as she starts walking towards the mansion, followed by her son. It’s probably another one of these kids they fight all the time.

“Yes.” Heathcliff growls like a dog in front of a fox’s den, before pointing down towards a neighboring estate, a smaller thing than Wuthering Heights, but a mansion nonetheless, belonging to the Edgar family; a couple with two children, a sickly boy the same age as Catherine and his younger sister. “He lives there with his family. This summer, he befriended Cathy and he won’t stop coming over!”

“Aw, you’re jealous.” Ahab teases with a smile.

“N-No! I mean… he does take Cathy’s attention, but the worst is how he always tries to separate Cathy from us!”

“Does he? On purpose, you think?” Ahab asks, wondering whether her children are old enough now to hear about how to get rid of an enemy. 10 years old is enough, no?

“Of course it’s on purpose! He always tries to get me and Ish punished! Every time we tried to help Cathy sneak out he would either ask us to come with us and be super loud on purpose, or he would send someone directly to warn Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw. I seriously believe that all the time he doesn’t spend with Cathy he spends staring out the window, Cathy couldn’t even get out this summer! And! He always starts fights with me or Ish but never finishes them, and always complains to the adults about his illness and we always end up being punished…” Ah, so another bully indeed. But a rich one, this time. “Hindley at least has the courage to keep on fighting until Nelly arrives. But Linton is a coward! If he can’t fight ‘because of his weak body’, then he shouldn’t pick fights to begin with!” Heathcliff seethes with rage, which makes Ahab laugh again.

“It almost sounds like you’d prefer Hindley.” She teases again, expecting him to protest loudly, but instead, Heathcliff’s expression suddenly turns somber as he lowers his head, his purple eyes darkening with rage.

“... No. Hindley’s the worst.” He mumbles, eyes down as he seems to be looking down at particularly despicable memories. Ahab, now a bit concerned that something may have happened to her son for him to sound so… different. She slows down a bit to look at him as he shakes his head suddenly and looks up at her. “Have you seen Ish?”

The sudden change in subject surprises Ahab quite a bit as she blinks. It was never rare for the first of the siblings to find her to look for the other. Deciding to ask more about what happened once they would have all reunited, she shakes her head.

“No, I haven’t seen her yet. If she’s not with your friends she should be at the park near the Water of Leith, fishing.”

Heathcliff nods in silence, his eyes downcast for a moment, before he says:

“I’m… gonna go look for her.” He mumbles softly.

Ahab bites the inside of her cheek, feeling bad for probably being the one to remind her son of such bad memories, and then ruffles his hair gently.

“Hey, tomorrow I’ll take you and Ishmael for a walk and buy you some treats at you guys’ favorite bakery, alright?” And finally tell them about how to deal with rivals and enemies. Josephine would not approve but Ahab knows she should have done this a long time ago.

“... Alright.” Heathcliff nods again, hesitating for an instant before quickly trotting off.

Ahab’s gaze follows him down the hill for a moment before she shakes her head and resumes her walk. As Stubb always says: those are probably just children misbehaving; but it didn’t change the fact that Hindley’s actions have been allowed to last for too long, especially if this is Heathcliff’s reaction to mentioning him when Ahab comes back. She will have to speak about it to Josephine, but maybe not tonight. God knows they can hardly share a meaningful conversation in their haste when they see each other again after so long, and trying to have a negative one would only sour the mood.

Ahab arrives on top of the windy hill, letting out a soft sigh as she knocks on the door. Soon, she will be home with her family. Not even that bastard can take that away from her.

As the door isn’t open yet, Ahab prepares herself to come inside by herself as she already had to do several times, but before her hand reaches the doorknob, the door is opened by Nelly, from the inside. The young Butler’s eyes widen as she sees Ahab, and her olive skin pales in what seems to be a mix of shock and anguish.

“Oh… You… You’re back early… Miss Ahab.” She mutters as Ahab steps inside, the young woman having to take a step to the side to let her in.

“Yes. The whales did not stick around for too long this year…” Ahab says as she takes her cap off, before giving Nelly a sharp glance. “How has your summer been?”

“I-it’s been… fine.” Nelly mumbles, closing the door behind Ahab, hardly even daring to look up.

“... You look pale.” Ahab calmly points out, to which the young Butler flinches a bit.

“... Is that so?”

“Yes. Are you sick early this year? Or did something happen?”

“... I… suppose that young master Hindley’s departure did affect me more than I had thought.” Nelly finally admits, which makes Ahab turn towards her fully.

“Hm? That br- kid’s gone?” She asks, surprised that the Earnshaws even managed to bring themselves to be away from their dearest son for one week.

“Yes.” Nelly turns towards Ahab, holding her gaze for a second before lowering her head with a slight frown. “He was sent to a boarding school. He will not be back until Christmas.”

“Good riddance.” Ahab says, not really minding the glance Nelly gives her. She never really hid her disdain for the boy, not even to Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw, simply not insulting him in front of them. The further away he is from her children the better it is.

