"Sir!" A man in the boat called dressed in the blue outfit of the British Navy. A look that summoned up way too many memories but sometimes it was easier to stay in the sea. The sea was always home with its sweet call and the unfathomable dark waters. To swim with sharks and whales and all manner of sea creatures. Most ran from the merpeople in the drive to escape a powerful predator. For when manflesh was in short supply the flesh of fish would do. They were a carnivorous species after all. "To have a mermaid follow us would send the men into a frenzy!" The man continued with a smooth face and dark eyes full of fear.

Though every eye was on her including the molten silver of the man that had some destiny on the sea. A burning fire that was unfulfilled and calling. It itched at her and made her skin prickle. The man who she had saved opened his mouth to respond with furrowed eyebrows. Anger was obvious in his cheeks and his clenched fist. "Please bring me aboard," she whispered and held up one slim hand. The brewing conflict faded as all eyes turned to her. The men dressed in blue all tensed as they stared at her face. The supernatural beauty had them wanting to relax and submit to her wiles but instinct fought against it. Perhaps their military training helped strengthen their wills. Silver eyes flickered to a man dressed in all black. The one who had followed her without a moment's hesitation.

Loyalty to his employer first and foremost even as his craggy face never smiled. Dark eyes and tan skin behind a face almost formed of stone. "Mr. Mercer," the raspy voice of Cutler Beckett broke the lapping of the sea against the rowboat. The man moved to hold out a hand for her and she set her hand on the black sleeve of his jacket. The rough skin of his palm graced against her wet flesh as he lifted her into the rowboat. His own muscles tensed and he was stronger than he appeared as her fin began to clear the water. Though it had been months since she forced the fin to recede. Gone was the golden fin and instead slim flawless legs took its place.

Except in the pale golden light of the fire specks of gold ran up and down her legs. The sparkling of scales as she moved to sit next to the man she rescued. His breathing was ragged from the pain no doubt in his ribs. Her nudity was another divisive factor as half the men stared at her. Some in lust and some in infatuation. She almost missed the stare between Cutler and Mercer before a black coat was settled over her body. Her hands moved it over herself before a hand drifted to the wooden rowboat. Cassia found the row boat to be an odd situation to feel. Her fingers ran over the rough wood before a hand rested over her own. The warmth of the hand and the feel of skin on hers made her glance into liquid silver eyes. The ringing musical quality of destiny twirled around him. He was special and she wondered if her mother had felt the same when Alexander Morgan fell into her clutches. Resistant to the allure of a mermaid and polite enough to ask her for help.

She had heard the stories many times as she grew up betwixt sea and ship. His finger twinned in-between her own and her back relaxed. His face was drawn and dirty through pain but his eyes stayed sharp as silence settled around them. The ocean moved and the sharks ate among the dead of the destroyed ship. Until they had gone to the new ship that rested anchored nearby with a hustle and bustle of men. The blue coats slightly irritated her as the boat moved to join the bigger ship. Cutler Beckett was alive and mostly well to rejoin his people. She felt the urge to return to the sea as the boat was raised to attach. "Mr. Beckett," a gruff voice of an older man called with a contingent of men behind him.

Only two were dressed without the navy blue coat. She stood partly behind the man who held her hand. The black coat went to her knees as she pulled it more over herself. "Captain," his voice was rough as his legs shook from holding his weight. "I thank you for the speedy rescue. Is there any place I can rest from my wounds?" The man who had followed her directions to find his boss and gave her his coat stood at the other side blocking her from sight.

"Of course," the Captain called with a smile that did not reach his eyes. A tension rested amongst the crew suddenly but she knew she was not the issue. Or, at most, not the main issue to be talked about. Most knew exactly what she was if they did not want to outright say it. She knew from experience the further inland people went the less they believed in supposed myths. "Let my doctor look at your wounds and you may take my cabin before we reach Calabar," the captain said as his hand motioned to an older man behind him. The eyes of the captain landed on her with a question or refusal thick in the air. The superstition of a woman on board a ship was nothing new in this case. Though her father's crew had been a lot more understanding.

"She stays with me," Cutler Beckett barked out an order. Like his namesake it was a sharp one. Her eyes moved between the man she had saved and the captain. The navy all but buckled under the command and she tilted her head in interest. The brown locks falling over her shoulder as they dried in the crisp night air. It had been many phases of the moon since she had assumed the form of a human. Her legs shook from the feeling of having to remember to walk. "No one is allowed to threaten or harm her," he added as his hand tightened over her own. Possessive and protective over her as Mercer crossed his arms over his chest. As if daring them to refute his boss's order. She wondered more on who exactly Cutler Beckett was besides the destiny he held in the sea.

