A SECOND CHANCE
Extended Summary: Born in a time where your future was mapped out for you, Astoria Cane assumed she had no need to worry for the future hold. She was to get married, have a couple of kids, and take care of the home. After all, that was what was normally expected of a woman in 1892. It's only when she finally meets the man she was arranged to marry, that Astoria is introduced to the true horrors of humanity. She suffered for far too long under his hand, till one day he snapped, and Astoria found herself a child of the oceans. Awoken as a Rusalka, a cursed mermaid, she slips gratefully take ahold of her destiny. Over a century passes till the everlasting young woman realizes that maybe she still has a chance at a semi-normal life.
Author's Notes:
1) Major trigger warning for domestic abuse, miscarriage, and murder. Rusalka are a much darker type of mermaid and I intend to keep to that legend, with only a few details and abilities changed.
2) This will be a story about a young woman coming to terms with her abuse and recovering from it. There will also be romance, but it will be slow burn. After all, she will have to relearn to trust and take chances.
3) There will be mermaid vs Quileute vs vampires/Cullens politics! After all, mermaids are the cause of many men dying along the Pacific coast for the past century.
4) If you enjoy this story please leave a review! I really, really appreciates it and by showing me that you like the story, I know it isn't a flop!
Chapter One
Astoria Cane stood in the heart of her bedroom wearing not but her billowed skirt, breasts and stomach exposed as she gazed into the dirty mirror leaned against the cabin wall. It had been two months since her last cycle, and the slight swell of her belly did nothing but fuel the fear and anxiety mixing in her. Her hand ghosted of her stomach, delicately touching her clammy skin— this was all too wrong. It was too early, too soon.
The telltale sound of horse hooves on dirt just short of the cabin pulled Astoria from her horrors. Quickly she crossed the room and slipped her sleeves back on. She rubbed at her cheeks, praying silently that the tear stains were gone and that her normally emerald eyes were free of any redness and sorrow. The door quickly opened and her brunette head snapped into the direction of the intruder.
Unsurprisingly, it was the burly man who was twice her age that she had the misfortune of calling her husband. By the way he slumped and the sweat dotting his forehead, it was clear enough to Astoria that once again, he was drunk.
"Where's the damn food," he glowered as he crossed to the bed to rip off his long worn down boots.
"In the stove," she pinched the palm of her hand in hopes of the pain distracting her from the terror currently resting over her, "I made your favorite. Roast beef and potatoes! Though there isn't much, so I will just be having potatoes, but you—"
Her 'beloved' slammed his boots on the ground, "I don't care what the hell you have, I expect my damned dinner done before I walk in through the door!"
Astoria flinched, "I-I'm sorry I just woke up ill and I-I had a late start. I can go fetch it now, it should be about done."
She waited for his grunt of approval before rushing out of the cabin door and into the small, rustic kitchen. She had told the truth— she was sick that morning. She half suspected it was the morning illness her mother always moaned about while Astoria was growing up. It was that sole fact that led her to recall that she had been late on her monthlies and check her ever growing stomach. A part of her believed it was just a natural weight gain from her depressed nature, but now she could see it was farthest from the truth.
The young mother to be quickly go to work pulling the food out of the oven and plating it for her husband Matthew. After she hurried to the pantry in search of his drink of choice. When she saw not a single bottle of rum left, she felt her stomach churn and anxiety once again prick at her back.
It felt like the world was crashing and Astoria desperately wanted out. She had done what her mother said, followed what their 1890s society dictated of a woman, and still she was rewarded with unhappiness. She lusted to run away and escape Matthew, to make a name for herself and marry someone out of love instead of obligation, but Astoria knew that those silly dreams would never come true.
Astoria turned from the pantry and instead fixed herself and Matthew cups of tea from the kettle sat on the stove top.
"D-Dinner is ready," she called out to her husband before retreating to the table.
She took a seat and waited patiently, as expected, with her hands folded on the table in front of her. Matthew eventually stumbled out of the bedroom, his shirt now gone and his face twisted with frustration. Eventually he collapses into the wooden chair, its legs groaning in protest as he scoots forward and began to dig into his meal.
His young wife on the other hand opted to pushing her potatoes around with her fork. Occasionally she takes a small bite, but is far too distracted by fear to actually feed herself, or the child growing inside of her. Matthew eventually takes a chug of his drink and when he is met with tea instead of rum, he slams the cup down and stabs his steak knife into the table.
"Where the hell if my fuckin' rum?" If looks could kill Astoria would have dropped dead.
"W-We're out, I'm sorry! I didn't realize, and I know you like a drink with dinner so I thought tea would be better than water…"
"You daft, bumbling idiot! You truly cannot do one job right? Not a good fuck, can't cook for shit— what good are you?"
"I-I care for you, and I keep up the home!" Astoria argued back, her eyes stinging with tears, "I try my best to clean the home, wash your clothes and repair them when need be, I cook with what little we have…"
"Little we have? You're fuckin' lucky we have anything! All you do is suck up my money, my time, my energy!"
"P-Please Matthew," Astoria sobbed, unable to hold back her true emotions, "I just want to be happy! To be a happy and healthy family!"
"Yet all you do is waste our time. I knew I shouldn't have made that deal with your mother— she charged far too much for someone so… so simple!"
With the sleeve of her dress shirt, Astoria scrubbed at her eyes, "Please, Matthew! I… I am with child."
An indistinguishable look twisted onto Matthew's crabby features, "you are pregnant?"
"Yes, I think… I haven't had my… womanly duties in two months time, I woke with violent morning illness and my stomach is growing."
