It was a beautiful day with the sun shining high and warm sand beneath her feet. Bea stood apart from the bustling crowd of people attempting to rescue three beached whales. She had hurried down to help early in the morning when she spotted them from her small flat.
After hours of earnest efforts pouring buckets of water on their dry skin and providing any assistance she could, Bea found herself pushed aside by what she perceived as "pretty people" adorned in designer clothes, makeup, and expensive sunglasses. They seemed more concerned with being seen as saviors rather than genuinely helping the whales.
In the cool shade of the jetty, Bea's eyes were drawn to a young turtle ensnared in a net, struggling for freedom. Without hesitation, she moved towards the distressed creature and dropped to her knees. Her baggy white shirt billowed around her as she splashed into the water, determined to rescue the trapped turtle.
Her soft crooning filled the air as she delicately tried to untangle the turtle. The net seemed to have held him captive for a long time, its tight grip cutting deep into his skin.
A tall man, the most gorgeous, sun-kissed man she had ever seen crouched beside her in the surf. His captivating golden eyes met hers, and he reached out with a small blade to cut the turtle free. Bea couldn't help but admire the way his long strong fingers deftly untangled the turtle and released him into the sea.
Bea blushed as she felt herself starting at his forearms, strong tanned and adorned with what appeared to be Polynesian tribal tattoos. Grateful for his assistance, she managed to whisper a heartfelt "thank you," too shy to meet his gaze a second time.
"You're an unusual woman, to help something so small, when there is much more impressive creatures to assist" His voice was rough but strong, it washed over her like warm water on a smooth stone. She struggled to her feet, embarrassed by her t-shirt that clung to her chubby stomach and sides, Feeling self-conscious in front of this Adonis.
""I was helping earlier, but then it became overwhelming and I started to feel like I was in the way. The little one is just as important" Bea blushed again annoyed that he was judging her.
A small huff escaped her lips as she turned her back on him and started towards home. Annoyed that she was made to feel so inferior to these beautiful people.
A smile turned up one side of his mouth as he watched her struggle to walk through the sand. He jogged up beside her, large bare feet steady on the shifting sand and brushed his fingers against her arm to get her attention. Warmth flooded through her from the touch and she stumbled surprised and he laughed, catching her.
"Seems like even someone as kind as you can have a temper," he remarked with amusement, his eyes dancing mischievously.
"I'm a Hufflepuff, not a bloody saint," she grumbled, annoyed by her clumsy reaction to him, her heart racing from the way his arms had felt around her as he caught her when she stumbled. Why was he even bothering to talk to her? She steadied herself and pushed her fringe out of her eyes as the wind whipped around her.
He watched her intently as she gathered the long flowing skirt that tangled around her legs and began making her way towards the grassy area beyond the dune.
For a moment, he hesitated, feeling a strange connection with this woman. There was nothing else that needed to be said, but he was not ready to go home. Home to the tantrums, flattery and political maneuvers, always trying to keep one square ahead of checkmate.
"Arthur, we came to return the ocean mothers to the sea we should do so, and then we can return home,"
His eyes landed on a lithe woman with long pale blonde hair that flowed down around her waist. A dark green dress ended just above her knees and her angelic face.
The woman spoke a few words in a musical language, and Arthur's rugged features furrowed in mild irritation. With a brusque response in the same melodious tongue, he conveyed his annoyance.
Undeterred by his demeanor, she gently slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, leading him away from the beach. As they approached the water's edge, Bea looked back and frowned. It suddenly made sense—Arthur and the enchanting woman were metahumans, beings with extraordinary abilities beyond those of ordinary humans. Their connection to the ocean was evident, as they glided into the water with a grace that was supernatural.
Bea couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as she observed their effortless harmony with the sea. They were like elemental spirits, at one with the ocean.
Transfixed, she watched as their hands lifted, summoning forth large bubbles of water that rose from the depths. With a mesmerizing choreography, they orchestrated the return of the whales to their home. The pair left quickly then, leaving the crowd of people starting open mouthed after them.
Bea turned to make her way back home and felt a slight annoyance at the sticky sweat clinging to her skin. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice that Arthur had hesitated, his gaze lingering on her retreating back for a fleeting moment before he vanished into the depths with his companion.
Unbeknownst to Bea, in that brief moment of hesitation, Arthur had been drawn to her in a way that was unfamiliar and alarming. There was something about her that sparked a curiosity deep within him, a connection that he didn't understand and the memory of their brief encounter would linger in Arthur's thoughts for days.
Arthur found himself in another one of the seemingly endless diplomatic meetings, this time with the fish clan. They expressed their discontent with the size of their libraries and sought assistance with something, but Arthur's mind struggled to retain the details. These negotiations always tested his patience, and his thoughts tended to wander, seeking escape from the tedious affairs of state.
With a slight shift in his seat, he absentmindedly scratched the back of his head, attempting to bring his focus back to the speaker. His wandering thoughts, which used to be pleasantly aimless, now seemed to have a definite direction and that direction was not one he should be focused on. He couldn't help but think about the woman on the beach he had encountered. Despite trying to dismiss it, the memory of her lingered, and he questioned why he had bothered to talk to her. She was rounded, plump and relatively plain, nothing to the siren he was betrothed to.
