The cook was generally used to random requests for food outside dining hours from the Captain. Fish, however, was rarely what the Captain asked for. When Alfred said he was going to try feed the merman again, the cook lifted a curious brow, but did not say anything. Alfred was plenty sure, though, that the cook was silently asking himself the same question he had first posed; merpeople ate fish?

That had been about half an hour ago.

Now, he sat by his desk, looking at the open tank with one fish on a platter balanced on one of the corners. The one the food was intended for however was lying at the bottom of the tank, almost demonstratively looking everywhere else but at the food. When the merman had mentioned the matter of a 'seaweed diet', Alfred had been on the verge of saying "What about humans?", but had luckily caught himself before doing so –his offers regarding food had already been misinterpreted once, and that was once too many.

Alfred was tapping his pen on a document silently, observing the merman. He had suddenly, and without forewarning, seen a completely new side of the being. It had disoriented him, as well as leaving him curious to see if there was more to this creature than the public knowledge and common prejudice had to offer.

But, the merman had yet to touch the food after over half an hour, and finally, the Captain sighed heavily, the pen falling still on the sheets of paper on his desk.

"Look; that food is for you. You're hungry. You must be."

There was no reaction from within the tank. A thought awoke in his head. Gently, yet deliberately and observing carefully, he said, "I will not demand anything of you in return if you eat it. You can have as many as you like."

His words made the merman tense up. Although nearly invisibly so, there was no mistake. He slowly turned around to face the navy captain, eyes big and emerald green. The Captain must have hit the nail on the head, for he floated slowly upwards, gingerly breaking the surface. He ascended behind the plate, keeping some distance from the food still. He glanced at Alfred, almost as if to check if the Captain would go back on his word and sneak up on him. Alfred did not move, and a hand lifted, dripping with water, testing the air. Then it latched out; the merman's mouth opened, and the fish was gone.

Alfred blinked. He had not seen it be eaten. The merman had swallowed it whole in less than a second, without chewing.

Alfred stared as the merman greedily licked its fingers, momentarily forgetting everything about keeping up all and any of its facades. Alfred moved slightly – just a thoughtless, absent shifting in his chair. Not much, but it was more than enough. The merman snapped its head up, caught Alfred's eyes. Its pale skin became if possibly even bleaker; clearly having been uncomfortably reminded of its silent spectator. It quickly dived back under the surface.

A silent vacuum seemed to suck up the air in the room, of the kind that left Alfred completely immobile in his seat, until he forced himself to break the silence several minutes later. He rose, still feeling every bit crushed by the very air, took the plate, and left.

The captain went back to the kitchen. The cook wasn't there –he was probably checking out the food supply in the storeroom further down in the ship's levels. But it wasn't a problem; Alfred was well acquainted with the kitchen, and found all of what he needed with great ease. What he needed was not really much, true enough, but even so. He found the barrel with fish and grabbed two relatively large ones by the gills before returning to his cabin with them.

Thus he sat there again, watching from his desk as the plate was balanced on the corner. Only one of the fish was on it, though, as he had chosen to hang onto the other. It was lying on the edge of his desk, clear of any documents and the like.

The merman's gluttonous eating had affirmed his earlier assumptions; the meals at the pub had been scrawny. But someone who was accustomed to receive scarce amounts of food –even if it was not enough – should not suddenly be fed in huge amounts. That could easily do more harm than good.

This time, the merman did not need any form of encouragement from the Captain. He already had half the fish down his throat by the time Alfred had first sat down. The fish's tail stuck out of the merman's mouth. He stopped for a second, glanced at Alfred, and then swallowed the fish completely.

Alfred couldn't help gawking just a tad at the sight, despite his best efforts to keep professional. That fish had been a lot bigger than the first, yet the merman seemed to have no trouble swallowing it straight down.

Alfred quickly regained control of his face and collected himself, though not quickly enough for the creature to have missed it. It paused to observe the Captain, then its posture changed. It returned to that calm, self-assured expression from its first days aboard the ship. The creature's tilted its head just slightly, just a little bit, while eyeing Alfred. It leaned against the side of the tank and reached a hand up to its face.

