A/N: I haven't written in over a year and a half. So, after getting together with some writing friends, we all challenged ourselves to write something over 1k words in the next few weeks. I thought a CS One-Shot would be the perfect opportunity for such a thing. To kick start my adventure, I went to a random line generator online and was presented with this line to start off the one-shot: There was a legend about the well in the garden.
This set me off on one of my favorite things to do for writing: researching. I researched myths about wells, and let me tell you, I had a ton of ideas coming out of that. I chose to write this fic based off of a well in a village in Suffolk. It was said there was a story surrounding the well about a mermaid trapped inside who would drown any children who touched the water's surface. This story was said to keep the village's children from playing too close to the well. I thought I would twist the story around a bit to add in our favorite couple.
Without further ado, enjoy! :) Hey, I have a ton of fodder for more one-shots based off of wells if this intrigues enough people.
There was a legend about the well in the garden. A tale so harrowing in form no one had dared venture into its confines for hundreds of years. It was said a mermaid haunted the misty waters of the well, her lilting voice calling for passersby to save her from her cramped dungeon. Gallant knights, fearsome rulers, and the bravest of all men alike had ventured within the borders of the garden's edge. Her voice beckoned them directly into her deadly path. It is said their bones lie at the bottom of the well to this day, their pleading voices cut off by the melody of their murderer.
The myth grew in size as the victims piled up. Even the bravest of men began to admit not even they could resist the mermaid's tune. For years, the garden grew unkempt, vines and greenery creating a thick barrier as a safety net for those passing the wayward garden. It was as if the very atmosphere emitted a cautionary message to the world of mankind. But some warnings are ignored no matter the cost.
Tacked to the door of a pub in the nearest village was a parchment declaring such a threat. The wraith-like drawing and large, bolded words declared a sincere message of the well's danger to locals and newcomers alike. But to Killian Jones, the discouragement wasn't severe enough. For how could the captain of the famous Jolly Roger who had spent years growing an immunity to the call of sirens be tempted by this creature? Attempting to bypass the garden to make his intended journey longer than he planned for was inexcusable. In quests for revenge, time was of the essence. Another lead had taken up residence not too far from this village. Though they had brought him no where thus far, he could not bear to miss out on an opportunity should it be truth.
As the last swig of rum snaked it way down his throat, he glanced at the warning once more. Trepidation dared not enter his mind.
"Aye, 'at be a dangerous place."
Killian turned his sights to the bar wench towering over his table. Her slender and slightly calloused fingers worked a rag around the inside of a grimy mug.
"Me mum forbid us t' even glance in its direction," she delicately tossed her head to the side, tawny curls bouncing across her bare shoulder. "I 'ave no interest in layin' in the bottom of a well."
He lifted an eyebrow, pushing his empty mug away from himself. "Perhaps this creature isn't as fearsome as myth suggests. I've seen plenty of sirens in the open seas and none, so far, have lured me to my death."
The girl shifted her hips. She dipped her chin and shook her head. "You be a crazy fellow. Myths come from somewhere and you'd be wise t' listen t' their warnin's."
Killian chuckled and stood, rummaging in his jacket's pocket. "For you," bowing, he held up three golden coins between his bejeweled fingers. "My dear warning bell."
Snatching them from his grasp, she sauntered away with a final toss of her curls. He made his way out of the hubbub of the crowded interior. Killian relished the twilight for whisking away the smoke and stench from inside. On a regular evening under the stars, he might be holding up his right-hand man, Mr. Smee, from his drunken stupor as they clodded towards their ship. Or perhaps he would be steering his ship with skilled precision through the dark glass of the sea's moonlit reflection with his crew ambling around the deck. Tonight, however, he was alone. Such quests called for solitude, much to his crew's chagrin.
The town faded into the fog's shield of invisibility. Crickets sang, creating a chorus of peace and tranquility. Faeries flitted every so often in the distance, leaving trails of light in their effortless wake. Killian trudged forward, his hook resting next to the hilt of his sword. He never completely trusted supposed solitude on land as he did in the water. He always expected someone, or something, to jump out from the shadows, daring him to challenge it. He was always ready. There was only one time he could count being bested.
The edge of a long forest lay in front of him, but he had already planned to cut straight through. Traveling around would only cause him a delay he could not afford. He lifted his boots higher, managing to maneuver through the unpredictable nature of the forest's floor. As time lingered on, the trees began to blend together, twigs and branches pulling at his long coat, begging him to slow his gait. Frustration began to boil inside him. He pulled out his sword and began hacking at the thick foliage.
A shiver ran down his back, warmth sparking in his head and dripping with grace down his spine until his body was overflowing with it. A note of the most beautiful sound Killian had ever heard rang through his mind and reverberated through his inner being. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyelids drooping with an unexplainable heaviness and lips parted slightly. The solitary melody pulled at his core, begging him to follow its path. It gave off a sense of urgency and desperation, masked brilliantly with beauty and grace.
