Chapter 8: The Mermaid's Trove

The depressive gloom of the morning began to lift as the sun burned away the fog. The daylight saturated the people with cheer and kindness as it did the earth with warmth. Children came out to play or go to school as shopkeepers made efforts to take their business outside, wanting to enjoy this gorgeous day like everyone else. Such was the effect a sunny day had on the inhabitants of such a peaceful and prosperous kingdom.

Everyone, that is, except its princess.

Melody's room looked like a galleon's powder magazine after someone decided to have a careless smoke in it. Clothes, jewelry, shoes, and other things were scattered everywhere. Some bore signs of being thrown, while others had been dropped without care. A pile of unopened presents sat in the corner, a thin layer of dust forming on them. The drawers of her wardrobe were opened to various degrees, bits of clothing hanging out in a tangled jumble. The bed sheets were an incomprehensible mess on the floor. The curtains to her window cozy and the balcony were closed shut, allowing only the thinnest ray of light inside.

Melody lay in her bed, dressed in her camisole and pantalettes. She had been sleeping since she cried herself to sleep last night, well over twelve hours ago. She went back to the campfire in her dreams, curling up in the bedroll and falling asleep. Though hours would pass in the waking world, to her it would be mere minutes in there.

The demon had not spoken to her that night, or on any other night since the party. She could not decide if she never wanted to hear it again, or wished with all her might that it would talk to her once more. She was not sure if she wanted solitude or companionship in the midst of her grief. She did not know what she wanted anymore and was unsure she cared either. The only thing she cared about was when she fell asleep beside that fire. It was only then that the pain would fade away, even if only for a little while. That brief respite from the hurt and loss was all she looked forward to.

A small beam of light snuck through the crack in her curtains to splash her face with sunshine. Melody groaned and rolled over to go back to sleep, but she was already starting to wake up. The world came back to her with all its woes and pains. Giving up the fight for sleep she grabbed her necklace from beside her bed and slipped it on. It felt wrong to not have it on now. She got out of bed and went over to her mirror, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she blinked.

It would not be exaggeration to say her reflection looked as bad as she felt. Her hair was tangled and dull instead of shiny and sleek. She gave up tying it back, allowing it to hang loose and messy. Several rogue strands hung down over her face, refusing to stay hooked behind her ears. Her clothes were heavily wrinkled from continuous days of use. Her pale complexion enhanced the slight gauntness of her face. She had not bathed in almost a week, lending her skin an oily sheen.

But the most striking change was her eyes. There was no spark to those ocean blues that used to shine like sunlight on the waves. They were as empty, dull, and cheerless as she felt inside. Her lids were heavy as the lines developing underneath them. Dark half-moons were clear signs of the exhaustive depression she felt, and her shoulders sagged with the burden of it.

Melody dragged herself back into bed and curled up. She would eventually have to come out of her room, but she wanted to hold that off as long as possible. Only reality awaited her outside, and her reality was a painful one. There was no physical pain, yet she had never been so hurt in her life. It felt like a gaping hole in her chest, as though her heart had literally been rent from her. Every breath, every movement of a limb, every thought was a herculean effort. Her sadness was a terrible weight trying to crush her flat. She just wanted to sleep for the rest of her life. She wanted to feel numb so that she could not feel anything.

A small white rectangular box tied with a yellow ribbon lay at the edge of her bed. Melody grabbed it and held it close to her chest. It was now the most treasured thing William had given her, and she had not even opened it yet. She could not bring herself to do it. She felt so fragile, afraid the mere untying of the ribbon would break her in half.

Tears started to flow again as she remembered William's final moments. He was so scared, his eyes pleading with her not to let him leave. Just when they found a perfect moment together, and a promise of many more to follow, he was snatched away from her forever. An entire lifetime of love and its possibilities disappeared in seconds. All she had now were memories, a few small mementos, and a present she could not bring herself to open. She would have traded all of that and more to have him back.

The ringing of the town bell reached her ears. One by one the peals came to her room, stopping after the eleventh. By this time tomorrow William's funeral would be over. An empty coffin would be added to the crypt of Strihaven's royal family. The entire royal court would be there, as well as nobles from other kingdoms. No doubt the throngs of onlookers and mourners would be enormous, befitting of such a beloved prince.

But she would not be there. She would not even be able to send flowers to put on his coffin. King Willard would have her thrown in the dungeon and the key destroyed before he allowed her to do anything of the sort. The sadness built in her until it started to overflow in a series of quiet choking sobs, the tears leaking down onto her bed.

There was a soft knocking at her door. "Melody?" It was her mother.

Melody wiped her eyes and sat upright. "Yes?"

"Can I come in?" asked Ariel. "I need to talk to you."

Melody considered telling her to go away, but doing so felt like too much effort. And if she was being honest, she did not want to be alone. Not for a little while, at least.

"Okay," she answered.

Ariel came in and closed the door quietly behind her. "Did I wake you?"

Melody shook her head.

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm just fine," muttered Melody with sharp sarcasm, fixing at Ariel with an expression that told her exactly how stupid she thought that question was.

"Right, bad question. Sorry." Ariel went and sat on the edge of her bed. "Are you hungry at all?"