“Well…” Nelly says, taking a few steps into the entrance hall. “I… will try to find Miss Josephine and tell her of your arrival. If you wish to find Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw, I believe they are in the living room.”

“That would be appreciated. Thanks, Nelly.” The captain says as she watches the young woman disappear among the shadows of the mansion. No wonder Catherine always found this place creepy and always tries to spend her time outside.

Ahab walks through the now familiar way towards the living room, greeting the few servants she crosses paths with by short nods. However, unlike the usual bows and formulated greetings she had received the other years, all they are doing in response is giving nervous glances and mumbling half-coherent salutations mixed with excuses to avoid staying in her presence for too long. The whole atmosphere this year is quite strange, yet Ahab rarely came back mid-September, so maybe this was natural for this time of the year.

Finally, she reaches the doors to the living room, and knocks on the ornate wooden surface, then after a few seconds, a Butler comes to open the large double doors for her and steps aside with a bow that was more akin to the Butlers’ usual greeting.

“Ah, Captain Ahab.” Mr. Earnshaw straightens up slightly as he sees her, getting up to greet her with a handshake, a bit weaker than the other years, his skin looking a bit paler than before, but, unlike Nelly, out of genuine sickness, as he even coughs a bit before adding with a smile. “Welcome back! I must admit, we were not expecting you this early.”

“Yes, the whales left earlier this year.” Ahab says, before bowing her head lightly in front of Mrs. Earnshaw, who bows back at her politely. “My Lady.”

“Does this mean your hunt has been unsuccessful this year?” Mrs. Earnshaw asks, marking the page of the book she was reading before closing it to pay attention to the discussion as her husband comes to sit back in his armchair.

“No, we’ve had a decent amount of money. Enough for me to…”

“This would be unnecessary.” Mrs. Earnshaw, as if already knowing what Ahab was about to say, cuts it short. “You are Josephine’s… beloved. There is no need for you to pay us to stay here.”

Knowing that insisting would be pointless, Ahab nods calmly. At least she could keep her money for her and her family.

“Has your summer been well?” She asks when hearing the patriarch cough again, a small frown coming on her face.

“It has.” Mr. Earnshaw answers once his coughing fits ends, taking a sip of tea before adding: “Well, Catherine has been a bit more… rowdy than usual: she would not stop trying to sneak out! With the help of Heathcliff and Ishmael, might I add…” He looks above the hem of his cup, but Ahab simply shrugs. She was not even here, and even if she was, Josephine is more cut-out for this than she ever was. Sighing, the man puts the cup back on the small plate and adds: “At least she could befriend the young boy next door.”

“I heard about him. Linton, right?”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Earnshaw nods, a small smile on her face, seeming to appreciate speaking about the sick boy. “A lovely boy! It’s a pity he is so fragile: he could barely make a friend before he met our Cathy… And Cathy, too, seems to appreciate having a friend around, for once!”

Ahab bites back a remark about how the young lady could probably be able to have more friends if they allowed her out, like any other child, knowing that it may be inappropriate to mention it when they had just sent their elder to a boarding school and would not see him for a few months. She could empathize with that, at least.

“As for Hindley…” As if on cue, Mr. Earnshaw addresses the subject. “... We have decided to send him to a boarding school for this year, to see if it would work out better for him.”

“Yes, I have heard about it.” Ahab says, managing to keep a straight face. Every time she heard this little brat was finally away from her children made her a bit happier, but she still has the decency not to show it to his parents. “Nelly told me. She seemed rather… distraught, but I’m sure he will do well. Still, I understand that it might be difficult for you.”

“We miss him…” Mrs. Earnshaw answers with a nod, looking down slightly in sadness, but she swallows it down and continues: “... But we know that it was best for him. After all, being the only boy his age in such a big mansion might have left him with a lot of pent up energy he didn’t quite know how to spend correctly.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Earnshaw chimes in, nodding in an almost exaggerated way to his wife’s words. “Now he is with fellow boys his age and can run around all he wants and spend all that extra energy elsewhere.”

“Children sometimes don’t know how to spend their energy in good ways, I am sure you know this.”

“Yes, they sometimes make mistakes, unpurposefully of course.”

“It’s not as big a deal as people make it out to be, really.”

… Alright, if Nelly’s avoidance and pallor was suspicious, this is nearly a confession. A mistake big enough for Hindley, the boy who spent most of his childhood tormenting Heathcliff and Ishmael, and sometimes even Catherine herself, and thus in front of everyone and never tried to hide his disdain for them, and never got punishments nearly as severe as what Heathcliff and Ishmael could’ve gotten, to be sent off to a boarding school and unable to return except for Christmas and summer vacations. A mistake that everyone in the mansion knows of, and that seems to make them nervous in front of Ahab. A mistake big enough that Heathcliff barely dared to complain about it earlier before going to look for Ishmael. And they were not yet back… Maybe Ahab is growing a bit too paranoid on this aspect, but the more she puts the pieces together, the uglier the picture gets. She raises a hand to interrupt the Earnshaws’ half-confession half-apology and simply says, doing her best to keep her words measured and her tone steady:

“I believe this is enough for the pleasanteries. I should go tell Josephine I am back, now.”