"As you say, sir," the Captain said with a dip to his head. It was interesting to watch but she followed the man as he limped slowly to the captain's cabin with as much grace as possible. Her and Mercer followed as the night sky twinkled above them before they left the ship for the cabin. A table, bookshelf, map, and bed sat in the spacious cabin. The old man followed as well but she took her place to look over the bookshelf. Her fingers ran over the spines of many different books in obvious interest. Her eyes moved to track the old man as he helped Cutler remove the dirty clothes he was in.

The purple bruising on his chest only highlighted the old scars over his skin. Some were scars she had seen many times before. Slices and stabs with sharp implements. Her eyes caught the cold face of Mercer as he rested his back against the desk watching the doctor work. "You must take the time to rest, Mr. Beckett," the raspy voice of the old doctor said to him. "Your wounds will need to heal but you should come out just fine. I'll have the galley bring you up food to nourish you." She watched the doctor leave as he shot her a stare. His eyes resting on the golden scales on her legs or perhaps her obvious nudity under the jacket.

"Leave us," Beckett ordered sharply to the man who had followed her directions. To save a man stuck on water and on the precipice of death. Molten silver eyes and brown hair rested in his eyes. Tiredness and pain broke up his face in an unpleasant expression as she stepped closer. The rocking of the boat took some time for her to get her sea legs. To get used to her legs instead of her fin was another issue. "Are you hungry?" He asked and she tilted her head in curiosity. His tone of voice seemed lighter than the sharp order he gave previously.

"And if I wanted to eat one of the crew?" She asked in a tease as she stepped closer to his sitting form. The black jacket still around her smelled of sweat and gunpowder. It was uncomfortable but she was sure he would not appreciate her walking around without garments. Humans and their odd desire for modesty. She watched his face twist in some form of a smile and a chuckle slipped past chapped lips. Before he twitched in obvious pain.

"As long as you do not eat the cook," he whispered as he leaned back. "Perhaps the cabin boy?" Her eyes lit up in obvious humor at his joke. This man was different from other humans she had met. Not categorized like many others had been. Pirate men and Navy personnel were almost similar in how they treated the mermaids. She had been used to the almost expected lust of the men. It was his resistance to his baser nature that drew her attention. The twitch of pain and his hand on his chest had her pushing him back to relax against the bed. A suggestion he followed with barely any resistance. "Can you eat the food of a human?" He asked and she smiled at him.

"Of course I can," she whispered with a faint chuckle as her body sat on the cot next to him. The prickle of facial hair tickled her palm as she caressed him. "It is just easier to feed on raw flesh and fish," she explained as she watched him lean into her touch. The fire in his being fluttering under the surface as something drew her interest. The feel of destiny and difference drawing her interest. He was different. That was what she decided he was. Different. Strong of will and intelligent which was very familiar. Almost nostalgic. Silver eyes hid behind his eyelashes as her fingers ran through the brown hair.

He was young but not close to a young lad with no sense. A man in his prime and filled with strength. Green eyes lightened at seeing a scar near his shoulder. A slice that was raised from a weapon made of jagged metal. Or slightly blunted. Cassia's eyes turned sad at the look of such a thing as her finger caressed the raised skin. His hand wrapped around her own as his eyes shot open to look at her. His eyes were tense and so was the tight grip on her hand until his eyes lessened from the sharp defensive look at seeing her. The fact he avoided looking at her body should not have been as adorable as it was. "Apologies, my lady," he whispered as the hand tightening around her fingers shifted to pull it to his lips.

"So much pain," she whispered as she relaxed into the feel of his lips on her hand. The heat of the cabin was almost uncomfortable along with the jacket but her hair only covered so much. Humans and their desire for modesty would always surprise her. But they did not need sea water to survive or the animalistic nature of the mermaids. "You still dream of it?" She asked him and his eyes flicked to her as he ran her hand over his cheek. The affectionate touch was relaxing and intriguing as she watched him. Fire and destiny coiled behind silver eyes and pale skin.