The merman opened its mouth and stretched its neck, its fingers going to its lips. As this happened, Alfred suddenly noticed something new. When he now saw it, he remembered having seen it before, but not clearly enough to have registered it. Now, however, he did.

It had gills. There were three of them on either side; horizontal slits, the first right under the jaw and the two others following evenly down the throat. As the merman stretched his head up, he spread out the gills at the same time. Then his fingers went into its mouth, seeming to take a hold of something far back, and proceeded to pull fish bones back out. From tail to head, an entire fish skeleton, flawless.

Alfred did not gawk with his mouth this time (he was focusing very hard so as not to), but very much with his eyes. As the merman put the bones on the plate, he discovered the smaller fish skeleton on the floor beneath. It took a few seconds, and a few more when he had gotten up on his feet, but he went over and picked up the plate and remains of the smaller fish.

The captain walked outside without a sound, crossed the deck, and dumped the fragile, shiny bones in the water.

The sun was on its way down, the same thin, light clouds from earlier that day hanging by the horizon. Their see-through white colour seemed only to amplify the splendour of the sunset sky, taking on a bashful blush crowned with an orange hue. Beneath, the wave tops mirrored it all like an especially dainty mosaic picture. The moist bones flashed in a bright orange from the setting sun, for a second looking like sun rays gone astray, before hitting the water and being swallowed by the ocean.

Alfred looked on as the bones sunk slowly due to their light weight, pulled in dull dancing twirls by the waves' currents and heaves. When they were gone from sight, he closed his eyes, breathing in the cool and fresh ocean air. He laid his hands on the rail, leaning against it. He tilted his head back a little, letting the breath out again, and opened his eyes. The day had gone by so very quickly. Come to think of it, the past few days had all flown by in a blur. He traced the thin, sparsely spread clouds with his eyes. How much of his time and daily affairs had changed since they had found that creature in the pub, the merman. How long had it been now? It had been more than a week, surely. Two weeks? Three? He actually wasn't sure. Regardless, he glanced in his cabin's direction; it had been a very long time for the merman to be without food. He wondered briefly if the way it had gobbled up the fish was the ordinary way its kind consumed food, or if it was caused by fatigue as Alfred had initially thought.

He inhaled deeply again. Nothing felt better than this air, and it reminded him of how stuffy the air of his cabin was. He should air out soon; in contrast to the lower levels of the ship, he actually had the luxury of having windows that could be opened.

He took a last deep breath as he turned to go back and glanced up at the helm where he knew the helmsman stood, soberly and dutifully, gazing steadfastly out across the sea. Alfred did not doubt the man had seen him –if the helmsman had not, then that would have been more than enough of a reason to fire him for being unobservant. But he was thankful for the privacy he had been given as the man didn't look at him even once.

When Alfred returned inside, he was abruptly halted midway through the door: not by any physical force, but by what he saw.

The merman lay, if one could call it that, across the edge of the tank. That is to say, it had its hip resting against the sturdy girder marking out the edge, tail in the water while the upper body stretched out of the tank.

The merman froze at the sound of the door opening, and with wide eyes looked at Alfred. It was reaching for the fish on his desk –well, on the desk had at least been where Alfred had left it. Now, it was lying on the- …floor? Alfred blinked nonplussed. The tank was also all the way on the other side of the room across from it. However did the merman at all hope to reach the fish?

Alfred looked at the merman again. It was back at the bottom of the tank now, under water. It was looking at the Captain with those deep, green eyes of its, as though it had never done anything else. The Captain crossed the floor after finally pulling himself together, and picked up the fish on his way to the desk, deciding to dismiss the question of how it ended up there. There was too much else to think of, he must have just bumped into it without noticing earlier.

"You should wait a little," he said, keeping as casual a voice as he could -despite his mind being a whirring mess- and placed the fish back on the edge of his desk. He could practically feel his every move being closely observed.

"It's not good," he continued, pretending to be busy arranging documents he had long since arranged, still that feeling of being watched prickling across his skin. "For you," he said. The boat rocked softly around them. "-Your stomach," he elaborated with a glance at the seemingly indifferent merman. Seemingly, because only its eyes betrayed its hunger by the ever so swift glances at the fish. Alfred adjusted the weight on his feet to keep up with the unstable floor, doing so without really noticing; all his years at sea had turned this action into the same elementary instinct as breathing.