Melody shook her head again. How could she think about eating when her appetite was almost nonexistent? How was eating supposed to help her when everything tasted bland and empty? How could she feel hungry when she felt sick to her stomach every waking moment?

She scooted to join her mother on the edge of the bed, still holding the gift in her hands. Her mother pulled a few strands of her black hair behind her ear before gently rubbing her back. It was not much, but the touch made her feel a little better. It reminded her of the campfire, warm and secure.

"What did you want to talk about?" Melody asked, eyes never leaving the floor.

Ariel stopped her rubbing. "Your father and I met with your grandfather this morning. There's some changes you need to know about..."


As the traveler walked through Seahaven it came to the conclusion that the kingdom was nothing like what Kodama described.

It was so much better.

The streets were paved in cobblestone instead of dirt, beggars, and trash. Hand-carved and painted signs hung above the open doors of shops, their wares on display in grime-free windows with no need for protective iron grilles. Grocers and farmers selling fresh nutritious produce lined the streets. The smell of apples, oranges, peaches, and an assortment of other delicious fruits and vegetables hung in the air with baked breads and roasted meats. Horse-drawn carriages and carts clattered over the stones in time with the energetic click-clack of their hooves. Men and women dressed in clothes instead of rags and scavenged fabric went about their business as children ran laughing between them.

The traveler would have appreciated having its head on a swivel so it could look around freely. Had it known such a place existed in the world it would have come here years ago. Everyone was friendly and cheery and courteous to each other. It was impossible to go three seconds without hearing a hello or a greeting to a friend. Even the traveler got no small number of welcoming "hellos" and "good mornings" from strangers. Maybe the odd stare here and there, but not the wary, suspicious or spiteful glares it got in its former stomping grounds.

The only thing remotely reminiscent of the eastern kingdoms was the number of soldiers the traveler saw. There seemed to be an unnecessary abundance of them for such a peaceful place. It could barely go a hundred paces without seeing one. Not that it could have missed them. They were all dressed in blue tabards covering chain mail jackets, brown polished boots, and military berets of the same color as their tabard with a single pheasant feather in the left side. Most carried a spear in hand and a rapier at their side. Others carried long-swords or crossbows with a quiver of goose-fletched arrows on their backs.

The guards seemed nervous as well. Their eyes darted from person to person as though looking for someone. One stopped the traveler on its way into town when he saw the bokken but waved it through after a quick inspection revealed the weapon's non-lethal nature. The traveler was relieved he had not checked its pack. It would have been harder to explain the knives, much less the sword if it had decided to keep it. No one carried weapons here.

A group of small children raced towards the traveler, forcing it to step aside as they ran by in their game of chase. It could not remember the last time it saw children so happy or healthy. Orphans were bountiful in the east. Their parents were often dead or abandoned them. Most became "street rats" destined to become criminals, join with mercenaries and armies, captured and sold as slaves, or meet an early end at whatever hand Death dealt. There was not a child, adult, or even a dog that looked hungry or unwanted here.

The traveler watched a black-haired boy break from the group and run towards a heavyset bearded man. The resemblance between the two was obvious. The man plucked the boy from the ground, causing him to laugh as he was hoisted onto the man's shoulders. The two set off down the street, father and son both carefree as everyone else.

A pang of solemn nostalgia came over the traveler as it watched them walk away. Seeing them stirred up memories of its own parents. Being with them was one of the few times in its life it could remember being truly happy. It all felt so far away and long ago now.

The smell of roasted mutton hit the traveler's nose, making its stomach growl loudly. It started to take its pack off when it remembered there was no food in there. It gave the last of its meat to the dire wolves. Its stomach growled again. It was going to have to buy food. It shrugged its pack off and dug around inside, pulling out a pair of small deer leather purses. The quiet tinkling of stones could be heard as they shifted in its palm.

The traveler grinned. Kodama had given the traveler more than enough of his "shiny rocks" and "glass pebbles" for a bite to eat. Probably enough for two years' worth of bites. He considered the "pebbles" as useful as dirt clods and invited the traveler to take what it wanted. Not being greedy the traveler took only a handful of each, just enough to fill both purses.

It fished out a few of each and returned the purses to its pack. Shouldering it once more the traveler set off after the smell. It followed it around a corner to a whitewashed rectangular building with a brown shingle roof. There were a few amber tinted windows along the sides, through which it could see moving dark shapes. A steady column of white smoke rose from a red brick chimney. The sounds of people enjoying a midday meal and drink over conversation were readily audible through the door. It had all the makings of a tavern.

The traveler glanced at the sign. It read "The Mermaid's Trove" in ornate white painted lettering. A woman with a blue fish tail in place of legs lay languorously under the name, her curly blonde hair draped strategically over her chest as she smiled invitingly.

The traveler cocked its head, scrutinizing the strange creature adorning the sign. As a child its father told it all about the creatures of the world. There were the griffins that nested in high mountain peaks, cave basilisks that could turn men to stone with a glance, sphinxes that played dangerous games of riddles, and minotaur tribes that roamed over grassy plains. The oceans teemed with sea serpents that could crush ships with one coil of their titanic bodies, great leviathans sailors mistook for islands, and sirens with mystical tears that lured unsuspecting ships to the rocks before feasting on the unlucky victims. The traveler even encountered some of these creatures in the east.