“... Josephine is working, right now.” Mrs. Earnshaw speaks up as Ahab is already walking towards the door. “We have guests for dinner.”

“Then I should probably go check on my children.”

This time, no one says a word as she puts her cap back on and steps out of the room. She exits the mansion, now barely even paying attention to the Butlers working around her. She has to find her children. First, she starts walking towards the park where she knows Ishmael likes to fish when she wants to be alone with her thoughts. Maybe, she thinks, just maybe she will cross paths with her children, who were taking a bit of time climbing up the hill. Maybe… Hopefully… But no, she arrives at the park and stops under the oak whose roots they have been sitting on all those years ago, when Ishmael still did not know how to cast properly. A bit lost, she looks around, as if hoping to see the familiar figures of her children, if only Ishmael’s hair, burning as bright as the sun… Nothing.

Forcing her racing heart and the awful feeling crawling right under her skin to calm down, Ahab decides to direct her steps towards the library. Right, silly her just forgot to look at the time: at this hour, it is most likely that Ishmael is reading in her favorite corner of the library, a habit she had started to pick up in order to improve her reading even before Ahab left. Heathcliff probably figured the same thing and went there on his own. However, even as Ahab walks towards the library, her steps swift and quick as she does her best not to start running already, she doesn’t cross paths with her children at all. Not even when she enters the library and walks up to the corner Ishmael usually reads at. Doing her best to recover a semblance of calm, Ahab walks to the counter to talk to the librarian.

“Excuse me, have you seen a young girl with fire for hair and cogs into her head?” She asks directly, doing her best not to be too sudden and scare the woman.

“Well, yes.” The woman blinks a few times, seeming surprised by Ahab’s question, and she taps her lower lip slightly, as if trying to remember what she knows. “She used to come here everyday for a long while, now…”

“Used to?”

“Yes, I don’t think she showed up in… Gosh, it might have been weeks at this point. Well over a month, even!”

A frown comes on Ahab’s face, the cold, disgusting feeling crawling up her spine, now. This librarian cannot tell her anything more important.

“Thanks.” She says as she already walks out, trying to find out where her daughter could be. Could she have completely given up on her studies?... Maybe this Matthew was a worse influence than she had thought.

Walking at a fast pace, she tries to remember what Ishmael and Heathcliff had mentioned about where they were often hanging out with Matthew. While they had kept the emplacement of their hideout a secret, the marketplace was often mentioned as a place around which they liked to play. Changing her direction Ahab notices she will be walking close enough to Finlay’s workshop. Deciding to stop there, hoping her old friend might maybe be able to help her - who knows, maybe Ishmael finally decided to visit him by herself this summer - she pushes the door to the workshop. As per usual, it’s empty, so Ahab doesn’t hesitate to walk further in towards the room in which Finlay shuts himself up to work on his newest inventions or reparations for his clients, ruthlessly pushing the door.

“Wah! Wh- Ahab??” He asks, confused and startled to see her all of a sudden, looking at her as if she is a ghost coming to haunt him. “What are ye doin’ here?!”

“Looking for my kids. Have you seen them?” She answers, folding her arms and trying her best not to tap her foot against the floor too much.

“Wh- No! Why would I know where yer kids are?! What the fuck is wrong with ya?!”

“... It’s just…” Ahab sighs and rubs a hand on her face, unable to look at her friend’s expression right now. She is acting erratic, out of control. She needs to calm down. “Haah… I’m worried. Long story short, everyone at the mansion is suspicious, even Heathcliff, and I haven’t seen Ishmael since I came back even though Heathcliff said he was going to look for her. I… I’m lost, Fin, I don’t know where she is, if she is fine…” She doesn’t quite dare to continue talking, in fear of what might leave her mouth. Her old friend seems to understand, his expression softening, even though he is still unpleased that she barged in there.

“... Look, I don’t know where yer kids might be. Ya’d have more chances if ya’d go to the marketplace, there are lots of kids hanging out ‘round there.”

“I know… I know. It’s just… I hoped maybe you had some useful information or something.” She sighs and turns around. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“... Wait, I might have som’thing.” Finlay says after a few seconds, and Ahab stops in her way down the corridor to turn around, seeing her friend roll his wheelchair closer. “Several weeks ago, ‘round the end of July, one o’ the Butlers from Wuthering Heights came down all the way ‘ere to order me som’thing.”

“A Butler?” Ahab asks, stepping to the side to let her friend get past her and guide her through the corridor into the front of his shop. He gets behind his counter to search through the drawer in which he leaves the patrons of the orders he completes.