Alfred, to escape the tension of the situation and ever burning sensation of eyes on him, kept himself busy with the random shuffling. In the end he sat down on the chair, paging slowly through one of the special books from Plymouth. A few words some twenty, thirty pages in caught his attention, and he began reading. Like this, an unknown period of time passed by in silence, only infrequently broken by low sounds of soft ripples from the tank.


It was on a random impulse from one of the things he read that had Alfred glancing at the merman. He frowned, his chest tightening oddly. The green orbs swallowed him right up the moment he laid eyes on it, and he found it difficult to get the words out when he opened his mouth.

"What did he do to you?"

The merman had been looking, gazing, staring, at the fish, as though an intense hope that the sight alone would soothe its hunger. It had jerked when Alfred turned around however, eyes shifting from the fish to the Captain. Alfred just barely caught and took note of this action in the back of his mind.

Maybe it had been too quick, too sudden, to ask.

Alfred focused on taking in the steady movement of the ship, the motions he was so used to and loved. The semi dark wood making out his cabin, at the moment nearly black in the lack of light, the draping decorating his window on either side. The floorboards running evenly beside each other, the legs of his desk planted upon them. His many white documents basking in the flickering light of a lantern he had lit without noticing while reading. He must have been reading on for longer than he would have first assumed, for no golden rays found their way in through his window, which meant the sun had long since dived into the sea already.

Somewhere along the wandering of his gaze, his eyes landed upon the fish. It was dry, looking mostly grey because of it, a few scales sticking out awkwardly from the lack of moisture and the rough handling it had probably undergone when hauled out of its watery home. The only slightly translucent fin, and the body that was attached to it, was simple, nothing like the splendour only a few metres away from him.

Alfred hitched the fish up by its right gill. The throat had been cut open, making the fish hang in an unnatural angle from his fingers. The mouth agape, round eyes sunken slightly into the skull.

"Two."

Alfred's eyes darted across the room. They locked there.

It was only one word, but it seemed to ring on like lyrics of many hundred words, hanging in the air, never quite letting go. Alfred's throat felt dry, the fish weighing down his hand a little as he rose.

"Only two small fish a day was what he gave me," said the merman. Plain words, an even tone. Yet they bore that same character, same feeling, as the first single spoken word. The boards creaked under Alfred's feet, their heavy, slow movements almost a rhythm, from side to side, front to back, diagonally, dancing. Alfred's palate, tongue, and throat were so very dry when he opened his mouth. Yet sound still came from it.

"Wait a few hours," he said, stepping across the floor, letting the ship's dance tilt him in the right direction and lighten his steps. "That's good for you." He steadied himself with one hand against the tank's edge.

"Then I'll-" He frowned slightly, almost as though he had briefly and suddenly forgotten how to speak. The merman's hands rested not far from Alfred's lone one. The merman slithered closer through the water, though the distance between them had already been short, tilting his head slightly backwards to look up into Alfred's face. The mouth opened. Not a sound came from it. Instead, Alfred's abilities of speech returned to him.

"Then I'll give you this fish as well," he said. He lifted up the hand with the dead sea-creature dangling from his fingers, then across the edge. He lifted it higher, not so it was at level with the merman's head, but a little above. The fish touched the merman's lips, almost like a shared, chaste kiss, before the head slipped into his mouth, the rest smoothly following as Alfred let go of the tail.

Alfred staggered.

The merman's eyes left him to focus on the food, and the contact between them broke. The room seemed to all but hit Alfred like a violent blow to the face. His surroundings came back into awareness with a pang, and it took a great deal of self-control not to gape like the fish had seconds ago as he felt an abrupt lack of air burning in his lungs. The oxygen level of his body was probably completely fine; it was likely just an imaginary reaction, but that did not stop it from feeling painfully real.

It had happened again. And again, he hadn't even noticed. More than anything, Alfred just wanted to go back to his chair, sit down, and drink something relaxing. He should get some sleep, anything. But he couldn't let go of the edge, as it at that moment felt like that was the only thing keeping him standing. So he had to remain there, less than a metre from the merman who was about to pull the fish out again. Or the fish bones, as it were. They were neatly placed on the tank edge before the merman's attention was turned to the Captain once more.

