Chapter 1, From Gray to Robinson

1755, London

The shuffling of a ball gown echoed through the large house, as high heels clacked against the marble floor. No birds sang, as the maiden in the ball gown nodded to the British solider, his red coat standing out while he protected a painted white wooden door with a musket slung over his shoulder and a belt around his waist with ammunition. His white pants were stiff as his black hat shined with an award, outlined by a white ribbon.

The solider opened the door he was blocking slowly, eyeing the girl at the same time with the slightest bit of sadness in his gaze. "Miss Scarlet Gray, why must you need to talk to him now?" He questioned the girl with a slight British accent, opening the door fully as he stood in the middle of her path, a hand on his musket.

"Officer Clark Gilmour," She started, staring at him with dark, big brown eyes as her voice echoed with a solemn tone. "My father might die…I have to talk to him! Let me through!"

The officer nodded, moving to the side as he let the desperate girl in to see her frail care taker, or, what she prefers to say, father.

The room glimmered with the accents of gold and red, the ceiling draping with a huge crystal chandelier, and the French windows leading to the porch draped with satin red curtains. The sun shined through the curtains, making the room tinted with a hue of red. Almost the color of blood.

She ran to her father's bed, holding his hand tightly, but the doctor advised her to let go with no emotion, for they didn't want her to catch small pox disease, but what they all didn't know, including her, was that she is immune to the epidemic disease.

Scarlet let go, staring into her father's blue eyes, tears building up at the edge of her eyes. "Father…why did you call me?" She whispered, kneeling down at his bed side.

Her father, sitting up as his tan, freckled, skin was dappled with the scabs of the disease as well as new clogged up pores, coughed into his shoulder as his gray beard was knotted, and dirty. His blind eye gazed sideways, as he looked back at his daughter, coughing again.

"S…Scarlet. I'm not going to live for another week, we both know that," he said with a bit of humor, his one good eye warm as he tried to not cough. His pig pot-belly jiggled as he laughed to himself.

Scarlet stared at him, confused. "B…but why are you happy about death?" She said, her brown gaze burning into his one good blue eye as she leaned closer.

"I'm not happy, Scarlet…I…just think that death is a second life." He then turned his head, narrowing his eyes at the British officer and the doctor, saying bitterly with an obvious hint, "Now, I need to talk to you alone, Scarlet."

The doctor and officer hesitated, staring at each other as if they were deciding what to do. They finally nodded, the doctor saying gently, "If you need us Nathanial, well be right outside your bedroom door."

With that, they both stepped outside and closed the door behind them, their muffled voices echoing even though Scarlet couldn't hear what they were saying. She ignored their voices, and instead stared at her father, hoping he would survive the disease just like he did before.

Nathanial turned to Scarlet, coughing into his bed covers. When he removed his face from the sheets, small dots of red beaded the whole bed cover. It was blood.

"Father! Your coughing blood!" She gasped, getting up from his bed side as she was going to alert Officer Clark and Doctor Turner, but his big, harry hand grabbed her wrist, making her turn and stare at her father. Her eyes sparked with tears of sadness.

"It doesn't matter, Scarlet…" He said gruffly, coughing again into the sheets as more blood appeared.

Scarlet wiped her eyes on her yellow ball gown's sleeve, more and more tears starting to build up.

Nathanial patted her arm, giving a smile as he then jerked away, coughing less as his breaths came slower, and slower.

"Papa…no…" Scarlet whimpered, holding him by the shoulders as she shook him.

Nathanial didn't reply. He couldn't as his breaths were coming slower, and his eyes flickered open, and then closed several times. Instead, he took his right hand, grabbing what looked like a necklace from his neck.

He held his big fist out to his daughter, handing her a necklace in her palm, and closing her hand with his as he turned his head, and coughed.

Scarlet opened her fist, looking at the necklace.

A shiny, well crafted black mermaid was hooked on the string through a hole, the mermaid looking like black glass. It's eyes were small pearls, and her hair was black, luscious curls. It's tail was perfected, the scales defined with detail, and white pearl's covering her breasts.

Scarlet stared at her father, hesitating from the mermaid, to him. "Father, I don't understand…" She whispered, crying.

Her father smiled, his eyes warm as he choked out, a sentence taking all his last strength that he had, "The…the Black Mermaid….Scarlet Robinson…."

Scarlet stared at him, gasping as his eyes closed slowly and the usual rise-and-fall of the chest stopped. She screamed, scared. "Doctor Turner!"

As soon as the doctor heard his name called, he rushed to Nathanial's bed, Scarlet's hands crossed as if she was praying. The doctor held two fingers to the old man's neck, and closed his eyes, sadness filling the room.

"Scarlet, he's gone…" He said, packing his supplies into a leather hand bag.

Scarlet rushed over to the doctor, holding his collar with all her might, her brown gaze desperate for answers. "He can't be dead…it's not true! Please, do something!