“Yes. They asked me to make som’thing rather weird, but I did not ask questions.” Of course he didn’t: Finlay never liked to be brought into messes. He pulls out a patron and spreads it on the counter, Ahab leaning forward to see it better. It seems to be some kind of rectangle, slightly curved. Ahab looks at the proportions demanded, trying to represent herself what it would look like once the work was completed. “The Butler who came told me it was some kinda ‘lid’ but ne’er gave any other precision.” Finlay says as he pulls out a small notebook in which are noted all the orders he has to do. Flipping through it, he finds the month of July and looks at the date the order was made. “She came on the 24th. That’s all I know ‘bout that mansion.”

Ahab narrows her eyes, looking at Finlay. As the one who made this, she has a hard time believing he doesn’t at least have an idea of what it could be used for. Yet at the same time, she knows that his passion lies in the intricacy of delicate mechanism, not in the simplicity of a block of metal to shape into a lid, so he might as well have forgotten the important details. She starts walking towards the door again, throwing above her shoulder:

“Thanks, Finlay. And sorry, I guess…”

She doesn’t wait for an answer before walking out, immediately taking back the way to the marketplace. She has a bad feeling weighing on her shoulders about all this, but maybe, just maybe, her children will be safe, playing with their friends and having forgotten to get back too quickly.

As she arrives at the marketplace, Ahab directly spots a group of children in one of the small, dark alleys surrounding the place, watching the people come and go as they stick together. Deciding that this would at least be a good start, Ahab walks up to them, doing her best to at least seem calm so she would not frighten them.

“Hey, I’m looking for a boy named Matthew. Do you know where he might be?” She asks, the children looking at each other with visible hesitation. Understanding that they might need a bit more than that to talk, Ahab plunges her hand in a pocket to grab the bit of change she still has and show it to the kids. “If you can tell me where he is, I’ll give you that.”

The kids, however, still seem reluctant, until a little girl detaches herself from the group to take a nervous step towards Ahab, looking up at her but never quite daring to maintain eye contact.

“W-what do you want from him…?” She asks, her voice a high-pitched squeak. Ahab narrows her eyes for a moment, but decides that telling the truth might make it quicker.

“I’m looking for Ishmael and Heathcliff. I figured they’d be with him.”

The little girl blinks a few times, as if surprised, and then looks Ahab up and down, a look of realization on her face.

“Ah, right, you’re their mother!” But then, she bites her lip, seeming rather uneasy. “I… know where Matthew is, but… We haven't seen Ishmael and Heathcliff in a while, now… Sorry…”

“... Did they stop coming around the end of July?”

“Y-yes! One day, Heathcliff came alone to tell us they wouldn’t be able to hang out with us for a while now, but he never said precisely how long…” The little girl hesitates, before straightening up and asking: “Did they get grounded again? Did they get in trouble because of us?”

Ahab sighs, the ignorance of the answers to these questions gnawing at her stomach. Still, wanting to reassure the concerned kids, she gives them a smile that might be a bit too tight.

“I will tell their other mom to lessen the punishment.” She then hands them the promised money. They did not give her the information she wanted, but this was still enough. “Here. You can buy treats together or something.”

The little girl accepts the reward and Ahab walks away before she can thank her. This is enough. For a moment, she considers rallying her crew to storm the mansion and demand answers, but knowing that this undiplomatic approach would only make things worse, Ahab refrains herself and decides to go ask Josephine herself. Instead of following the usual path that circles the hill before climbing up towards the Wuthering Heights mansion, she decides to take the most direct one, walking up the hill, glaring at the Edgar family estate when she walks past it before entering the garden of Wuthering Heights through the left, helped by the lack of fence - and then Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw dare complain about their daughter sneaking out. Ahab keeps on walking quickly between the trees, then she will reach the weeping willow, next to the vegetable garden, then it will be the Butlers’ quarters and finally the main door. Whether Josephine will still be working or not, Ahab has to get these answers.

However, as she arrives near the weeping willow, Ahab slows down slightly, hearing a familiar voice humming a small tune. Ah, true, Catherine might be the only person caring about Ishmael beside Ahab and Heathcliff, though his care seems to be more conditional than she had thought. Maybe she will be more honest than the boy about what happened. Changing her trajectory, Ahab walks towards the willow, but then freezes at the edge of the little woods.

Sitting under the old tree, the young lady seems to be tinkering with a cuckoo-clock, humming a small song Ahab had already heard Ishmael hum before. Her hair is a bit shorter than what the captain remembers, tied back into a ponytail with a white ribbon, seemingly to avoid them getting in the way as she leans over the little clock in her hands. Curled up in a fetal position next to her, hugging her knees to her chest in silence, is Ishmael. Her hair is longer than what Ahab remembers, blazing with an aggressiveness that she did not recognize within her sweet child, falling on both sides of her head and covering, hiding the golden little cogs under cascades of fire. Her gaze follows Catherine’s but only one of her eyes is open, the right one remaining closed. Her expression is gloomy, energyless, yet her hair is like a brazier, brushing against the old trunk and the moss she is sitting on furiously, as if the world itself had hurt it. Ahab’s heart sinks down in a dark pit, seeming to hang out only through a small threat. What had happened to her daughter?