Killian turned his sword towards the sound, continuing to cut through his overgrown surroundings. It was clear no one had been here in years. The vegetation was thick and unyielding. Yet the voice calling him gave strength to his bones. He left a path of greens and thorns behind him as flowers began to emerge beneath. The tune grew in volume, pulling him in.
With a final swing, Killian stumbled forward. Grass heavy with dew brushed against his leathery boots. He slowly sheathed his sword. Tendrils of vines brimming with buds of every hue brushed against the top of his dark head. An effervescent glow rippled around the circular interior, originating from the well. It sat in the center of the area, illuminated by an unearthly light. A melody of the purest tone pulsated across its worn, mossy stones.
One foot in front of the other, he made his way closer. The edge of the well reached out to him, almost grabbing his hand violently and pulling him in. Mist rolled over its timeworn sides, flowing into a thick blanket for the ground.
He gaped over the edge. A pair of eyes peered up at him, reminding him of the many viridescent waters he had traversed in his life. The creature's aura radiated an innocent glow. Water lapped against her delicate chin, blonde hair glistening in a flowering curtain around her. She was mystifying, enchanting Killian to his very core. His heart began to slowly come alive. It beat in time with the lilting chorus she was playing in his mind.
Come closer.
Though her lips did not part, her words waltzed in his mind, dancing to the rhythmic sway of her song. He leaned forward, hand reaching towards the water. As his fingertips brushed the thin layer of air covering the water, he paused. The mermaid titled her head, bobbing closer to him.
Take my hand. She lifted a palm, slender fingers reaching towards his outstretched hand.
He hesitated. Her eyes bore into him, filling him with another round of inviting warmth. Splaying his fingers, he reached towards her hand once more.
The melody cut short, leaving Killian dazed. Blinking his eyes in rapid succession, the glow from the creature changed. No longer did it radiate a warm, inviting brilliance. A cold, dark mist had taken over. She had contorted her delicate features into one full of wrath and hatred. Her arm shot out, fingers curling around the skull and dagger necklace he wore around his neck.
The back of the chain pulled taught against his collar, jerking his head forward. She pulled her leering face next to his. With her breath icy as the untamed sea rolling across his lips, Killian shivered in her clutch. Her features softened once more, taking him by surprise. He was reminded of why he had fallen into her trap to begin with.
Why are you not afraid?
The words were riddled with genuine curiosity. They haunted his mind. The legends should have been a warning to him, but he ignored them. Hadn't the bar maiden insisted he listen to the warning's the myth produced? What of the bones that seemed to reach out to him even now? They cried for him to retreat while he had a slim chance.
Yet his body would not slip away from her grasp. It was her eyes that held him there unafraid. Beneath the enchanting emerald glaze was a desperation Killian had seen before. One that had led him to this very moment. Once upon a time that same agony in the eyes of another woman had pulled him into the best days of his life. He had remedied that pain she had held deep, that want for more, only to have it cruelly taken away. But now he recognized it once again and it hurt like a deep wound.
His heart squeezed, pumping pain through his veins. It reached from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. This was why he was unafraid, for he knew her desire of freedom all too well.
The grip on his necklace loosened, allowing him room to breathe easier. She lowered herself into the water, eyes never leaving his gaze.
I see your heart, Captain. You know my pain.
"How can I take it from you?" his words, though barely whispered, were uttered in extreme earnestness.
Break my curse. I want nothing more than to walk on dry land and feel the sunshine on my face once again.
"But how can I do that?"
She tilted her head to the side, a smile starting from the corners of her mouth. I don't know if you can. You are different than the other men who have wandered here. No matter how my darkened soul longed to pull you into the depths of this pool, I could not. There's something different about your heart. My curse did not come with instructions on breaking it, but I once heard that all curses can be broken. Do you believe this to be true, Captain?
He needed not to hesitate and think for he knew beyond a doubt his answer. "Yes."
Maybe someone can tame this ferocious beast after all.
Killian chuckled. "Does this ferocious beast have a name?"
She dipped her chin towards the water, a smile lighting up her face. "Emma."
There was a legend about the well in the garden. A tale so beautiful in nature, people spoke of it's inception for hundreds of years. It was said there was a man who ignored the warnings of a myth. He walked fearlessly into the path of a dangerous mermaid caged inside this well. Though drawn in by her luring call, it is said fate intervened. The man was spared from her cruel curse because of his good heart. People speak of the endless days he would visit her and the lands he would travel far and wide to in order to find what could break her curse. But in the end it was a simple kiss that lifted her bane.
True love's kiss, is what they say, was only the beginning of their timeless romance.