Mera, the woman he was set to marry, had undeniable beauty and a sexual allure that could captivate any man. On the surface, she seemed like the ideal match for him - intelligent, from a royal lineage, and politically astute. The council and advisors celebrated the match, but Arthur felt a growing disconnect within himself. As beautiful and alluring as Mera was, she lacked a deeper understanding of what truly mattered to him. Their union which had always been born from convenience and politics was starting to seem more and more distasteful.
He had kept a casual watch on the stretch of the ocean near where the whales had beached themselves. They were all safely returned to their home and travelled far to the east heading for cooler waters. The time which he could fool himself by saying he was keeping watch over the area for their welfare was a week since passed and he refused to admit to himself that it was just a matter of time before he would travel back there.
He felt it then, her feet slid into the ocean, it was late most people in the world above would be sleeping. His head involuntarily turned in the direction of her intrusion into the water.
It was the first time she had touched the sea since their encounter, a few warm drops struck the surface and he knew she was crying. Excusing himself from the meeting which had drawn on late into the night he sped onwards before he had time to think too deeply about his actions.
Bea padded along the rough surface of the jetty, the late hour casting a serene stillness over the surroundings. Any other visitors to the jetty had long since left for their homes, leaving her alone. Her hair was un-brushed, and she wore old oversized pajamas, damp with sweat from the hot night. Gripping the rail, she descended the steps toward the waterline, where she sat and dipped her feet into the cool ocean.
The soothing sensation of the water against her skin and the salty tang in the air brought her a much-needed sense of peace. With her eyes closed, she leaned her head against the balustrade, allowing a few tears to slip down her face and mingle with the water below. The impending move weighed heavily on her mind, coupled with a lack of sleep and the stifling heat had left her overwhelmed.
The soft moonlight illuminated her face, and he approached her carefully, not wanting to startle her but eager to be near her once more. As he sat beside her on the step with a wet squelch, Bea's heart raced, unsure about the safety of being alone with this mysterious man in the middle of the night.
"I'm so sorry; I didn't know that anyone else was here," she stammered, standing up and taking a step back but regretting the distance she had created between them.
As he stood there, facing her, he chastised himself inwardly. He should have announced himself earlier, aware that he had made her uncomfortable.
Looking up at her as she climbed the stairs, he felt an undeniable connection. The words that escaped his lips came from the awkwardness of someone who hadn't spent much time conversing with others.
"Tears do not fall under the sea, they are simply washed away," he said, wincing inwardly at how his words sounded.
He had been raised by a single father. Followed by awkward years at school with few friends, which had ended early when he dropped out. His father and the men of Seyofjord were the only people he felt truly at ease with. Despite this he usually had little problem talking to women, who were always eager for his company.
Bea turned and looked down at him. Her thoughts were racing - How was this guy so sexy? No one should look that good.
"I don't know if that is incredibly beautiful or terribly sad," she said, her words full of empathy.
"That pretty much sums up Atlantis," he replied, offering a glimpse of the complexities of his world.
Bea didn't want to dwell on her tears or the reasons behind them. Instead, she shifted the conversation to a different, safer topic. "Do you know if the turtle we freed has fared well?" she asked with genuine concern.
He chuckled warmly, putting her at ease. "He is doing very well; I took him back to my home. He talks of nothing else but your kind assistance. It is getting a little tiresome!"
A blush crept over her cheeks, and she felt a sense of excitement in his company. Despite her better judgment, she found herself drawn to him, experiencing a mix of emotions—curiosity, exhilaration, awe, and attraction, all wrapped into one intoxicating blend.
"You can talk to animals?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Aquatic animals only and they don't talk as you would understand it. They communicate in images and feelings," he explained.
Bea sighed wistfully, "That would sure make my job easier..."
"What do you do for work?" he asked, curious as to why talking to aquatic animals would be helpful.
"I'm an environmental researcher, I specialize in the ocean and coast," the little smile that danced on her lips betraying her love for her work.
"A noble endeavor," he replied and an awkward silence descended between them, she was afraid he would hear the sound of her racing heart over the gentle ocean waves.
"I should be getting home..." Her voice trailed off and she looked back towards the shore.
"Do you live nearby? Let me walk you home," he offered.
Bea couldn't decide if she was annoyed or touched by the gesture. "I managed to get here quite well on my own," she replied, her tone shorter than she intended.
He closed the distance between them and rested his hand respectfully on her lower back with slight pressure. "Please?"
His presence was enticing, and she found herself drawn to the idea of spending a few more minutes with him. Her resolve weakened, and he smiled as she nodded her consent and mentally scolded herself; this man was the sort your mother warned you about. Mysterious and obscenely attractive he was a walking red flag, but she was moving soon - to Iceland, she would likely not see him again. So what did it matter if he knew where she lived?
They walked in silence, Arthur still at a loss of what to say. He had felt a surge of protectiveness as his hand fitted against the small of her back a desire to keep her safe and never let anything cause her to cry again.
They stopped at the front gate of her rundown apartment block "This is me," She smiled at him and headed up the path to the door.
Before she disappeared, he couldn't resist teasing her, "Will you tell me your name, or shall I just call you Hufflepuff, not a bloody saint?"
Her giggle took him by surprise, he found it endearing and oddly captivating.
"My name is Bea, and you are... Arthur?"
He nodded and she turned the front door handle vanishing inside the darkness. He knew without a doubt he would be visiting the waters near her home more often.
Mera would be less than thrilled with him spending more time with the land dwellers. He groaned inwardly as he sped through the water towards home. An unhappy Mera was not a pleasant companion.