Legs. If only she had them, she could follow him. She would run, chase him over the land. Throw her arms around him, only to tell him who she was. If only she had legs, maybe he wouldn't try to kill her every time she caught his eye. For after all, mermaids were dangerous creatures, and no one, not even the love of her life, could believe she wasn't like the rest of them.
Once, the red haired beauty had been so lucky to have legs, though it had only been a curse. Flushed up ashore, lungs filled with water, the sixteen year old had been frightened to death. It was nothing like she had thought it would be, but as the man who had fulfilled her dream had said, all magic comes with a price; she had started to realize the truth. She could never be what she was not.
It had been more than 300 years since he had found her on that beach, nearly dead, bringing her onto his ship, nursing her back to health. She hadn't been able to speak back then, her mesmerizing voice had been the price she would have to pay, to get her legs. However, the young Captain who had helped her hadn't seemed to care about that. The way her green-blue eyes met his blue was more than enough for the both of them. It was real, it would've been, if it weren't for the way he broke the curse by kissing her, on her fifth day with legs. If it weren't for the way she had started to feel unbearably dehydrated, and forced to dive into the oh so deep water, feeling her legs disappear behind her, and turn into that despicable fin of hers, her only true curse. And throughout the years, Ariel had learned that nothing, not even true love's kiss, could break that curse.
The girl had always hated the way she could sing, not because it wasn't beautiful, no, it was one of the most beautiful sounds in her world. But most beautiful things where she lived were also very deceptive. The worst part about it wasn't the way it hypnotized men and brought them into her trap, the worst part was how it changed her aswell. It turned her into something she had no intention of being. Somewhat of a bloodthirsty monster, a beautiful bloodthirsty monster. So she hadn't used her voice in a long time. But that one sunny day in June, when she had imagined seeing him from afar, the man she had once loved, she could not help it but to sing. To make them come closer, to see if it really was him. If he was still alive after all those centuries. She had quit singing before they had gotten too close, but it was impossible for her not to see who it was, sailing his ship.
He had changed. The boy she had once loved, the man she still believed she did love, was all grown up. Many years older, approximately 300 years older, but he only looked about 10 years older. The deep blue eyes hadn't changed, except for the emptiness she imagined herself seeing in them. He looked handsome, yet somewhat bewildered with the, to her, new facial hair of his. The biggest change was obvious, inevitable. It made her curious, a bit sad and even more confused. His left hand had for some reason been replaced with a hook. But it was him, without doubt. The man she hadn't seen for what seemed like forever. The man she could never let go. Killian Jones.
So it had become a habit of hers, since that day, singing the Jolly Roger closer and closer to herself, only to watch him smile, to watch him fight and to watch him live. Of course she always stopped, before it was too late for her to do so. But it was quite an obsession, and it was quite the prophesy that she would take it too far one day - unaware of the actual pain she could cause. At first, it was all because of him. Because of the way she loved watching him, because of the way she loved him. She wanted to see him up close, she wanted him closer, maybe so that she could touch him. But because of how she changed, it turned into something else. She wanted the ship closer, all those men, because of the thirst, and the sudden anger, that appeared inside of her. As the creature realized what she was doing, and brought herself to stop doing so, it was very much too late. Because as she stopped, the many men enchanted by her voice and beauty, snapped out of it and found her, a dangerous mermaid, on their ship. She would've ran, if she only had legs. But she was much too slow for that, trying to pull herself down into the water.
A sweltering pain stuck the girl, and as she turned around to find a sword piercing her fin, she also met the deep blue eyes of the only person she had ever loved. It was rather well-known that mermaids were incapable of love. She knew that couldn't be true. She knew what love was, and she was one of them. She was capable of it. She knew it because of the pain, not only the physical one, that struck her looking into his eyes. Being determined, the girl knew what she had to do, ripping herself free from the sword she slid into the water, which quickly turned blood-red. And so she decided that she wouldn't sing again. Not because of the danger it had put her in, but because of the danger it had put him in, and because of the monster he had seen when he had looked at her, not hesitating a moment to try to kill her. Because of the dangerous and deceptive ocean she turned into, as she tried bringing herself to love, like the humans did.