There's a prompt challenge going on my Tumblr. Drop me an ask and if your prompt seduces me enough I'll fill it. ;)
Some of those prompts will be cross posted here. This is one of them.
"I am surely a creature. For what human has two hearts? But I have two hearts— one is always broken; the other is always whole."
― C. JoyBell C.
SEA
Her father was a fisherman.
Before him, her grandfather was also a fisherman.
She had been raised on boats, skin dark from the sun and the sea, hands rough from fishing nets and learning how to sail.
Her father was a quiet man, in peace with the life he led, days out at the sea as her mother waited by the docks, always a young pup on her hip; the others big enough to walk on their own, sneaking around town to bring home some change, some food.
She was the first to go out with him, because she was stubborn and brave and she was the oldest; she earned it. Her mother allowed it because it kept her out of trouble, out of petty fights with boys twice her size.
She was 15 when a pirate boat rested at her dock.
She heard their laughs, the bags of money clicking when they entered the bars to brag and drink and fight.
She left with them, promising she'd come back to visit.
-.-.-
There were unnamable things out there.
She heard the stories of beasts and magic and danger, but it took her four years to witness first hand.
They had been sailing for months, and there was nothing but water. The men didn't like it, not at all – it was too quiet, too broad.
The air was heavy and still, not a breeze to ease the sweat on their backs. The hairs on the back of her neck shot up, and her mouth felt dry.
She spotted it first – the dark green, slick back of a sea monster, teasing the water surface, circling the boat. The men moved in sync to their positions; where there was one, there would be several.
She went down to the gun deck, on her own, and took one of the cannons out. She waited for the first strike.
The creature threw its heavy body against the ship once, then twice. It raised its long neck, sticking out of the water – she jumped on it, blade in hand, and blinded the creature.
It made a deep screeching sound, thick blood pouring out of its eyeballs, and reached blindly for her, teeth sinking on her side.
She screamed, and it was the captain's strong hand that saved her from submerging into water and certain death.
The scar never really went away.
-.-.-
She comes back to visit.
Her mother looks older, hair starting to go grey and hands growing thinner and thinner. Two of her brothers are fisherman, one of them already with a pregnant wife.
Her father has died on a storm, a few months ago.
It's the life on the docks; she accepts the news with a single tear. He went back to the sea, where he belonged.
She gives her mother a heavy bag of gold, telling her to hide it from everyone. Save it. She doesn't want the house to get robbed, the envious look of neighbors.
She doesn't want her family to go hungry. She still has brothers as young as 10, too young to real work, and she doesn't need to look at her mother's tired eyes to know the struggle of being a widow in those parts.
-.-.-
She becomes Quartermaster.
She's commanding and fair; the crew respects her. The captain talks to her like an equal.
Her first mermaid becomes a rush of panic.
The captain yells orders and she goes with the first mate to tie him to the ship's wheel – the ships comes first, it can't be led to the rocks – and they all hide deep within the ship.
The captain is exhausted when it's over, skin bruised by straining against the knots, trying to set himself free and follow the mystic chants of mermaids.
He doesn't leave his cabin for two whole weeks, depressed.
She wonders what they could have sang to him, how it felt to be taken.
They're right when they say a man can never really be himself after meeting a cursed creature.
She's made captain in a unanimous decision – her captain was brave and strong, but he has lost his heart to a mermaid and he's just not the same.
They're low on gold, low on food, low on morale.
Even the most experienced ones trust her. They look at her expecting the change, the fire in her chest, and she accepts the decision.
She steers the boat that day with pride, black hair flying with the wind, towards their next assault.
-.-.-
She takes no prisoner.
You either die or surrender all your valuables.
It works wonders for them – her name spreads like wildfire, a trembling whisper on men's lips. She enjoys it, drinks their fear when she jumps on their decks, always aiming for the captain.
There are tales about her.
She wonders briefly before she slashes a man's throat if her family knows, if her mother has heard about any of this.
-.-.-
Her time comes soon enough.
The land they're in is filled with riches – and equal amounts of magic and danger.
She sees the beautiful, bare-breasted creatures from a distance, and it's her time to sacrifice for her crew.
Her First Mate looks at her with sad eyes, swift hands tying her up. She looks at this strong woman and nods, reassuring.