“So, I’m going to start it…” Catherine says calmly, as if trying to engage Ishmael despite her lack of response. “... Tell me if the noise is still here, and which gear makes it.”

The little lady tinkers a bit with the clock, until it suddenly comes to life, the mechanic cuckoo chirping all of a sudden, which startles Ishmael, her hair suddenly combusting and reaching the little lady’s arm.

“Ouch!!” Catherine lets out a small scream, the skin of her forearm getting red with the burn as she reaches it with her other hand, which seems to also be in a rather poor state. Noticing Ishmael glancing at her new injury, Catherine forces a small smile. “Don’t worry, it’s alright. Sorry I startled you like this… So, does it make the noise? Which part?”

Ishmael stares at the red mark blooming on Catherine’s skin for a moment, the furnace of her hair seeming to calm down, yet never quite returning to normal. Then, she glides her gaze down to the still working clock, before pointing at something inside of it.

“The orange one? Alright, let me see…”

Ahab watches the two girls sitting in a silence that only Catherine tries to fill, the shock making her stumble a bit, her knees suddenly weak. What happened to her daughter? Her eye… Her hair… What happened? Was it Hindley’s doing? The reason why he was sent away? Did he gouge her eye out and the only punishment he received was being sent to a boarding school? Did everybody try to hide that from her, hoping she would not notice? A dark nausea rises to Ahab’s throat, as if to strangle her from the inside, as a numbing rage grabs her heart, forcing it to furiously beat into her chest like a roaring beast trying to break the confines of its cage.

Trying to swallow it all down, or at least to avoid showing it to the two girls, Ahab walks out of the woods’ shadows. Catherine straightens up, her eyes widening in surprise as she sees Ahab back so early. She glances down at Ishmael, as if guessing that mother and daughter might want a moment alone, yet she still doesn’t leave, staying close to Ishmael and leaning down despite the menace of getting burned again to whisper something to her. Ishmael tries to straighten up as well and, though she keeps her gaze fixated on the ground, attempts to put on a smile, which wobbles a bit before disappearing as she gives up and rests her chin on her forearm, scratching her skin red.

“... Hello.” Ahab greets, her own voice sounding hollow in her ears as she waves at them slightly.

“Ah, good evening, Captain Ahab.” Catherine says politely, quickly putting on a smile. “You’re… back early.”

“Earlier than the other years, yes.” Ahab answers as she arrives in front of the girls. Noting that the little lady would not leave unless asked to, she sighs and adds: “Would you mind leaving me and my daughter in private for a moment?”

Catherine visibly hesitates, surprising Ahab by not obeying immediately, instead taking a concerned look at Ishmael, then another at Ahab, before slowly getting up and walking away, holding her little clock tightly against her chest, looking above her shoulder several times. Both mother and daughter’s gaze follow her until she disappears from their sight. Ahab notices that the sounds of her steps disappear a bit too quickly after she leaves their field of vision, but she doesn’t have the energy to call her out, even jokingly. Sighing, she changes her priority to her daughter and turns towards her, watching how the fire never goes down, even when it’s just the two of them. Ahab sits down on the green moss, where Catherine was, feeling the aggressive heat from Ishmael’s hair flare up slightly.

“... So, uh… How’re you doing?”

What a fucking dumb question, of course she is not fine.

“... D-did something happen while I was gone…?”

Even worse: of course something happened.

The silence gets heavy on both their shoulders, Ishmael’s scratched skin a worrisome red, now, as she sinks her face into her arms. Her hair doesn’t seem to burn her, that much is a relief at least.

“... Do you want to talk about it?” She tries again. “Or about… anything, really?”

Ishmael remains silent and unmoving once again. Ahab feels within her the desire to shake her awake rising quickly, but then she forces it down as fast as it appeared. It’s her hurt daughter, not an insolent member of her crew defying her authority. And finally, the little girl dares to raise her head again, slowly bringing a trembling hand to her throat, a sign she has often repeated when she refuses to talk.

“Wh- Talk to me!” Ahab insists, putting a hand on Ishmael’s shoulder to try to make her turn towards her, look at her, anything. “I’m your mother for fuck’s sake, you can tell me anythi- Argh!!”

