I can still remember that day well. I was walking along the dock, the hot sun beating down on me and the smell of salt water heavy in my nose. Dogs scuttled passed me with ratty, peasant children holding onto them. Venders sold rotten vegetables and sailors called to one another. I was enjoying it all.
In just a few weeks, my father was sending me out to sea. Though I belonged to one of the richest noble families in the country, my father still believe it was a good idea for me to go out and sail the oceans. He said it would be a great way to see the world. He was going to put me on a ship to the New World and wave goodbye, pretending to wipe fake tears from his eyes so that my mother was satisfied. I knew he was going to be glad to have me gone, though. I was nothing but a thorn in his side.
So, there I was, enjoying what little time I had left on land. Not that I minded being sent off to sea. I was sure I wouldn't miss a thing about the stable ground beneath my feet. It was too predictable. It never moved. The ocean – now, that was another thing. Always moving, unpredictable, exciting. Just right for me.
That's when I saw her. She was standing a little ways away, talking to one of the fat vendors. I scowled at first. A woman should not be talking to one of the vile vendors here. They were too delicate and dependant. But, then, I realized that she wasn't like any of the girls I had ever seen. She was gorgeous but that wasn't it. The way she held herself oozed confidence and beauty. And she didn't seem to be arguing with the vendor like I expected. She seemed to be…flirting with him. He wore a dazed look as he handed her an apple and she walked off in my direction, taking a bite of the apple with a smile on her face.
Then, she was in front of me.
"Staring, are we?" she asked me, her voice twanged with a peculiar accent.
I just gaped at her. She was one of the most – actually, the most- unusual woman I had ever seen and the most beautiful. She was truly gorgeous. Her skin was a dark brown that I hadn't seen on any person other than slaves. But it was obvious that she wasn't a slave. Despite the fact that her hair was knotted in tight dreadlocks that were piled on her head and was quite messy, I knew she wasn't a slave. Her dress was too nice. It wasn't like one of the ridiculously froufrou things I saw most noble woman wearing but it wasn't a potato sack like peasants wore. It was corseted around her bosom with blood red fabric but the rest draped down her legs and arms in a shimmering gold color. It was unlike any dress I had ever seen and I appreciated the simplicity of it.
"You're still staring," she said but she didn't sound mad. There was a laugh to her voice and a twinkle in her eyes.
"Sorry, ma'am," I said but I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. She couldn't be more than two years younger than my eighteen years. Regardless, it didn't matter. My father had married my mother when she was fourteen, half his age at the time. I didn't even know this girl's name and I already thinking of marrying her.
"Well, if you're going to stare, you might as well tell me your name." She still wasn't mad. It sounded like she was enjoying the attention.
"Davy Jones, ma'am," I told her, reaching out a hand towards her as though I was greeting a man. I should have been bowing to her but I had lost all logic.
"Davy Jones, eh?" she said, taking my hand lightly in hers. I still couldn't figure out her peculiar accent but it sounded like music to my ears. "I'm Tia Dalma."
"Tia Dalma," I repeated. "Would you like to walk with me?" I could kill myself for being so rash and rude but I didn't want to let her out of my sight. She was so beautiful and interesting and different.
She laughed and it sounded like chiming bells. "Well, of course." She took my arm before I could even offer it.
*******
The boy seemed to be dazzled by me, watching my ever move. He kept staring at me with those wonderful green eyes of his. I won't lie and say I wasn't at all dazzled by him. As I took his arm, I laughed. The boy's eyes followed my every move. If only he knew who I was. Calypso, goddess of the sea. The very one who was said to have kept Odysseus captive on her island, wanting him for a husband. All lies. I was a whore, sure, but not a bitch. Odysseus had stayed with me by choice and only when that nasty Hermes reminded him of home had he decided to leave.
Oh well. I lived alone on that island for centuries after that and only now had I decided to see what had become of the mortals. A new and fascinating country had started taking over the world. England. And now I was hanging onto the arm of a handsome boy. He really was handsome though he was quite quiet. He would be fun to play with. I was glad I had chosen such a young age to look.
"This is place is so wonderful, so different!" I exclaimed. "I've never seen any place like it."
Davy took the bait. "You've never been to England before?"
"No, I haven't," I admitted with downcast eyes. I looked at him from under my thick lashes, blinking them flirtatiously.
"Where did you live?" he asked, truly curious. "You're accent is so different."
"I came from the New World," I answered automatically.
"Is it as great there as they say?"
"Not quite. England is much more fascinating and I've only been here a few hours."
"Where is your family?"
"They sent me out here alone."
He seemed truly shocked by this, disbelief etched on his chiseled face. He was one of the first men I had talked to since Odysseus left my island but I was sure he was handsome for reasons other than that. His jawbone was well defined and his nose straight. His eyes sparkled like emeralds above his sharp cheekbones, surrounded by a fringe of wonderful lashes. His blond hair was shaggy, complimenting his fair skin tone. Every once in a while, his lips would twist into a beautiful crooked smile. The arm of his that I held felt muscular and his clothing hinted at royalty.
"Miss Dalma –" he started but I cut him off.
"Enough of the formalities," I said, light and teasing. "Tia will suffice."
"Tia," he said, the crooked smile on his lips again. "If you don't mind my asking, where do you plan on staying?"
"I'm not sure," I said with a shrug. I really wasn't that concerned. I could get anyone to let me into their house to sleep. All it took was a little magic.
"Well, that's unacceptable," Davy said. His face was stern but his voice was almost happy. "I insist that you stay with my family. We have a few extra rooms and an extra maid that can tend to you. It would be my parent's and my honor to have you stay with us."
I looked at him, smiling. I licked my lips quickly but not too quickly that he didn't notice. He was going to be fun to play. I had never truly been in love but I had many lovers. And I was sure he was going to be the best of them all.
"If you insist, Mr. Jones," I said innocently.
"What happened to losing the formalities?" he asked, a smile in his voice as well as on his lips. "It is just Davy."
"Davy," I mused. This was going to be fun.