The doctor loosened her grip, and held her by the shoulder, his hazel gaze serious. "I can't do anything. He's gone, Miss Scarlet."

The doctor left soon after, the officer patting Scarlet's back as she sobbed away in a velvet red chair. She looked at the mermaid every so often, just crying even more as her father's voice echoed in her mind, over and over again…it killed her to hear, Scarlet Robinson.

Scarlet Robinson was the name she was given before Nathanial found her. After that, Nathanial decided it would be best if she changed her last name to his, so she could pass as his daughter. At the time, she didn't care, but now, since Nathanial is gone, she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to do about the mermaid, his body, his land. She needed to marry soon to get to keep the land, but she doesn't want to be engaged or married. She'd rather die!

"Scarlet…"Officer Clark said, sitting down across from her as he poured some of the lukewarm tea from the table separating them.

Scarlet flinched, thinking she heard the slightest bit of sympathy. She continued to cry.

The officer continued. "I don't know if Nathanial ever told you…but he use to be a pirate."

Scarlet, tears still dripping from her face, stared at the officer in confusion. Nathanial always told her that he worked as a blacksmith. But that would explain his cravings for rum and his scars along his back that look like whipping marks.

Again, Clark continued as he took off his bright red hat. "His real name was Nate Harrison. He was a treasure seeker, and after awhile, he retired due to…well, you. There's a lot of rumors though of why he retired, like people say that Davy Jones took his one eye for stealing his gold. Anyways, that's about the time when he found you. You were, 4 or 5, I can't remember, but he thought you were lost and took you home, to his abandoned shack. He put up flyers, explaining how you looked, and went to the local pirate bars to see if anyone recognized you. No one did. And I guess, he got attached to you. So he quit pirating, and took care of you. Then, when his parents died, he got a huge amount of money from their will that he didn't even know they had! He moved you and him to this house were in, and left a man in charge of his valuable ship, The Black Mermaid. His name is Captain Oliver Crag."

He then took a long, steady breath. "I promised to never tell the other officers of his past, but you're not an officer and you have a right to know."

Scarlet shivered at the whole story. "H…he was a pirate?" She stammered, her cheeks shining with dried tears.

Clark laughed. "Yes. He never wanted you to know though. He never wanted you to be a pirate." He said, sipping his tea slowly.

Scarlet poured herself some tea, sipping it to as she tried to recover from the recent and startling news. How could Nathanial be a pirate? He's barely able to swim! She thought to herself in silence.

Putting the tea cup down, she opened her small fist, looking at the necklace. Tilting the mermaid to the side, it's pearl eyes shined and sparkled.

Clark stood up, looking at the necklace. "Yeah, that's his, isn't it?" He said, turning around as his red coat shined. He sat back down in the chair.

Scarlet nodded. "It seems old.."

Clark laughed. "You can't expect something that valuable to look new." He said, taking another sip.

Scarlet fake laughed along with him, as she then tied the necklace around her neck. She tied the two strings in a knot, making the necklace hard to get off. She then turned to Clark. "Officer…do you even know who Oliver is? Captain Oliver?"

Clark sat silently, dapping his mouth with a small napkin as he finally spoke. "Oliver, or Phoenix of the Sea, is a wild man. He's ruthless, and as of now he's docked at the harbor. I personally never met him, but I've heard stories and folklores. He stays in town for a few days, avoiding all officers from capturing him, and stocks up on food and rum. He then sails everywhere, looking for treasures and myths. He's a dangerous man. Why do you ask?"

Scarlet narrowed her eyes, as she sighed, her voice still shaking. "I want to claim Nathan-Nate's ship. The Black Mermaid is rightfully mine."

"Yes, but you're a woman. 21, right?" He said, unwrapping the cloth in a small basket as scones were underneath. He picked up a blueberry scone, eating it slowly as crumbs speckled his red suit. He swiped them off, taking another swig of tea.

Scarlet stared at her feet. "Yeah…but it's not fair. I'm the only person Nate has, and Oliver isn't related to him. I may not be blood family, but he does consider me as his daughter."

Clark sighed. "I'll…I'll show you where his ship is docked, but you can't mention my name." He gruffly replied, his moustache twitching.

The dark headed girl nodded, smiling as she hugged the red-coat officer. "I owe you one, officer."

Clark laughed. "You owe me more then one, but what about the house? What if you decide not to come back?"

Scarlet didn't answer, but held the necklace's mermaid tightly. She then looked at her father's bed, his body still there, cold and stiff even though he looked peaceful.

She looked back at Clark, a tear streaming down her face. "If anyone asks…I died. My name is now Scarlet Robinson, soon to be captain of the Black Mermaid."

Clark stared at her, a slight frown on his face as his lip quivered. "Okay…I'll miss you."

Scarlet hugged him, a small tear spotting his red coat. "I'll miss you too. I'll always remember you."

Clark laughed, backing out of her grasp as he then said, "Scarlet…your father wanted me to give you this."

