How could they have a child?
He had often wondered that. The two were hardly an affectionate couple, at least when in front of the crew. He knew they loved one another, as they often shared a certain glance that, if you looked at them closely, revealed a deep, unfathomable history of pain that led to love. And he had seen them sneak a kiss, exchange some sort of physical gesture of affection. He knew they reserved passionate shows of love for when they were alone. The child was proof of that, and sometimes a sluggish morning formation hinted at the captain and his wife's nighttime activities.
But how?
He knew very well that true love did not look at outward appearances. But how could either truly enjoy the other? How could the girl look past the monstrous appearance of the captain? The curse had rendered him with tentacles growing from his jaws, skin like an eel, a crab leg and claw and a malformed, squid-like hand. How could she bear his caresses? Indeed, he didn't doubt that she loved her husband…but surely she did not relish the intimacy they shared…did she?
And how could the captain truly enjoy lavishing love on this girl? She was hardly a beauty. Her boyish form, hard muscled but shapeless, no true sign of bust or hips to please a husband with, her almost mannish facial features, her lank hair, though a pleasant Nordic blonde. Aye, her eyes were dazzling in their spirit and color…but she was what one would call 'ugly.' Yet the captain had fathered a child on her. And they had not simply done this to continue their line. He indeed loved her. But could he bear to hold that slip of a girl, hardly of a girl's form, in his arms when he had the memory of a true woman's embrace?
How could they each enjoy the other? And he knew they did. The girl willingly entered the passionate embraces of a man trapped within a monstrous form, while the man joyfully took to his body this girl of unfortunate features and form.
How could this be?
Then he saw them sitting together near the bow. Their hands were clasped, quite discreetly. But he noted how the elongated forefinger of the captain's hand wrapped about the sinewy forearm of the girl, softly stroking it. How could such affection be doubted?
Then they kissed, briefly but genuinely. He had seen others kiss before. But never had a kiss looked so…right. So natural. So appropriate.
Then he knew. In the eyes of love, there is no ugliness. The girl found her husband's form to be as handsome as any charming prince. And the captain found his wife's form as pleasing to him as any goddess.
And as he sat watching them, the light of love in their faces made them both beautiful…even in his eyes, which were the eyes of an outsider.