Had Alfred not seen the ship being built and known to the core of his being how sturdy its floorboards were, he would have believed the feeling of them giving way under him to be real. He leaned more heavily against the tank. This brought him lower and more forward, and thus also closer to the merman. He slowly reached out with one hand, bridging the distance between them. Why? Why was it-?

His fingertips brushed against cool, smooth skin. His fingers ran gingerly across the cheek, following the cheekbone to the ear. He brushed away half damp hair, in the corner of his eye spotting the three gills tracing the neck below. His heart was numbly beating away and it felt as though his head was filled with water, making his hearing dull, as though the sounds came from the other side of a thick glass wall.

He was so close, so close. He could just lean in, just lightly, nothing more than a slight change of weight, and he could press his lips to the creature before him.

His feet abruptly went ice cold and a chilled shiver rushed up his spine. He wanted to turn around and flee. But he was glued to the wood of the tank, unable to move.

"Why," Alfred's voice failed him, his throat far too dry to produce a proper sound. He opened and closed his mouth, tongue dry and uncomfortable as he touched it to the roof of his mouth before trying to speak again.

"I thought mermaids-" He broke himself off, frowned, brain not working as quickly as it should as he corrected himself, "I thought merfolk sang." The merman's deep eyes looked unblinkingly at him. "The tales," Alfred fumbled, trying his best to keep a steady stream of words as this was the only thing his mind managed to supplement him with, completely out of the blue as the subject was. "The tales tell of how merpeople sink ships and kill sailors," a brief, unwilling pause to his rambling again, "as they sing."

The merman did not reply at first. A long while of silence passed between them as it seemed to observe Alfred, just floating in the water, looking at him with those eyes that told nothing of what it felt.

"You have your answer," it said.

Alfred nearly fell over completely. It was only by a severe mustering of strength that he saved himself from hitting the floor when he was suddenly able to stumble backwards. Several metres from the tank he was breathing heavily, eyes wide and gradually feeling embarrassed at his trembling hands and feet. He hastily decided it was about high time he did something about his wet bed, and left on feet that were more unstable than he would have liked to admit.


The ship was fast asleep. Only the helmsman and four other sailors on guard were awake and Alfred was supposed to be sleeping. He was supposed to, so that he could wake up early and take over the wheel. But he wasn't. All his bedding had been changed, the mattress as well, and the hammock removed. He was under his soft, thick, expensive covers, the lantern he had had lit on his desk blown out so his cabin again was illuminated only by the outdoor lanterns. And again he couldn't sleep. This was quickly becoming quite the unfortunate habit.

After turning for the fifteen hundredth time, he gave up. Sitting up, he reached for the little lantern on his nightstand, lighting it so a lively red sheen flickered to life and filled his end of the room.

At the lack of something better to do, he grabbed the book he had not moved to the desk. He did not look at the merman, so he did not know if it was watching him, but he did not doubt it was awake. Ignoring his peripheral vision to the best of his ability, he cracked the book open and began to read.

In comparison to his many former tries and attempts to make sense of the book's numerous pages and black signs printed on old, browned white paper, he found he was soon engulfed in it. Not all he read was about merpeople either. Many pages dealt with water currents and facts about different sea creatures, 'ordinary' ones as well as the more legendary ones. At one page he found a detailed drawing of a gigantic octopus pulling a ship into the abyss. He felt the hairs of his neck rise slightly at the thought of encountering one such as those.

After a while he finally came upon what he was looking for: Mermaids. He read the title twice, and found a certain humour in it. Or at least it was interesting how people would always speak of mermaids and not merpeople. Or mermen.

The drawing accompanying the chapter title was of a beautiful young woman, at least a young woman from the waist up. From the waist down her body was that of a fish, long and slim, fanning out at the end as she sat upon a rock, naked and with her long hair falling in alluring waves down her shoulders.

The first paragraph on the following page could be summed down to four words: 'stay away from mermaids' -if you valued your life, at any rate. Then came a short description of how they looked (as if the picture did not suffice), but then came what Alfred had been looking for. Stories, long and short, of mermaid sightings as well as tales of grand ships that had been pulled to their deaths by lone mermaids. It was amidst these, irregularly spread out between the histories, that what could be called facts and guidelines were written. Already the first one had Alfred glancing over at the merman to make comparisons with what he read.