But this demi-human adorning the sign? The traveler had never seen such a thing in all its travels, much less heard of one. And yet there was something familiar about it. The sense it had encountered one before, but as if in a dream.

The smell of food was even stronger now, and the traveler's stomach audibly reminded it why it was here. The traveler shifted the bokken against its leg to obscure it, stuffed the rocks into its pocket, and went inside.

The tavern was dark, but as the traveler's eyes adjusted to the shade the room came into clarity. It was at least fifty feet wide and three times as long. The floors, walls, and ceiling were dark aged mahogany. Several wooden support pillars ran up the middle of the room to the high ceiling. A figurehead of a scantily clad woman adorned the pillar closest to the door. She had curly blonde hair and a blue seashell brassiere. Her body was missing below the waist, clearly sawed off with care when she was removed from whatever ship she once belonged to. No doubt she was the inspiration for the sign outside. A variety of sailing and fishing implements lined the walls, including nets, harpoons, oars, and glass buoys of a colorful spectrum. Oil lanterns hung from the ceiling, throwing flickering orange light throughout the room. Dark wooden tables with checkered blue tablecloths were scattered throughout. A long bar lined the left side, the shelves behind it stacked with a plethora of metal mugs and dusty dark glasses of liquor. At the far back was a wood door presumably leading to the kitchen.

The energy of outside had carried over to the tavern's patrons. The place was packed with people and filled with their sounds. Sailors, farmers, craftsman, and other townsfolk sat round the tables enjoying hot meals, friendly games of cards, and sharing news and gossip. Men sat at the bar with mugs of mead and ale as they conversed. Young waitresses were bustling through the room with trays of food from the kitchen and drinks from the bar, making brief small talk with the patrons. Each wore a white headscarf and a white apron over their dresses. The sounds of cooks hard at work lay under the noise.

An aging bartender with a thick salt and pepper mustache and equally thick eyebrows was drying out a mug as he talked with a pair of sailors. He noticed the strange new addition to his customers and set the mug down, walking over to greet the traveler.

"Welcome t' th' Mermaid's Trove!" he said in a heavily accented bass as he wiped his hands. "What can I do fer ye?"

The traveler brought a hand to its mouth and faked a cough, and then rubbed its throat as it coughed, "Muto."

The traveler felt its vocal cords shift and loosen as the magic altered them, disguising its real voice.

"Sorry, I didn' catch that," said the bartender.

"Food and drink," said the traveler, its voice now deeper but still young. It sounded bizarre to its own ears, but it would do. "And plenty of it."

The bartender chuckled good-naturedly. "Ye've come t' th' right place then, lad! We got no shortage o' that! Ye look like someone who's come a long way. Not from round 'ere?"

"That's one way of putting it," said the traveler. "This is my first time in Seahaven."

The bartender grabbed the traveler's hand without asking, giving it a firm hearty shake. "Well then, lemme be th' first t' welcome ye t' th' kingdom! Name's John! John Douglas Kelly! This 'ere's me tavern! Who might ye be?"

"Horatio Oleander Octavius Drosselmeyer," spouted the traveler, making up the words off the top of its head.

John stopped shaking its hand. "Tha's…quite a name ye've got there, mister…em…?"

"Hood," said the traveler. "Just Hood's fine. H-O-O-D. It's my initials."

"Now that I c'n remember!" The bartender pointed to an empty table up against the wall. "Take that one there! I'll send Sarah o'er t' get yer order! Now…" He threw his towel across his shoulder. "There's a mite issue o' payment first. Need t' have somethin' upfront I'm afraid. Ye know 'ow it is. Someone comes in fer a drink, gets their sea legs on land, then tries t' leave wi'out payin' their dues. Not good fer business, aye?"

The traveler reached into its pocket and grabbed one of the rocks it had taken. "Will this do?"

John's jaw nearly fell to the floor when he saw the robin's egg-sized ruby lying in the traveler's palm. Its surface was polished to a glassy sheen, gleaming with rich red color like a droplet of blood.

"Bless me! I-I can't! That's too much!" he stammered, trying to keep his voice down. "Ye'd buy ten rounds o' drinks fer th' room on a good night wi' that! No, fifteen!"

"I'm planning to be here a long time," said the traveler as it put the jewel in his palm. "Just keep a tab open for me."

Jon stared at the ruby, considering whether or not to accept it, and then pocketed the jewel. "It'll be one whale o' a tab, lad, but fine by me! Oi, Sarah!"

One of the waitresses looked up from the table she was serving to see John waving her over. She quickly put the food down and hurried towards them.

The traveler looked her over as she approached. She could not have been past her early twenties. She had wavy brunette hair that seemed constrained by her headscarf. Her heart-shaped face was slightly thin, and there were tired lines under her chocolate brown eyes. She wore a simple drab green dress with long sleeves under her apron. There were signs it had been repaired multiple times.

"You called, John?" she said, weariness in her otherwise sweet voice.