Burned by her daughter’s fiery protection, Ahab quickly pulls out her hand. Her glove shows no sign of burning, but when she takes it off, her skin is already getting as red as Catherine’s earlier. Looking up, she notices Ishmael staring at her with horror, her little body coiled up like a spring, as if she is still hesitating between running away and making herself even smaller, her only visible eye filling with tears as she opens her mouth, yet no sound but a choked sob comes out. Ahab knows that she should discipline her daughter, teach her that she should not bite the hand that feeds her, that is how Josephine would do, after all…

Josephine… For a long time, Ahab had thought of her as a model of parenthood, a mother who knew what she was doing, unlike Ahab, but if she truly did Hindley escape with a small trip to a boarding school while she used the belt when their children retaliated to his neverending bullying…

Ahab doesn’t know what to think anymore. Her heart feels like it’s at war with itself, the mother trying to slit the throat of the lover. She sighs and looks at her daughter, trying to give her a small smile.

“Hey, it’s alright. Sorry I grabbed you like that, I must have scared you.” She whispers, gently extending her other hand to gently cup her cheek, trying to make her meet her eyes. She manages for a moment, despite the burning closeness of Ishmael’s short locks to her hand, and the girl’s eye jumps from Ahab’s left eye to the other, as if uncertain which to stare at. “If you do not feel ready to talk right now, it’s fine. You can come to me and talk about anything at any time, alright?”

Ishmael blinks and nods, then Ahab has to let go of her, the heat getting a bit too much. Maybe her skin has gotten red on her other hand as well. Not caring about it, she gets up, and smiles at her daughter.

“I will be in my room if you’re looking for me, alright? If you want we can also go fishing this evening, it has been a while, after all.”

Ishmael’s eye sparks lightly, and she opens her mouth, seeming ready to speak, but then nothing comes, and she closes it to quickly nod instead.

Ahab waves slightly at her daughter before turning around and walking away, allowing for her smile to fall down. Leaving space to Ishmael is the best way to let her calm down, feel better and find her voice again. Thus, as much as Ahab wishes she could wrap her arms around Ishmael, hold her daughter close, whisper to her that everything will be fine, that she would protect her, avenge her even, she knows this would not have any effect. She failed to protect her, and trying to avenge her would only result in Josephine hunting her down for harming her young master, more precious to her than her own children it seems. Ahab tries to blink back a few tears threatening to spill. Maybe this would be the solution. Killing Josephine, so she could not change herself into someone Ahab would despise even more, so Ahab could conserve the pleasant, happy and loving memories they shared, and clear this version of her partner she is growing to hate so much. Cut clear the lover from the mother. Free their children…

Shaking her head, Ahab then looks at one of the little bushes.

“... I know you’re hidden in there, Miss Catherine.” She grumbles, not being in a good enough mood to remain polite.

At least, the young lady has the decency to not make it difficult as she immediately steps out of her hideout, looking a bit sheepish, probably from having been caught and not out of real guilt.

“... Thank you for being here for Ishmael.” Ahab mutters after a moment of silence, and then starts to walk towards the entrance of the mansion. “You can go back, now. Sorry for separating you.”

“Uhm…” Catherine’s little voice speaks up, prompting Ahab to stop in her tracks and look above her shoulder. “... I-it was Hindley who did it.” It was not really a surprise at this point, but still, Ahab is happy that at least someone cares enough to tell her the truth directly. “Linton came over one afternoon and both him and Hindley started to provoke Heathcliff… He… He seemed ready to fight them, but Ishmael was the first to attack. She threw herself at Linton to defend Heathcliff, b-but…” Her little voice wavers a bit, her breath catching in a sob as she seems to relive the scene herself. “H-Hindley, he… he was standing next to a piece of furniture with one of mother’s expensive vases on it… W-we don’t know what went through his head, but he grabbed it and smashed it on the right side of her head…” A cold shiver runs through Ahab’s body at the revelation, and a similar one seems to rock Catherine’s as she recalls the events, a hiccuping breath interrupting her before she bravely continues: “H-He did it strong enough for the vase to break… I… We think there are a few shards lost into her, now… She cannot quite see with her right eye anymore, a-and…”

“... I see. Thank you for telling me this.” Ahab mumbles when Catherine doesn’t seem able to continue speaking much longer without crying, turning back around, ready to have a talk with her beloved partner.

“For what it’s worth…” Catherine calls out again nonetheless, but Ahab doesn’t turn around this time, simply listening to her voice trembling with what seems to be a mix of anger, disdain and disgust. “I sincerely apologize for what my… For what my brother did to Ishmael…”

“... You do not have to apologize for your brother’s behavior, Miss Catherine.”

Then, Ahab leaves the girls back to their peace to make her way to the mansion. She walks in without even knocking, stepping through the corridors and ignoring the Butlers on her way. She wants to make a scene, to use any of them to take out a bit of her rage before she’d see her partner, to grab one and demand to be led to Josephine, but knows that this would only make things more complicated. Instead, she is stuck storming through the corridors and feeling her frustration climb up to new levels. Where the fuck is a Butler when they are supposed to prepare a dinner with guests?!