"Why do the legends never speak of the perceptive gaze of mermaids?" He asked instead in obvious deflection though he answered her either way. An answer without a verbal statement was still one. Horrible dreams tainted by memories of pain inflicted in life. Did that change the man in front of her? A lust for more infused him and a desire for...her thoughts were cut off by a clearing of a throat. Green-blue graced upon a young lad holding a tray with the powdered wigs of the British on his head. Another fashion or trapping of vanity she never understood.

The silver eyes of her sailor sharpened on the man as he dropped her hand. The smell of cooked food wafted from the tray. "I did not say you could enter," the man on the bed snapped out as he moved to sit. His teeth gritted in his irritation and pain as she stayed on the side of the bed next to him. Her body was mostly covered though the gold scales dancing down her legs were obvious in the flickering lantern. The boy's eyes could not help but be drawn to her in obvious attraction. The allure of a mermaid was strong which made the man laying next to her all the more intriguing. Not many had the strength of will to refuse or to resist their more animalistic nature to claim.

"I-I am sorry, sir," the boy called out and she saw the tray almost shake in his hands. "The medic ordered me to deliver it post haste." The form of the rescued sailor motioned to the table with a sharp gesture. A dismissal in his every action though the boy stared too long at her half naked form. Cutler Beckett's hands tightened as did the clench in his jaw. Her gaze was only on the anger in the man's emotions as two fingers ran down the slight prickle of facial hair on his chin. Silver eyes met her own as he surrendered into her ministrations as the anger relaxed from his body.

The sound of boots on wood had the man's gaze slipping to the boy still in the cabin. The feel of his stare was obvious even as she did not look. "Leave, boy," Cutler Beckett ordered sharply and the cloudy gaze of the lad cleared to show fear. She watched him all but flee the cabin with a slight smile on her lips. "Perhaps I should let you eat the cabin boy after all," he whispered close to her ear and she chuckled slightly before slipping from the bed. Her body dancing from the half hearted attempt to keep her near. His eyes watched her as she grabbed a bowl before giving a tentative sniff. It did not smell bad before stepping back to the bed.

"You need to eat, Cutler," she whispered with a smile as she sat next to him. "Why do they fear you so?" He did not answer for a couple moments as he took to her advice and ate some of the food slowly. Silver eyes met her own as his back rested against the wood of the ship. Bruised, scarred, and unyielding is what he reminded her of. A reminder of her father was obvious in his bearing though they were different. As if the sun was compared to the moon. Alexander Morgan had been warm and gregarious though blessed with a sharp wit. This man was different in so many ways though similar.

"I am the Governor of Calabar for the East India Trading company," he answered finally and she backed out of fond memories. The water and sun as she danced upon her father's ship with her mother in tow. The laughter of the crew dancing with the waves of the sea and the streaks of heat. The East India Trading Company was well known even to her. She tilted her head curiously but kept her mouth shut to a firm line. "Do you know what that is?" He asked and her hair moved in her nod. Brown hair with streaks of red and blonde shined in the light as much as her scales. But the flag with their symbol was more known to her as well as the sound of their cannonballs.

"The pirates fear you," she answered, but a whisper and another deep laugh left the man laying on the bed. The pain from the action had him gasping at the end but she saw his face alight in obvious joy and amusement. As her fingers soothed him he laid back against the wood in exhaustion. As if the wind in sails died down to nothing. His eyes dulled with the pained exhaustion and she watched him with only concern.

"As they should," his voice answered in a sleepy, breathy whisper. His body moved to ease into sleep as she took the bowl from him. Food and rest was the only thing to heal his bruised or broken ribs. "One day I will destroy piracy," his voice added in sleepy whispers and she watched him fall into the grip of sleep. The ship moved ever onward and she moved to curl next to him. His heart beat into her ear in a soothing rhythm that was its own music as she drifted off. Staying awake with him for so long exhausted her more than she considered. Even if it was too warm on this ship in the guise of humanity she drifted softly to sleep.

The sun trickled through the windows to the cabin as the ship creaked and groaned. She was alone on the bed with the black jacket pulled as a blanket around her. Bleary eyes looked at the man who slowly pulled a razor through the small amount of facial hair on his chin. The brown hair was cut short to his head and drifted lazily in the air as the open window drifted in the smell of seawater. It smelled of home as she sat up on the bed to watch his hands move with rhythmic motions. The scrape of the razor washed away as she observed him. His back was to her and the scars of his past covered his skin as his mind drifted away. She could see it in his every action as his eyes faded to the cloudy grey of his own thoughts. As she stepped towards him his eyes brightened into cognizance as he met her through the mirror. "How was your sleep, Cassia?" He asked her as he washed off the remainder of soap.