"Show Hood here t' th' table o'er there. An' get 'im our best ale!"

"Of course." Sarah turned to the traveler, smiling kindly despite the wary curiosity evident on her face. "If you'll follow me, Mister Hood."

The traveler followed Sarah through the crowd to the table. It pulled out a chair next to the wall, placing the bokken and pack within easy reach. It doubted a fight was likely since the tavern bore none of the scars barroom brawls tended to leave, but it never hurt to be cautious. The seat afforded it a clear view of the room all the way to the door, and it could get out through a window if need be.

"If you don't mind my asking," said Sarah as she glanced at the traveler's wooden sword. "What's that?"

"It's called a bokken," said the traveler. It grabbed the object of interest and gave it a deft spin before holding it out for Sarah to examine. "Basically a wood sword without the sharp parts. Still hurts if you get hit."

"It's beautiful," Sarah said, briefly running her fingertips over the smooth dark wood. "Anyway, can I get you something to eat?"

The traveler looked around the room for the tastiest looking item. Men were eating everything from turkey to pork to large cuts of roasted beef. A particularly pleasant aroma drew its attention to a man eating a dish of pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions lathered in gravy. The traveler started salivating just looking at it.

"I'll have what he's got," it said, nodding towards the man.

"Coming right up. I'll have your drink out in a few minutes."

Before she could leave the traveler grabbed her wrist. It was so slender its fingers and thumb almost encircled it. Sarah quickly stopped, her face showing concern at its grip. "Is there something else?"

"When's the last time you ate a proper meal?" asked the traveler.

"Pardon?" said Sarah, taken aback by the question.

"When?" repeated the traveler, keeping its voice firm but not demanding. "I know a lotta women try for the slender look. But there's a difference between slender by choice and slender because you're hungry. So I'll ask again. When did you last eat?"

As though to prove the traveler's hypothesis Sarah's stomach growled loudly. She turned her face down to hide the embarrassed flush in her cheeks. "Last…last night," she answered sheepishly.

"How much?"

"A little bread and cheese. But John lets me have the leftovers from the kitchens! So you don't need to worry! I'm fine!"

The traveler frowned under its shemagh. It seemed even paradise had its share of hard luck for some people. It reached back into its pocket and grabbed one of the "shiny rocks." Kodama had a strong dislike of this soft metal because of its tendency to attract large numbers of humans, so he made sure to remove any he found. After his untold years upon the earth, he had literal mountains to spare.

The traveler set the piece in Sarah's hand. She gasped loudly when she saw the pea-sized nugget of pure gold resting in her palm. "I-Is that...?"

"Shhh!" hissed the traveler as it let go of her wrist.

Sarah covered her mouth to keep from saying anything else. She stared down at the gold, eyes filled with amazement as it sparkled in the lamplight. "But...why?" she whispered through her hand.

"Because I know how hunger feels, and I've seen too much of it," said the traveler. "I'm also buying your time."

Sarah frowned in confusion. "My time?"

"Just a half hour or so. For a chat. See, I'm new in Seahaven, so I'm hoping you could fill me in on–."

The tavern door swung open with a loud bang, interrupting the traveler and causing Sarah to flinch. The room got noticeably quieter, all attention going to the door at the disturbance.

Two giants among men entered. Their shoulders were wide as the door and faces just as square. Their entire frames were rippling muscles, making their seven-foot height even more imposing. They wore red shirts and tan pants complete with polished black leather boots. One was bald and clean-shaven with a gold ring in his left ear, while the other had a thick ginger beard and head of curly hair to match.

It was the man who followed after them, however, that immediately had the traveler's attention. His head barely reached the giants' shoulders, but his presence was more intense. He was dressed in a white and gold patterned doublet beneath a red jacket with frilled cuffs. His red pants were as spotless as his black leather boots. A polished rapier with an intricately engraved guard and a ruby in the pommel hung from a black leather belt with an ornate gold buckle. A pair of worn fencing gloves were tucked through the side of his belt. His shaven effeminate face put him in his mid-twenties, possibly older. His wavy blonde hair fell to his shoulders, free of the smallest tangle. He carried himself like someone of great importance and distinction. He looked the very definition of an immaculate nobleman.

His eyes, however, told a much darker story. The traveler had vision superior to any hawk or falcon. Even through its dark goggles and the slight gloom of the tavern it could make out the man's pale green eyes. They were as cold and ruthless as the metal of his sword. The traveler had seen those kinds of eyes before. They were the eyes of a villain, and one of the worst kinds–the type that feeds on the weak.

An immediate hush fell over the tavern. The mood turned from pleasantly vibrant to uncomfortably tense. Several of the patrons got up and headed for the door, giving the men a wide berth as they went past. If the men noticed they gave no indication. It served to solidify the traveler's instincts about him. This man was bad news, whoever he was.

"John!" barked the nobleman. His voice had an unpleasant strength to it, as though perfectly comfortable giving orders to people. The bartender nervously jogged over to greet his "guests," hands cleaning a mug with unusual vigor. The traveler did not remember his back being so hunched when he came to greet it. He looked like a frightened dog crawling towards a cruel master.