It's the most powerful pull she has ever felt – sweet notes mangling with each other, caressing her skin like the gentlest lover, calling her towards their warmth.
The wheel feels heavy on her hands as she turns the ship away from the shore, from the hidden rocks ready to pierce through the wood, when all she wants is to surrender to the song and let it possess her heart.
The mermaid looks incredibly human, blonde hair falling on her shoulders long and lustful, bare white skin begging to be explored, soft and warm.
Maybe she can survive, lose herself to a mermaid and return to her life, waiting for a next encounter.
The mermaid comes closer, lips pink and eyes attentive like a fox, aware of everything, wishing for her, singing only for her—
She breaks free of her ropes and whimpers in relief, her skin crawling with desire. The ship is safe; she has done her bidding, earned the right to surrender to beauty and love.
Her clothes cling to her skin when she gets into the water, dragging her down. But she's a swimmer, taking off her boots and moving in long strides towards the mermaid.
You're the most beautiful thing, she hears the mermaid whispering in her mind.
She nods, looking at that beautiful face – beautiful like a fairytale, soothing as a mother's breast – and its long lines, blue eyes shimmering with delight.
The creature reaches out for her, cupping her face. It doesn't feel cold like the stories, but wonderfully warm. The most exquisite meal.
She's not afraid – she's never been at peace before this moment, her life a hurried scramble – and so she shakes her head. Not a meal, she answers, hands resting on the creature's shoulders.
It seems surprised by the gesture, eyes flickering dangerous before once more peaceful. You're shivering, human.
She grins small. The sea is a cold place, mermaid.
It hums her siren song in the back of her throat, and the entire universe feels warm. The creature smiles, her teeth sharper than a person's, and she's very much willing to be taken.
She pulls the mermaid closer and a spark of light flies between them. Her legs move slowly, just keeping her in place, following the same beat as the creature's tail. I feel I know you.
She sighs when she's enveloped in an embrace. She hangs on tight, hiding her face in the creature's neck. Maybe in another life.
She's released without another word.
Her crew rescues her, shocked to see her in one piece.
-.-.-
She doesn't crumble like the previous captain.
She's too strong to bend. She's firm and rough, and she still has the same steel fist in battle.
Her chest feels heavy, however; she's waiting patiently. She doesn't dream anymore, a heavy dark rest taking place.
She scans the seas for her, but it's useless.
-.-.-
She's the most respected pirate of her time.
Men bow when she enters a room. She gets free drinks and free women, because she's the only one to have ever faced a mermaid and lived to tell the tale.
She's going down in history.
-.-.-
She's several years older, her skin coarse and burnt from the sun, when they meet again.
The terror in the crew's eyes is deep and unyielding. They all hide, leaving her to tend after the ship, surrounded by the sea-people.
She makes sure it's safe, that her people are safe – they're her everything, her home – before she finally surrenders, jumping into the cold water eagerly.
You've come back, she tells the mermaid, reaching for her.
The creature grabs her elbows, supporting her weight. It's still singing, a warm embrace of sound surrounding every inch of her body.
The knots in her chest come undone, and she can breathe again. She holds the creature's face, thankful, wishful. Can't you take me with you?
It sighs, resting its face on her hands. It's so delicate, eyes closing when her thumbs stroke its jaw. I've been searching for a way, human.
Santana, she says, hand diving into blonde hair, silk to touch. My name is Santana.
I'm Brittany, the mermaid answers, smiling for the second time. You have to give me your heart.
It's yours. She answers quietly, and the water becomes restless. The mermaid reads her fear before enveloping her in a safe embrace – no harm can come to the sea-people, she knows, but she doesn't understand.
The clouds turn darker and heavier, and it feels like the very bottom of the Earth is moving in a new direction. The mermaid – Brittany – takes them under, and she wonders if this is it, this is her final encounter with Death, drowning in the dark bottom of the ocean.
She's ready for it, but it doesn't come.
The sirens surround her, dozens of them, touching her body, her hair, her face, and her chest splits open – she loses her human heart without a trace of pain, with no suffering at all – and Brittany holds her in her arms gently.
Welcome, they chant, a circle of ritual around her as she loses conscience.