Of course, when he looked, he was reminded of what had happened only a few hours prior, but swallowed it the best he could and pushed it to the back of his mind.

If a mermaid is seen while a ship is at sea, it usually means that the ship and its crew are doomed to sink. However, if the mermaid shows no interest in the ship or swims away, this is a good sign.

Meetings with mermaids can be very dangerous. If she approaches the vessel because she is interested in someone aboard, and then he scorns her, she can call up a storm or tidal wave to have the entire vessel destroyed.

If you are to throw fish or coins at the mermaid, she might dive for it and disappear, thus you will save the ship from disaster. But the sailors who distract the mermaid this way might be in even more danger on the next voyage. If throwing fish and coins does not work and the mermaid follows the ship, it is sure to sink.

Alfred turned the page, and as he did, he let his eyes wander along the top edge of it until the tank and its contents came into view. The merman was not looking at him. Thoughtfully, and after a while, Alfred returned his attention to the book.

There are tales of these ladies of the sea in stories and books all around the world. They are portrayed in all kinds of art, from sculptures, paintings, vases and other pottery works, to the figureheads of ships. Lanterns, medallions, needlework, combs, and even chandeliers have been made with mermaid motif.

Following this was a short story of how a sailor whose name Alfred had never heard before, had married a mermaid only to disappear three years later. However, what caught Alfred's interest was a neat handwriting in the margin.

In 1608, the explorer Henry Hudson wrote the following in his logbook: "This morning one of our companie looking over board saw a Mermaid… from the Navill upward, her back and breasts were like a woman's, her body as big as one of us; her skin very white; and long haire hanging down behind, of colour blacke; in her going downe they saw her tayle, which was like the tayle of a porpoisse and speckled like a Macrell".

1608. Alfred thoughtfully let his fingers slide across the writing, feeling the ink letters as they bulged out ever so slightly from the paper. This year was 1641. He marvelled at the writing, knowing well who Henry Hudson had been. The man had died in 1611, only three years after he wrote out this copied paragraph in his logbook apparently.

Alfred was lost for a long while wondering just who had written this small bit of text, letters italic and thin, with elegant, tortuous capital letters. Someone who had had access to Hudson's log, and someone who had been in that bookstore –then again, it was probable that it had been written down in the margin long before the book ended up in the shabby old bookstore.

He gave a lightly frustrated sigh as he had to acknowledge the fact that he would never know. It was all most likely the result of coincidences. So, with a last glance at the writing, he read on, three pages later finding something that made his brows lift in curious surprise.

A mermaid can be kept as a wife if the sailor manages to steal one of her possessions, such as her comb, brush or mirror, and keep it hidden from her. He will need to hide it well, because no matter how long they are married and how many children they have, if she ever finds it, the mermaid will always return to the sea.

Alfred read the paragraph twice before looking up and over at the merman and speaking before he could think better of it,

"Say, is it so that if I take a comb, brush, or mirror of yours from you, I will have control over you?"

To say the expression on the merman's face was one of surprise would be an understatement. He looked baffled, speechless, most likely only a drop away from his jaw falling down as well. Then he frowned, huffed and looked directly at the Captain.

"If I take your hat or coat, will I have control over you?"

It was Captain Alfred's turn to be surprised, though it only lasted for a few seconds. After that he actually broke out laughing. Anyone on the outside looking in would have said the situation was absurd, ridiculous and positively beyond salvation, likewise his behaviour (and probably sanity as well). Some tiny part of Alfred's mind did note that this reaction of his was not what would have been to expected, the day's earlier events taken into consideration –the last few weeks' events taken in consideration. Maybe he was going crazy? Going through what he had, and having what he had in his cabin, could render any man with more than just mental disorders.

But regardless of reason and situation, it felt good to laugh.

"No, I suppose you are right." He smiled at the merman who had dived under water, regarding him with round eyes through the glass, looking sceptical, as well as a little guarded. Alfred let him be and returned to his book. He was feeling strangely light of heart all of a sudden. It was as though the laughter had unwound a heavy burden from his shoulders he had not even noticed he was carrying before it was gone.