"Lord Richard! Uh...what c'n I do for ye on this fine day?" John asked nervously.

Richard, as the traveler guessed he was named, looked down at John over his nose with definite disdain. "A table. Now."

"C-certainly, sir. Right this way." John quickly scampered to a table near the end of the bar and began hurriedly wiping it down as Richard approached, flanked by the two giants. They had the presence of bodyguards with the temperament of poorly trained guard dogs. Lots of bark, adequate bite, and minimal discipline as to whom they should use their teeth on.

John pulled out Richard's chair for him as he sat down, getting not even an acknowledging nod. His men sat on opposite sides of him, their chairs creaking under the weight.

"Somethin' t' drink or eat, yer lordship?" asked John as he hurriedly put a new tablecloth down.

"Roast boar," said Richard flatly. "And have Sarah bring the food. You're better suited to the bar where I can't see you."

The traveler noticed Sarah stiffen at her name. Her hands started shaking visibly, face going a shade paler. It did not take a stretch of the imagination for the traveler to see that she was afraid of him. Or was that contempt causing her to shake? Perhaps both? It watched her fingers curl into tight fists, tendons straining on the back of her hands. That was definitely contempt.

"I'm afraid Sarah's preoccupied at th' moment," said John. "But I'd be more than happy t' serve ye personally."

The bald man rose out of his seat and grabbed John roughly by the shirt, pulling him within inches of his face. "Did the boss ask for you, grandpa?" he growled, his voice as unfriendly as the dagger at his side.

John looked as though he might cry. "N-n-no, sir."

"Then get the girl and get your mug out of our sight!" The bald man shoved John towards the bar, nearly causing him to fall over as he stumbled to get his balance. Richard smirked as he watched the terrified bartender run towards Sarah.

The traveler clenched its jaw, one corner of its mouth pulled into a scowl. It was no stranger to things like this in the east. Taverns there were hotbeds for criminals, and tavern owners and their staff quickly learned to keep their heads low or throw in with them. It was one of two reasons the traveler avoided such places in the eastern kingdoms. Whoever this Richard was, the traveler was already sure he was not as noble of a man as his appearance would have it believe.

John practically skidded to a stop at the traveler's table. "Sarah...!"

"No!" she hissed, shaking her head vigorously.

"Ye've got to!"

"I won't do it! He does this just to torment me!"

"I know, lass," John said apologetically. "But he only wants ye. What c'n I do?"

"Tell him no!"

"If I do he'll shut this place down!"

"He doesn't own it!"

"Ye know what I mean, Sarah! I can't lose th' trove! None o' us can! We've got families t' feed same as ye!"

"I'm waiting on that food," said Richard loudly. John winced as though he had been struck.

"Yessir! Jus' one moment!" he called back, a fake smile across his features. He whipped back to face Sarah. "Please, lass! I wouldn' ask o'erwise!"

Sarah looked over John's shoulder to the men. Richard gave her a sickeningly smug smile. The traveler saw her lip curl in disgust.

"Fine," she muttered dejectedly. She pocketed the gold in her apron before marching to the kitchen door.

"Who's sir high-and-mighty over there?" asked the traveler, nodding towards Richard.

"That there's Lord Richard Avitas," whispered John nervously as he wiped down the traveler's table. "One an' only member o' th' House o' Avitas fer ten years now. Member o' th' king's court. Owns a big tract o' land east o' 'ere. But don' let th' fine threads fool ye. Man's got th' charm of a fox, greed of a pig, an' cleverer than both put together."

"What's the story with him and Sarah?"

"Not really me place t' say, but…" John glanced at the kitchen door before continuing quietly. "Sarah's father took a loan from 'im 'bout five years ago. Then th' poor man ran into one misfortune after th' next. Lost most o' his fishin' fleet. Business partners bailed out. An' then he took ill. He fell be'ind on what he owed. Sarah quit her schoolin' an' started workin' 'ere t' keep 'em all fed, bless th' lassie's heart. Richard's been sapping away at 'em ever since. He's got an eye for the lass, too, an' I don' mean in a good way."

The traveler glanced back to Richard. The man was staring at the kitchen door like a cat watching a mouse hole, fingers drumming the table in anticipation. "Why doesn't anyone do something?"

"Ye think we don' want to?"

"I asked why you don't," said the traveler, its tone sterner than before.

"Cause Richard's got a way o' makin' people pay fer crossin' 'im! He's got nooses round more'n a few necks 'ere, not t' mention mine! Everyone that's stood up t' him has wound up broke or broken! Not t' mention he's–!"

John stopped as Sarah emerged from the kitchens with three plates of roast boar, mashed potatoes, and bread. Her jaw was clenched as tight as her steps. John let her walk past before returning to the bar. The traveler saw Richard's eyes follow her with predatory interest. It was like watching two carriages rolling towards each other with no way to stop the impending collision.

John returned to the traveler with a mug of ale. "I'm sorry ye 'ave t' see this, lad. I really am. This might be 'ard for ye, but take me advice–whatever 'appens, don' get yerself mixed in it. Richard's not a man ye can cross!"