Finally, she finds her, near the kitchen, giving one of her underlings instructions. Without missing a beat, Ahab grabs her by the shoulder, making sure that the pressure is enough to show that she is not trying to fool around.

“We need to talk.” She growls between clenched teeth, making Josephine blinks a few times in confusion.

Fortunately, the Butler doesn’t resist too much, simply giving her subordinate a piece of paper before following Ahab to a quiet room, empty of all the ruckus of the Butlers running around like little energetic dogs.

“Ye’re back early.” Josephine notes out loud once they are alone, taking a look at her pocketwatch.

“Yes, I know, I’m back early.” Ahab hisses back, starting to pace around like she does on her deck when lecturing her sailors. The familiar movement brings her a bit of peace of mind, at least, as she tries to gather herself back together before suddenly stopping to turn towards Josephine, glaring at her. “I’m back early to suspicious glances and mumbles on my path, to Nelly and even the Earnshaws suspiciously avoiding the subject of what their brat of a son-”

“Watch yer words about my young master.” Josephine interrupts quickly with a frown.

“I CAME BACK TO MY HURT DAUGHTER AND MY SON NOT DARING TO TELL ME ABOUT IT!!!”

The silence in the room resonates between them after Ahab’s explosion. The two women glaring at each other, and for a moment, Ahab would be tempted to act on her earlier musings, to keep only the loving memory of the woman she came to consider as her almost-wife, until Josephine lets out a sigh, her shoulders slumping down suddenly as she takes off the mask of the Wuthering Heights Chief Butler.

“I understand how ye feel Ahab, bu-”

“Do you, really?! Because your actions would make anyone believe the opposite!” Ahab steps forward until she is practically nose-to-nose with Josephine to hiss at her face. “Why didn’t you protect our daughter? There’s a reason why I am supposed to leave every summer with peace of mind: I entrusted her to you. And you couldn’t be bothered to take care of her properly.”

“... Bold of ye to say that when ye’re not even ‘round ‘ere for a third o’ the year.” Josephine growls back, her expression scrunched up in anger.

“Oh don’t you bring that up again! You know why I do that, we talked about it thousands of times already!” Ahab starts pacing around again, throwing her arms up at the ceiling. “How about we talk about your fucking failure, for once?!”

“Failure?!” Josephine chokes out, visibly outraged. At least that word is guaranteed to make her react.

“Yes! That you were unable to protect our daughter, I can understand, but that you let the boy being sent to a fucking boarding school and did not ask for a more severe punishment is fucking lunacy!! You can’t even avenge your daughter when times call for it!”

“Oh, o’ course it’s about vengeance! Everything’s always about vengeance with ye!”

“Better than letting this little brat get away with it!!”

“Hey-”

“We BOTH know that if Ishmael or Heathcliff had hurt him half as bad, or even less, they would have gotten the belt!!” Ahab roars at Josephine to shut her up. “Worse yet, they would’ve been thrown outside for another evening and once they’d been let back in, not allowed to eat before being sent to bed! You know that because YOU did it!!”

“Yes, because at least I am trying to raise these children!” Josephine suddenly snaps back, taking a step towards Ahab, her dark eyes filled with anger.

“You?!”

“Me!! Ye’re NEVER here to take care of ‘em like they need to be! Havin’ fun, sure, but when it comes to actually educatin’ ‘em ain’t nobody left, innit?!”

“Are you f- I AM LITERALLY HERE EVERYTIME YOU’RE NOT!! I only work in summer, you work all year long and never take a day off to see your own goddamn children!! You give them a few minutes to punish them when they fight back against that fucking brat and that’s all! I am present for them more times than you are!”

“No, ye’re not!! I’m sure even yer drinking buddies’ve seen ye more times a year yer kids have at one point! I’m basically taking care of ‘em myself while I’m also the one workin’ the most ‘cause ye can’t be bothered to be a mother!!”

“As if you’re any better! You would not even take a break from your job if your daughter comes to you for help!! You’re even worse than I am!”

…

From the corridor, a little child looks at the two women nearly at each other’s throat. Heathcliff remains silent as he slowly closes the door, making sure not to let it make too much noise. He silently backs up, until hitting something behind him. Startled, he quickly whips around, only to calm down when he realizes it’s Nelly. The young woman stares at the door behind which his mothers are fighting for a moment before she directs her gaze to him. Heathcliff looks down, his cheeks burning in shame and anger at being pitied, but he doesn’t have the energy to fight, especially not when it might attract his mothers’ attention.

“... If they are still unavailable by dinner time…” Nelly starts, gently ruffling his already messy hair. “... Don’t hesitate to come to me with Ishmael, alright? I’ll make you some food.”

Heathcliff nods, not daring to look up, not wanting to see the pity in her eyes. He then turns around and leaves, feeling her eyes on him like a burden. He wants to scream at her to look away, or run away himself, but he is so tired… He’s pretty sure that if he had gears like his sister, his would be turning slowly, too. Sighing, he decides that he should join Ishmael and Catherine in the garden. With them, at least, he will be able to be at peace.