This was probably also why he -after another bout of silence and ten pages of reading- again gazed upon the tailed man in the tank.

"You know," he said after simply gazing on without a word for a few minutes. He had a thoughtful look on his face, and spoke slowly, weighing his words as he went. "You are a lot different from what I expected you to be." The merman's expression went from sceptical to hesitantly curious, though did not lose its guarded factor. Alfred pulled a hand through his hair, letting the book tip backwards so it landed with a soft thud on the duvet and rested, cover down, in his lap.

"You react to the things I say," he turned a little in the bed so he could look directly at the merman. "And to what happens around you." He paused a little, the merman still submerged, but Alfred could see that he was listening. "You feel."

The merman's gills spread out, a small steam of bubbled escaping them, as he rolled his eyes. Alfred laughed, though gently this time, his eyes soft with remembrance of the night before. "Yes, you told me so, I know." His voice was low.

He observed the merman closely. Somewhere, the part in the back of his mind that notices such things, told him that the changing of guards would happen soon and that he was going to be very tired in the morning. Alfred rose. The merman kept close watch but did nothing else to cause alarm, so Alfred pulled in a soundless breath and began to cross the floor.

His naked feet made soft whispering sounds when they met and left the wood. He soon stood in front of the tank. He looked down. The merman had barely moved, so the water surface was still, only slightly altering his view of the man below. Then, slowly, not letting go of the merman with his eyes, he crouched down, leaning one hand on the wooden edge as he did.

He sat in front of the glass, looking straight in at the merman. They were almost at perfect eyelevel.

"You," Alfred said gradually. "Merpeople and humans are not as far apart as we make them out to be, are they?" The merman did not reply. He did not move either, did not blink, only gazed back at Alfred. And Alfred looked back, for some reason not feeling the slightest bit afraid or unsteady as he let himself dive into the deep emeralds that seemed to last forever.

"Do you have a name?" he asked finally, and this time he got a clear reaction from the merman. He tensed, eyes widening a little, and then, though Alfred for a brief moment thought he would turn and flee from him, the merman nodded, albeit slowly. Alfred smiled warmly.

"My name is Alfred Jones. What is yours?"

For the longest while silence was the only thing that followed his words, still Alfred did not feel discouraged. He felt warm and comfortable inside, waiting patiently, for he knew, even if he had no proof or telltale sign, that he would be answered. And sure enough, after a time he knew not the length of, the merman opened his mouth and spoke through the water and glass,

"Arthur."


AN. First off: I hit 72 reviews! :D I was so happy for reaching over 70 before chapter 7. :3 Thank you so much people!

Secondly: To my little anonym reviewer who named him/herself FD. I looked it up. "I'm happy", or something, right? :3~ I wanted to translate to "I'm content", but google translate insisted on "I'm glad". So I went with something in the middle. Yes I'm indecisive. X) Now it's your turn: "Jeg er utrolig glad historie min gjør deg glad." Feed that little cookie to translate and see what you get, my little reviewer. ;3

Thirdly: People, be proud of me~ I think I was rather quick this time. :3 I was done with this chapter the 18th of March, and the 6th chapter was posted on the 10th. I spent 8 days on writing chapter 7. That's a record. *o* What took time however, was finding a new beta, 'cause I can't get hold of . Now the new beta I found doesn't answer me either, so this chapter isn't betaed either. ,_, Which means this could have been posted a long time ago. I'm so sorry.

Fourthly: The parts Alfred reads about mermaids is taken from a book I have, ""The book of pirates, a guide to plundering, pillaging and other pursuits".

-Oh, and last thing. Anyone out there who happens to live in England, Southend-on-sea, or around that area? I just got accepted into university~ Starting this autumn I'm gonna attend Essex East 15 university, acting and stage combat at the southend campus. Southend-on-sea, here I come!

(Long an… again… -_- I give up. From now they're always gonna be long! 8D And those of you who don't read all the way through are gonna get eaten by the ogres I hid under your beds~.)


Edit: This was later betaed by Misdreamus.


2nd Edit: Also betaed by geekisthenewawesome. Truly a wonderful beta. :3