Theme: smmonthly - Theme Three - Image ; #51 - Water
Genre: Romance/General
Version: Silver Millennium
Rating: PG

...
The Unintentional Siren
...

"Aren't you cold?" Zoicite had wrapped his heaviest cloak tightly around his shoulders, trying desperately to ward off the northern cold. Winter seemed to come earlier every year, the temperature more and more frigid.

And then there was Mercury, standing against the ship railing, barely protected by a thin, wool cover and a simple cotton dress. Her cheeks were red with cold, standing out starkly against her pale skin. She didn't seem to be bothered by the briskness, though. Her eyes were closed, her face thrust into the salty breeze.

"I'm always cold," Mercury answered at length, her tone matter-of-fact.

She was right (as always). Her skin was always just a little on the abnormal side, chilly against his warm, rough hands. Sometimes he thought she had ice in her veins instead of blood.

Slowly, Zoicite wrapped his cloak around them both, pressing her cold, small body against the hot expanse of his chest, and captured her tiny hands in his own. He encompassed her fingers like gloves, briefly wondering if he wasn't just holding ice cubes.

"What are you doing up here?" he murmured into her neck, pulling her hood back to breath warm air down her chilly shoulder. "You'll catch your death."

Mercury just laughed lightly. "I wanted to listen to the music."

Grunting, Zoicite glanced up and scanned the steadily looming shoreline. Their ship was coming around to port through the cliffs, and large, ominous rock beds rose out of the water, black under the overcast sky and the splashing sea water. However inhospitable the ocean seemed on that day, though, a dozen or so regional sirens still sat precariously on the rock ledge, howling into the wind at the top of their voices. Zoicite frowned and glanced back at the crew. He hadn't even noticed the cotton stuffed deep into their ears when he came up from the cabin.

"I thought we might see some this far north, but I was hoping we'd bypass this particular area," he sighed. "Damn weather."

Mercury glanced up at him, her blue eyes filled with wonder and awe. "You don't think they're amazing?"

"I think they're rather ugly," smiled Zoicite, gazing out again into the waves.

These were not warm water mermaids. Northern sirens had rather long, poorly formed faces and lank, limp hair. Their scales looked slimy and dull. They weren't anything to really gawk at, unless you were unfortunate enough to find yourself under their spell. Without their magic, they were like large, ugly fish with bagpipes for lungs. Zoicite winced at their persistence.

"Well, I think they're amazing," said Mercury decisively.

"What ever for? Don't you have them on Mercury? Aren't you largely a water people?"

Mercury smiled up at him, her expression gentle and patient. "You've been reading too many fairytales," she said. "My planet does have water, but it's contained in shallow, large plains. Flowing water is only found in fountains and plumbing." Her eyes went back out to the sirens singing on the rock. "Our water is tied up in our ceremonies. Without our magic, there would be no water on Mercury. This is why I love your oceans. They're wild. Natural. Untouched." She smiled, but it seemed painful. "There isn't much about life outside of Earth that is natural."

Thoughtfully, Zoicite squeezed her hands, and was secretly pleased to find them lukewarm to his touch. "I would love to see your planet."

Mercury just hummed her acknowledgement. They were quiet for a moment, feeling the rocking of the ocean and listening to the cries of the crew as they wildly gestured to one another to prepare the ship for its last few miles into land.

"They can't hear each other," said Mercury suddenly.

"What?"

"The crew. They can't hear each other. They plugged their ears hours ago, before we saw land." She glanced up at Zoicite, bemusement written across her face. "Aren't sirens supposed to be deadly to men? I've read your lore. They drive men crazy with their song. Why aren't you affected?"

Zoicite seemed only mildly concerned, his shoulders shrugging. "Perhaps my magic makes me immune," he mused.

"That could be true." Mercury appeared distracted and skeptical. Her mind was already whirring with questions.

Smiling Zoicite pulled her closer. "Or maybe," he said, his voice low and husky. "Maybe I'm all ready captured in a siren's spell and walking to my doom."

Mercury blushed. "Oh, don't say that. How morbid."

"I thought it was romantic," Zoicite grinned.

Laughing, they surrendered their spot, and walked hand in hand towards the comfort of the cabins down below. The men above, riding the waves, were left to the siren's song.