"It is always odd to sleep as a human," she answered honestly and looked out the open window to stare at the sea. Her heart called for it but she knew her limit. How long she could stay on her legs and on land. Being on a ship helped stave off the magic that forced her back into the sea. "I have done it before on my father's ship," she added in a murmur at the recollection as she observed him slowly clean himself. Before he pulled the white shirt over his bruises with the slow movements of obvious pain. Nothing at all like the clothes she had once seen for they were more fashionable. She did not attempt to help and smiled softly at him as he sat at the desk. The powdered wig on the desk seemed to be the next step in him taking on the trappings of his life. Soon their small connection would fade as they each went back into their roles.

"You mentioned your father before," he said as his eyes looked at her, stepping close to him. Her fingers dragged over the smooth wood of the desk as she glided closer to the man. Her heart ached at the fact she would need to leave him very soon. "What was his name? Where was he from?" He asked her as he held out a hand. A hand that was calloused from training she reckoned as her hand softly touched his own. The image of the flash of steel and the smell of gunpowder entered her nose. These hands were trained to deal death, she realized.

"Alexander Morgan," she answered as her green-blue eyes took in the action of his hands cupping her smaller hand in between both of his. Warmth and curiosity filled the both of them she supposed as they danced around the obvious issue. Or the attraction settling in. For all men were attracted to a mermaid but he did not let it control him. That drew her own interest but he had asked another question attempting to learn who she was. "He had been born in Port Royale I believe," she added softly in a whisper as she traced his own movements. "I had never been to the land of my father."

"A colony of the British Crown," he said as he pulled her hand to his lips in an echo of the night before. Until they had been rudely interrupted by the cabin boy. Her eyes slipped shut at the feel of his lips gracing the inside of her palm. It was not an unwelcome feeling and she found herself itching more for this intimacy. He moved his mouth away from her skin and she buried the urge to seek out more from him. "No other family?" He asked and she shook her head in answer.

"We do not consider family in the same way as humans do," she responded as she thought back to the other mermaids. Emotional attachment was folly even if some hunted together. Much like the sharks they attacked, maternal feelings only took them so far. "Do you have any other family in your heart?" She asked him instead and he paused as her fingers ran over the now smooth skin of his cheeks. She found she missed the more disheveled feeling of the prickle of facial hair.

"A sister is the only one I had cared for," he stated simply with a tone to try and block the feelings. An empty well of sorrow in his every word. "A mother as well. Both died from the mistreatment of my father. I find myself almost feeling empty now. I cannot summon enough emotion to cry for my sister." Perhaps the whispered confession would have been concerning among the humans but for her it was a statement she felt as well. Outliers and alone in this world.

"Sometimes death is its own freedom from pain, Cutler," her voice responded softly and he stared up at her. Grey eyes turning silver as his thoughts were unknown to her. Cold and aloof in his own way she could see the cracks forming in his being. He was different from other humans or at least unique that she had only met once or twice before in her life. His lips moved into a smile as her other hand joined the other to rest against his cheeks. The urge in her chest was uncontrollable as she moved her thumbs over his cheekbones.

"Is that what your mother said?" He asked and her smile turned sad at the piercing statement. He had cut to the heart of the matter quickly and she could not refuse it. Even if the question hurt a part of her it was an old wound. Rough fingers wrapped around her wrists and she felt his skin tense in preparation to pull her away. Instinct or some other ephemeral feeling made her move to seal her lips to his. He tensed under her ministrations but did not pull away. His lips moved to answer in kind and perhaps her inexperience was shown but she was a quick learner. He deepened the kiss by pulling her closer and running his tongue over the seam to her lips. They both groaned into the kiss and pulled back to share a breath. "Graced with a kiss from a mermaid," he whispered with red lips. "I hear that grants the ability to breathe underwater."

"That is just a myth," she answered with a teasing grin. His own lips quirked into a smirk but before he could answer a powerful knock distracted him. A sigh left him as he dropped her wrists and picked up the wig to cover the brown hair. Silver eyes watched her with a mix of lust and obvious interest. It felt irritating that they kept getting interrupted. "Are you sure I cannot eat some of the crew?" She asked and the man released a painful laugh as his hands picked up a slick black cane.

"Do not tempt me to acquiesce to all of your desires, my dear."