He reached behind his coat, taking a beautiful steel dagger out, the blade engraved with an unknown language as the butt of it had a black mermaid as well, almost identical to the mermaid on the necklace. It had the same soft pearl eyes and the same detail on the tail, it was just breathtaking.

She picked it up slowly, examining it as she sliced her finger, a drop of blood staining her yellow ball gown. "It's sharp."

Clark stared at it, getting a wet napkin for her finger. "Of course. Your father used it so many times."

Scarlet looked up. "What did he use it for?"

Clark didn't answer, as he looked to the side.

Scarlet sighed, as she gazed back down at the dagger. It shined brightly as the sun hit it through the French windows. "Thank you father…"she murmured, hesitating as she waited for a reply, but then had to remind herself that he was dead, laying still in his bed.

After a few minutes of silence, Clark opened the bedroom door to let the body collectors in. The removed the corpse, Scarlet gazing upon the once full of joy body, which was now as cold as ice.

She cried to herself a bit, burying her head into Clark's sleeve.

All the slaves of the house were silent for the rest of the day, for Nate, or Nathanial, was one of the only people in London who actually treated them equally.

No birds sang, yet the sun still shined.

Scarlet was in her room, packing a small leather bag with the few valuable items she had. The dagger, some blouses, pants, boots, euro's, a book or two and so on.

"You're not gonna go in dat gown, is you?" A strong and deep voice called from the entrance of her bedroom door. Scarlet turned around to see her slave, Finn.

"Of course not, Finn. Why aren't you cleaning the horse's stall's like the others?" She said, trying to coax him out of the room so he wouldn't realize she was going away.

Finn sighed. "I wanted to see if you was okay." He said, staring at her as his height towered over Scarlet, making her feel small.

"I'm fine, Finn." She stated, turning around as she continued to pack.

Finn shuffled his feet, staring at the ground as he said, "Miz, where is you going?"

Scarlet stopped, closing her eyes as she turned around once again, taking a deep breath. "Norwich. To see me Aunt…Clara." She lied, a bit annoyed as she packed once again, taking a oil painting of her and Nate when she was 5. Pushing down tears, she threw the painting into her leather bag.

Finn gently said, "Okay miz," and with that, he left.

Scarlet sighed. She hated to lie to her slaves, especially Finn. Finn and her met on a plantation when she was 16, and once she saw the hatred that their owner treated them with, whipping them every hour, giving them only a crumb of bread to eat, she broke out into rage.

John Ulan, owner of the abused slaves, was a bit afraid by her rage and gave her Finn since he was in poor condition anyways. Scarlet rushed him to the doctor, who at first refused to help heal the slave, but Nate gave him extra payment, so the doctor came over every night for a month, to clean his wounds and check on him in general.

Scarlet buckled the leather bag, and then focused on her clothes. She took of her ball gown slowly, then untied her curly hair. If she was going to Oliver, she had to look like a Robinson, not a Gray.

Tossing her head back and forth a few times, her hair looked shaken up. She rushed, searching through her oak chest, finding a white blouse. Quickly putting it on, she took a leather vest, throwing it on too as well as canvas shorts, and long dark brown boots.

She then opened her closet, smiling as she found her favorite cape that Nate gave her. Taking it down from the closet, she put it on. Its long cloth flowed on the swift breeze that filled her room.

Scarlet then took the dagger out from her bag, staring at the fine detail of the mermaid and the shining blade. Not looking at it for a heartbeat more, she tucked it into her shorts, in a position to make sure she wouldn't get injured by the sharp blade.

As she swung the leather bag over her shoulder, she looked at her room for the last time. Her beautiful bed, the drapes, the paintings of her and her father. It was hard for her to believe that she was just leaving this pampered life. Some people would die to get a life like this, yet she was just leaving it without a clear reason yet. The only reason she had was to reclaim The Black Mermaid, and meet this 'Captain' Oliver Crag.

Closing the door behind her, the maids and house slaves stared at her new outfit in confusion.

Scarlet tried to avoid eye contact with them, but beads of sweat started to mark her face as she walked briskly through the huge hall to the front door where she saw Officer Clark waiting for her.

More of the maids stared at her, her brown eyes not even gazing upon them. Hushed whispers echoed though, loud enough for her to hear.

"Is that Miss Scarlet? Why is she dressed like a rogue?"

"You mean pirate, not rogue."

"Is she going to a costume party?"

All these whispers echoed in her head as she finally reached Clark, smiling faintly as her hair shined slightly in the sun's shine through the open window. "I'm ready." She said, her head tilted down so he couldn't see the sweat on her face.

Clark nodded his head. He opened the door, his black boots clacking loudly against the gravel path, the city echoing loudly with villagers and livestock. Horses trotted by him, the British soliders riding the horses nodded to Clark.

He turned to Scarlet, determination burning in his dark brown eyes. "Let's go find that ship."