—

It had been a long time since the last time she was able to pick up a new book. The ones at the mansion started to get old and uninteresting, but getting out had been a struggle. In every slightly quick movement, even if it was not toward her right side, she started seeing Hindley, and it made her hair burn even brighter, the pain even more vivid. In this condition, she hardly allows herself to see other people, even less people she likes. She would hate to unwillingly hurt her friends, none of them deserve that. Thus, she stayed inside for a long time. It even got worse during the Christmas period, when the knowledge of Hindley’s presence in the mansion loomed over Ishmael, preventing her from even daring to leave her room for anything else than bare necessities. Apparently, he even tried to enter the Butlers’ quarters once, Heathcliff having to wrestle him out, succeeding only thanks to Nelly’s unexpected help.

Since she heard about this incident, Ishmael’s paranoia only got worse: every step she heard in the corridor, every door closing a bit too close to her room, even her own door opening made her freeze and listen, ready to flee or fight for her life if need be, even a month after she was told Hindley had left. It took her a long time to manage to set foot back in town, with Heathcliff’s encouragement. The original plan was to go join Matthew and the others, to tell them all about what had happened and how Ishmael could hardly bring herself to leave her room - though, Heathcliff could have gone without her at any time - but with the suddenly increasing weight of exhaustion that had been crushing Ishmael since the morning and compressed her throat into silence, they had decided that Heathcliff would go to see Matthew and everyone else to explain what had happened to them, meanwhile Ishmael could return to one of her favorite places in Edinburgh: the library.

The librarian, a woman younger than their mothers, with a rather large figure and a welcoming face, had always been nice to Ishmael, and mostly left her at peace, probably interpreting her lack of words for shyness. Ishmael did not mind her, at least. Thus, she was able to get inside with only nervousness, and even somewhat relaxed when she realized she almost had the entire library for herself. She picked a book - one about different whales and their anatomy - and went to sit down in a corner, hidden between a shelf and an armchair, to read a bit. Tiredness caught her after a bit, that is probably why after she finishes blinking there is a girl sitting in front of her all of a sudden. Well, not exactly in front of her, but she is sitting on the floor, cross-legged, her back leaning against the shelf, focused on what seems to be a book of Arthurian legends as a large English-Spanish dictionary is laying on the floor next to her.

Trying not to mind the girl reading out loud in accented English, Ishmael sighs softly and looks back at her book. She doesn’t remember reaching this page before falling asleep, but she already knows most of the facts, either from reading or from her Mom’s endless ramblings about whales. Trying to plunge back into the sea of information, Ishmael is startled back into the real world by the other girl’s voice. Looking back at her, she seems to have arrived at a particularly exciting part of her book, but Ishmael can’t quite bring herself to care when she continuously ruins her efforts with a voice that Ishmael grows to absolutely hate in a mater of seconds, her hair blazing up in annoyance.

Quickly, this annoyance spreads to the girl’s face - how dare she have such an enthusiastic expression when she keeps ruining Ishmael’s quiet? - her sparkling golden eyes jumping from sentence to sentence while Ishmael’s only eye can barely focus on one thing, her short, blonde, regular hair, her loud voice - too loud.

Should she hiss? She wants to hiss, to scare her into shutting up like she did to so many other annoying kids before, but she remembers how mad her Ma gets every time she hears that Ishmael has hissed at someone. What then? Tell her directly to shut up? She cannot bring herself to speak, even when she opens her mouth. Should she just punch her in the face like she did to other kids?

She refocuses her vision on the girl, who is now staring at her in silence, eyes wide with what seems to be a mix of surprise, confusion and a bit of… concern? The slight tremor of her own throat catches her attention, and she immediately tries to pass it off as an awkward cough, her fist coming to cover her mouth as she averts her gaze.

“... My apologies…” The girl mumbles softly, hesitantly returning to her book, but this time remaining effectively silent.

Ishmael hesitates a bit, a cold shiver running down her spine. If her Ma finds out about this… Well, it’s not like she has eyes here too, right? But if someone she knows saw this…

Gulping down, unable to focus back on her book, to stop paying attention to the girl or to distract herself from the sudden weight in her stomach, Ishmael slowly gets up, her articulations feeling like they have suddenly gotten replaced with rusty cogs, too, and walks back to the shelf on which the book she was reading was. She is pretty sure she can feel the girl’s look piercing her back, but doesn’t dare to turn away to actually confront her. Instead, she flees from the scene as fast as possible, taking a big breath in once outside, letting the world stop spinning around her so hard. The cool air helps her clear her mind a bit, and she blinks a few times. Going to see her friends is still out of the picture, for now. Taking in another deep breath, she decides that she should walk back home, trying to give herself the necessary energy by focusing on the prospect of her hammock and a long - hopefully peaceful this time - sleep.