Disclaimer: I only own my own characters in this story, so that means anything that isn't original belongs solely to Disney
Warning: This is a warning. I have decided for the purposes of my story to kill of Elizabeth. If you don't like it no one will force you to read. However all flames will be used to cook food on my barbecue this summer.
Prologue
A woman stood on the deck of the Flying Dutchman. Unusually the inky sky was clear, and the stars glittered like tiny diamonds, too numerous to count. The full moon shone heavy in the sky, a bright beacon of hope for everyone. But not for her. Instead it brought her dreams and needs, things that had nothing to do with the human side of her. This was her other side, the side that belonged wholly to the sea.
She could hear them calling, singing for their lost princess. They knew she was dead, and so they sang, searching for her foretold daughter. The song they sang for her was a lament, of she who was so cruelly enslaved. They implored their princess to sing to them, to tell them that she was safe, a promise that she would be coming back to them, anything.
The song rang on, loudly across the world, every single one of them searching and listening for an answer. The same as before, and every moonlight night, their song ran on. It told of how the princess was kidnapped and locked away in a tower, not allowed to sing or even speak the true language of her people, for fear that it would alert them to her presence, and they would rescue her from her prison, and carry her to the freedom and wealth that awaited her in the palace far beneath the sea.
This song then ended and the lament for the long lost goddess of the sea, Calypso began. They wanted their mistress back almost as much as their princess. She was the true mistress of the seas, not the men who now sailed it. As of old they should have to beg a boon of the tempestuous goddess for permission to sail her seas, or be killed mercilessly in storms of her making.
These songs kept the young woman staring transfixed at the night sky. How she longed for the one thing that would connect her to her people. Her skin, it was hers by inheritance. It was being held from her. She was one of the legendary seal people, who could shed their skins and become human at will. However if the skin was stolen the seal person would be doomed to spend an eternity looking for their skin.
The images came again to the woman unbidden. She could almost feel the cool water surround her body as she darted in and out of ocean spray. She felt what it was to be one of her brethren, feeling what her mother must have felt, and yet she had never known the freedom of willingly changing her own form. The burning pain that came from the separation from the skin burned again in her fingertips, and she keened in that language known only to her.
The others answered her, and slowly, hesitantly she joined in the song. Long ago had she last sung, last joined in, telling them of her travails. It had been forbidden. But the longing in her was too strong, the blood singing through her veins was flowing with the silvery light of the moon, and her heartbeat was the slow beating of the waves. She was one with the sea, she was its child and it ran in her veins. It called to her.
She was discovered, and she was whipped as the sun rose, turning the ocean to a dusky pink. However to the woman it brought only desolation and loss, the ending of the song as humans woke. The seals was a magical song, and any human who heard one sing in their own true tongue would be bound, entranced by that magical song, looking forever for the one who sang it.
Even to hear the Selkies sing was to become entranced, they could make you feel through song. But it was not only the singing that they were famous for. Their legendary dances were said to be matchless among the mortals. Many men had been lured to their deaths simply looking for one of the seal creatures, if they had seen them dance, in human form, then they were entranced. Sometimes these entirely fey creatures would take pity on those humans enamoured by them, and take them to the depths of the ocean, to their palace, where they could dance and sing to their hearts content.
Crystalline tears poured out of the woman's eyes as she watched the sunrise. She did not feel the injustice of being whipped, although she did feel the pain. However she was collected enough not to cry out. She cried simply because the beautiful song had ended, and the sadness that came with the knowledge that she must always listen to that song, and never take part in it, as she was meant to.
Finally they took her to Davy Jones, where he sat at his organ, playing. When he finished her turned to her, and began to lecture her. It was the same empty threats as all the other times. This time however it was different. The next time she was caught trying to call to her family she would be killed, and forced to be part of Davy Jones' cursed crew for eternity.
All of this barely caught the woman's attention. Instead she watched as a silvery skin was held up in front of her as Davy Jones played with it. As he slipped it through his hands it called to the woman, to take it, become what she was meant to be and dive off into the deeps. This was the longing of the young woman, that skin holding her transfixed.
Not until she was out under the burning sun, her wounds having been tended to, did her eyes begin to loose the silvery glaze that had appeared since the first light of the full moon had touched the woman's raven tresses. Beneath the haze were clear eyes that looked a dull green, and yet contained hues of blues and browns hidden deep within their depths.
"Naida," one of the crew called.
"Bill," Naida answered.
"How are you?" the older man asked.
"Very well considering…" Naida trailed off.
"Its getting worse as you get older, you can tell."
"No Bill, the longing is getting worse, and that is harder to bear. Knowing the skin is so close, and yet not being able to touch it is a form of insanity. I do not know how long it is since I have touched land, and that is what is so painful about it, on land I can be human, but I must sail the sea sometimes. But to sail it, condemned to be in human form forever is a kind of curse for me, I cannot bear it."
As she spoke her final words the tragic young woman gazed out to sea with her eyes, looking for an end to the mass which stretched onto the horizon. Although there wasn't one, there never would be one, not for her, no port in which to weather the storm of her longing. If she died it would only further Jones' plan, as she was the last of her line, her sister had inherited her father's blood.
Author's note: Please read the warning, it is incredibly important. As I said, I would appreciate reviews, although I do not like flames, I will use them on my barbecue this summer. To make a point, this is my story, and I can have what I want happening in it. This is also a present to me, so I would appreciate if you did not flame. All I can do is to hope you enjoy.