The traveler leaned back in its chair, affording it a better view of Richard's table. It was about to pull down its shemagh when it thought better of it. The place needed less light before it went revealing parts of its face.

"Davoro," it whispered quietly, quickly pulling down its shemagh.

The flame in the nearby lantern flew out of it and into the traveler's mouth. The light around it weakened, obscuring its features in gloom. Satisfied with the new ambiance the traveler uncovered its mouth and quickly raised the mug. It swallowed down the bitter dark liquid with seven large gulps, making a note to order another when it got the chance. Alcohol had no effect on the traveler, and the ale would provide more sustenance than plain water could. Setting down the mug it pulled the shemagh back over its face, returning its attention to Sarah and Richard. It focused on their voices, letting its superb hearing pick out their conversation amidst the multitude of hushed voices.

"Ah, Sarah," said Richard, smiling with deceptive pleasure. "What a delight to see you again. You're looking lovely as ever."

"I know why you're here, Richard," she said sharply, avoiding his gaze. "My answer is and will always be no."

"Why, whatever do you mean?" asked Richard with confusion. "I came here for the food and atmosphere. I find it most...enriching."

The traveler heard a cruel pleasure in the man's voice at that last word.

The bearded man looked up from his food, bits of gravy dripping from his beard. "Really, boss? I thought you said this place was a dirty du–ow!" The man flinched as Richard kicked him under the table, the nobleman's expression never wavering. The man went back to eating his food in silence, rubbing his aching shin.

"I'm sure you do," said Sarah accusingly. "Just like you've found it enriching to drive my family into poverty."

Richard shrugged his shoulders. "Alas, what can I do? As I've told you and your father before, I'm only abiding by our agreement. I'd rather not take so much, but the contract is clear on the payment amounts. If he can't make them on time or in full then I have to take something else to make sure the terms are met. He's not the only one losing money on this loan, you know."

"We lose more than money to you!" snapped Sarah, anger evident in her words. "You barely leave us enough to have a home, much less food on the table!"

"Well, I'm sure we could come to some sort of an agreement on that," said Richard, reaching for her hand with an unsettling smile.

The traveler recognized that tone in Richard's voice. Beneath that veneer of cultured nobility was a truly dangerous mind. It had a fair idea what Richard wanted with Sarah, and it was not noble in any regard. Nor was what he would do to get it.

Sarah jerked her hand out of Richard's reach. "This conversation is over. We'll pay you what we owe and that's it. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I have other customers to see to." She gave a contemptuously low bow and turned to leave.

The smile vanished from Richard's face, replaced with a flash of savage anger. He snatched Sarah's wrist and yanked her to her knees beside his chair, causing her to drop the tray. The clatter caused most of the patrons to jump and turn to the sound, but a quick glare from the giants and they turned back to their food. The traveler reached for its bokken but stayed seated, watching the crooked nobleman intensely.

"Ow! Let me go!" demanded Sarah, trying to pry his fingers off.

Richard gripped tighter and wrenched her wrist, making Sarah lean awkwardly to ease the discomfort it caused her. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah...why do you insist on making me your worst enemy when I could be your best friend?" he asked with the smoothness of a rat's fur. "You'd be so much more useful to your father as my wife than just his unwed daughter. Not many men would be willing to take the child of an old impoverished fisherman as a bride. But I'm willing to overlook all that. I'd even be willing to overlook your family's debt."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box that left little doubt to what it contained. "All you have to say is–."

Sarah swatted the box out of Richard's hand. The lid broke off against the floorboards, sending the diamond ring bouncing over the floor. It rolled around in smaller circles before coming to a stop behind Richard's chair.

"I'll starve on the street before I marry a beast like you!" Sarah shouted.

The corner of Richard's mouth twitched in annoyance. "Keep that up and you'll get your wish, dearie. At the rate you're going you'll be an old spinster and your father long dead before the debt's paid. If your payments don't pick up soon, I may even have to take your house."

Sarah's eyes widened, horror evident on her face. "You wouldn't dare!"

Richard grinned menacingly at her. "Oh, I dare. I've been more than generous with your family by allowing you to keep that cattle barn you call a home. It'd be a shame for all those children to leave, scattered across the kingdom or onto the streets because their 'mother' wouldn't do everything in her power to care for them."

His other hand shot out and grabbed her face, forcing her to look up at him. "Or for such a pretty rose like yourself to waste her days in a squalid place like this, much less with her nose in some dusty books. Think about it, Sarah. Really think about it. I could make you rich beyond your wildest dreams. With my wealth you could have the finest dresses, servants to wait on you hand and foot, and all the finest food for you, the children, and your father. All it takes is your consent. And obedience."

He stared at her face for a moment. Suddenly he leaned in and forced a kiss on her lips. Sarah pulled away, trying to push him off her as he smothered her scream of protest. Richard's guards laughed loudly, enjoying the scene.

The traveler was clutching its mug so tightly the metal was bending. It looked around the room. People were trying to ignore what was happening, but their discomfort was evident. Several more patrons got up to leave, unable to watch anymore. John was cleaning the mug in his hands so vigorously the traveler thought he would rub through the metal.