Matthew let out a harsh laugh and instead of feeling relieved, Astoria shrunk further down her chair. She was frozen with terror as all she could do was watch him stand up and began to pace the length of the cabin. He mumbled a string of curse words and accusations under his breath before finally coming back to a stop at the table. Without a warning he lifted his plate and flung it against the wall— the porcelain exploding, the shattered pieces left to collect on the wooden floor.
"Look at this place, Astoria! It is a proper shit hole! Do you think we could have a child? I can barely afford your ungrateful ass! I shall use what little we have to purchase poisons to rid you of this unnecessary distraction."
Her blood ran cold, "P-Poison? Unnecessary distraction? B-But that is illegal and I don't want—"
"Does it look like I give a damn?"
Astoria clumsily stood from the chair. She took a step back, slowly making her way towards the door in case she needed to run.
"I can't do that! I won't! Y-You are nothing but my jailor and my inhibitor! Upon the purchase you agreed to a family, to a home. I have taken your beatings, wore the brusings and continued to remain loyal, but I can't do this."
"How dare you!"
Before Astoria could react, he pulled the steak knife from where it stood imbedded in the dining table and crossed to her in three large steps. She stumbled backwards, her back pressed against the door as she reached for the knob. Before she could properly turn it though, Astoria felt a sharp pain in her side and Matthew's hot, alcohol-scented breath on her face. She let out a whimper in pain, the feeling of something warm trickling down her leg and staining the fabric of her shirt.
The nineteen year old forced herself to look down just in time to watch as Matthew's hand pulled the knife from where it was stabbed into her body. The pain erupted as he pulled and the blood began to run faster. Unable to stay on her feet Astoria felt herself slide down the door and sit into the now pool of blood below her. Her left hand cradled the entry wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but between the fear, and the pain, Astoria was at a loss of what to do.
With what little strength she had, Astoria forced herself to face Matthew. The knife was still clutched in his embrace as he looked down upon her without an inch of regret or pity.
"P-Please, retrieve a doctor! It's not too…" her head spun, causing her voice to falter, "not too late to take it back."
"You're still so pathetic…" His voice was much softer now, as if he were content with where they stood.
Matthew leaned forward and grabbed a fistfull of Astoria's brunette locks. She winced and cried out in pain, as he simply ignored her and twisted the door knob open. She fell backwards with the lack of a door to keep her up now, but before she could even think to crawl away, Matthew began to drag her by her hair through the dirt. She wanted to kick and scream but the blood loss was too much— her vision was dotted and her head would not clear.
The last thing she remembered was Matthew depositing her at the river's bank just in front of their small cabin, and the call of darkness as he held her head under its current.
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When Astoria awoke something was most definitely not right. She laid upon a stony surface covered in rich moss and a thick layer of slime and was surrounded by the fresh scent of salt water. Her head was now clear and the pain no longer, but Astoria still struggled with a wave of confusion. A quick glance around the room proved to her that she was in a cave of some sorts. She could feel the cool water lapping at her body as she lay half in the water just below the stone's edge.
She found herself once again topless, and she had feared the worse. Astoria forced herself to roll over onto her back to observe the damage, but was greeted at a heavy weight upon her legs. Thinking it was some odd blankets of sorts her eyes quickly cast down in search of the culprit. Instead though, she was met with a large amber-colored tail. The scales shone in the ethereally lit cavern and the breath immediately left Astoria as she tried to decipher what was truly going on.
In fear that she got mad, Astoria reached down and touched the scales that reached up just below her belly button. It felt like any other fish that she had gutted and prepared for Matthews dinner, but now it appeared as if she had turned into dinner.
"W-What in God's name?" She whispered to herself, her voice echoing in the small chamber.
Out of the corner of her eyes Astoria caught sight of a dark blob swimming in the water just below her tail. As it grew closer and closer she made out the now-familiar shape of a tail a lot like her own, and long locks drifting in the water.
Her visitor broke the water's surface with ease. Her black hair clung to her pale skin and just like Astoria, this woman's chest was bare as well. The stranger's icy blue eyes met Astoria's and she gave the younger girl a soft smile.
"We were beginning to wonder when you'd wake up," her voice had a slight teasing tone to it.
"Who are you? And who is 'we'? What is going on and why do I—"
"Calm down, sister!" The woman propelled herself forward and folded her arms along the stone's edge. Her cheek rested idly against her forearm as she watched Astoria go through several stages of grief, "you are safe now. You are one of us, a Rusalka. Merwomen who met their demise far too soon at the hands of greedy men."
Astoria did not recognize the word 'Rusalka', but upon hearing merwoman, she let out a soft gasp, "that can't be true! Mermaids are just a tale told by sun-stroked sea men."
"But you see yourself, do you not? You aren't dreaming, and this certainly is not Hell. You've lived through Hell enough to know when it is present, I presume."
Memories of Matthews beatings flashed through Astoria's mind, her hand curled into a fist. "He tried to kill me! To kill my baby! I tried to stand up for myself once and he— he hurt me!"
The strange woman reached forward with her left hand slowly, as if approaching a scared animal. When she was sure Astoria would not pull back, she rested her hand on Astoria's now once again flat stomach.
"There are many that the curse of the Rusalka has saved, unfortunately the unborn are upon the list of things out of our control."
For a second time that night, Astoria cried out. She couldn't stop the wail of pain that slipped past her lips— all she wanted was to live a normal life! Yet here she was now, with no family, no home, and she a damned half fish monstrosity!
"There, there lass," the woman pulled herself up so she sat on the stone beside Astoria. She wrapped her arms around the brunette's shoulder and pulled her close in a hug, "it is alright. The pain will numb with time and you will be able to seek revenge against men alike the one who hurt you."
"And how do you suppose we do that?" Astoria asked between sniffles.
A smirk tugged at the corner of the woman's lips and a look that Astoria could only describe as pure satisfaction flickered in her eyes, "why, we simply drown them!"