"Let go of me, you brute!" shouted Sarah as she finally pushed Richard back. He gave a cruel laugh before trying to kiss her again. Sarah wriggled her lips away so he kissed her cheek instead.

"So beautiful, yet so feisty. Not ideal for a wife, but that can change. This would be much easier for us both if you cooperated," Richard taunted, running his thumb over Sarah's lips.

Sarah snapped at Richard's digit like a cornered dog, biting down on the knuckle. Richard gave a yowl, snatching his hand back but keeping hold of her wrist. He waved his hand around as though the pain were a fire he could snuff out.

The traveler stiffened sharply, ready to move in an instant. It knew how Richard's type responded to blatant rebellion like that. This was about to get ugly.

Richard flexed his hand, red teeth marks on his thumb. He turned on Sarah, that animalistic savagery from earlier emerging in full as his face contorted into a snarl. He drew back his arm and swung, backhanding Sarah hard across her cheek. The loud slap caused everyone to flinch and Sarah to cry out. He drew back and struck again, knocking her to the floor. She lay there clutching her stinging face, trying not to cry.

"You filthy little tramp!" shouted Richard as he shot to his feet. "How dare you bite me!"

His bodyguards started to rise, but Richard stopped them with a wave of his hand. He grabbed Sarah by her hair and hauled her face up to his, causing her to cry out again.

"If you're going to behave like a dog then you can crawl on the ground like one!" He gave her head a shake and then cast her to the floor. "Now go fetch some wine for my men and I!"

Sarah started to get to her feet when Richard put his boot between her shoulders and shoved her back down. "Humans walk on two legs. Dogs walk on four, so that's what you'll do! Or would you like to explain to those brats that they have to leave their home tonight because of you?"

Sarah remained frozen on the floor as Richard removed his boot. She was trying her best not to cry, but her sobs escaped as choked whimpers as her tears began falling.

"Now get going," said Richard coldly as he sat back down. "And bark while you're at it. Go on, mongrel! Fetch!"

Tears were falling freely from Sarah's eyes as she pushed herself up. The traveler thought she would get to her feet, but slowly she crawled on her hands and knees towards the kitchen door, tears leaving a trail of dark spots in her wake.

"I don't hear any barking!"

"Ar-arfarf…" Sarah managed, eyes cast down in shame.

The traveler watched with the entire tavern in mortified silence as Sarah ambled across the floor, her white apron becoming smeared with dust. The traveler could see the hurt and embarrassment in her eyes as she went, her barks broken as she tried to hold back her sobs. A thin trickle of blood escaped her lips before she could wipe it away.

"What are you lot looking at!?" growled the bald man to the room. The onlookers quickly turned back to their tables, not wanting to get caught up in Richard's wrath. The murmur of the crowd returned to the tavern. "Yeah, that's what I thought!"

"Be sure to go slowly!" called Richard after her. "Maybe you'll find a spare penny while you're down there? Every bit helps!"

His men laughed loudly as Sarah got to her feet by the kitchen doors. Her hand was shaking as she reached for the wine and mugs. Her cheek was flushing red as the liquid pouring from the bottle. The swelling began to set in. She spilled the last of the bottle over one of the mugs and her apron as her lip started to quiver, trying her best to not break down. She put the bottle aside and went back to the kitchen for a new apron.

The traveler had crushed the mug it was holding, the metal as ruined as its appetite. It had been wise to put its knives in its pack, because right then it wanted to bury one between Richard's eyes. This was the other reason it avoided taverns in the east. It could never let things like this go. It almost always got involved in some way that resulted in a fight. It was extremely foolish to start one after just arriving in Seahaven, especially considering it was trying to be inconspicuous. But it could not allow Richard's behavior to go unpunished. Someone needed to give him a taste of his own humiliation, and the traveler was itching to volunteer.

The question was how? The muscle-bound bodyguards would intimidate most people, but not the traveler. They carried themselves like thugs, not professionals. Their boldness came more from their stature and their boss' presence than any real skill. Their knives were too clean and unmarked to have seen much use. Even if they pulled their weapons, they posed more danger to the furniture than the traveler. It would not put it past them to start throwing chairs and tables either. It was how brawlers fought.

The real danger was Richard. His sword's guard and blade were polished to shining new, but the worn leather of the handle and his gloves suggested frequent and vigorous use. He was undoubtedly skilled with a blade, and the tavern was not the place to find out how much. The possibility of getting bystanders caught in the middle was a risk the traveler would not take. Besides, a wound to Richard's pride would be much more painful than a punch to his face, as much as he deserved the latter.

But what about Sarah? If she stayed here, there was a real possibility that Richard could turn his wrath on her out of spite. The traveler would rather take a beating from all three of them with iron rods than let her be harmed any more. It needed to get her out of the tavern, even if it was just for the day. More importantly, it needed the blame to lie solely with itself.

A glint of light from behind Richard's chair caught the traveler's eye. It was the gold nugget it gave Sarah. The glinting speck lay next to the tainted engagement ring. It must have bounced out of her apron when Richard struck her.

A plan took shape in the traveler's mind, creating a mischievous crooked grin on its lips. If this worked–it was almost certain it would–those scumbags would get what they had coming and give the traveler a chance to get Sarah away safely and blame free. And it would get a ring as a bonus.

The traveler rose, slinging on its pack and sheathing the bokken through its belt. It covered up its face and grabbed its mug before going to the end of the bar, motioning to John as he dried another mug. He cast a lingering glance at Richard before hurrying over.

"Can I help ye, lad?" asked John as he approached.

The traveler leaned in close. "Yeah. How much to have Sarah for the day?"

John looked at the traveler as though it just asked him something unbelievably insulting about his mother. "Now ye listen 'ere, lad! I don' know what things be like where ye're from, but Seahaven ain't that kind o' place an' Sarah's not somethin' ye can buy! She's suffered enough today without yer sorry hide tryin' t'–!"

The traveler cringed under its shemagh and slapped a hand repeatedly to its forehead, realizing how badly that statement could be misinterpreted. "No! Not like that!" it hissed, slinging off its pack as it dug inside for another jewel. "I'm asking how much it'd cost to let me get her away from Richard! And if you don't mind a little mess, I'll give that scumwad a taste of his just desserts."

"Are ye crazy, lad!?" whispered John. "Do ye have any idea what Richard could do t' ye?"

The traveler set the ruined mug in front of John, turning it to show how flattened it had become. The bartender's eyes went wide as dinner plates as he examined the crumpled metal.

"Do you have any idea what I could do to him?" asked the traveler. It reached into its pocket and pulled out a small blue sapphire for John to see. "Look, I don't know what he's got on you and everyone else. But he's got nothing on me, and I've dealt with his kind before. I've got no issues with him having a death wish for me, but I've got issues letting him walk out of here without a scratch."

John looked over at Richard and his men. They were making barking noises at Sarah as she emerged from the kitchen with a new bottle. Richard quietly ate his meal as he watched her open it, a faint smile on his lips.

The traveler could practically feel the loathing coming off the aged bartender. John reached into his pocket and produced the ruby the traveler paid with earlier, turning it over in his hands. Then he looked at the sapphire the traveler was offering, and then up into the traveler's goggles.

"Do it an' ye can eat free fer a week," said John as he took the traveler's hand and put the ruby in it. "I'll make it two if ye give 'im an extra one fer me."

The traveler nodded and pocketed the jewels. Sarah was coming its way with the wine bottle and three mugs on a small serving tray. Her face was still flushed from embarrassment and Richard's strikes. The traveler quickly lifted its goggles, gave her a knowing wink, and put them back before she could make out its eye color. Sarah looked at it with confusion as she passed, but her focus quickly returned to the reprehensible men she would be serving. The traveler waited a few seconds before following. Sarah approached the table and began setting out the mugs, doing her best to ignore the taunting of her tormentors' henchmen as she poured. Richard took a large swig of wine before returning to his meal, clearly amused by the whole situation.

"Move back," whispered the traveler as it passed by Sarah, drawing its bokken out just a tad. It slowed its steps, ensuring it was right behind Richard as he leaned in to take a bite of boar.

"Oh my! What's this?" said the traveler with enough volume to be heard by the entire room.

The traveler bent over to pick up the gold and ring. As it did it pushed on its bokken, causing the tip to strike Richard in the back of his head like a pool cue. The sudden hit knocked Richard face-first into his food, sending meat, juices, and potato flying with a loud splattering noise.

An immediate silence fell over the room, which made the dropped utensils and mugs very audible. Sarah gasped loudly, eyes wide with disbelief as the tray slipped from her hand and clattered on the floor. Richard's men stared dumbfounded at their boss as their small minds processed what just happened.

Richard bolted upright, his face hidden behind a thick coating of food. "Who…who did that!?" he bellowed, droplets of food flying from his lips. His face was turning bright red underneath the culinary mask.

The traveler rose up and spun sharply to face Richard, purposefully pushing on the bokken so it was level with his head. The wood sword struck Richard hard in the side of his head, knocking him off his chair. He lay on the floor clutching his now throbbing skull.

"Sir! Are you hurt?" asked the bald man as he rushed to his boss' aide.

"Hey, you!" snapped the bearded man as he grabbed the traveler's shoulder. "You got any idea who you–bugh!"

The traveler grabbed the bearded man's wrist and pulled him in as it thrust the butt of its bokken into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The man fell back clutching his stomach, wheezing as he tried to breathe normally.

"Are you okay?" asked the traveler with false concern. "You look sick. Ate too fast?"

"You're gonna pay for that!" yelled the bald man, standing up and throwing a fist at the traveler's face. The traveler nimbly slipped past the punch and shoved the bald man hard in the chest. The man went stumbling back and tripped on a chair, falling and striking his head on the edge of a table. He curled up on the floor cursing as he clutched the large lump forming on the back of his head.

Richard wiped his eyes, blinking in furious disbelief at the traveler. "Who the blazes are you!?"

"The one who bumped you!" said the traveler. "So sorry! Lemme wash that off for you!"

Before Richard could do anything the traveler grabbed one of the mugs and tossed wine straight into Richard's face. Richard clenched his eyes shut as the alcohol burned them, only to leave himself open for a second mugful right to his face.

"Nope, still got some on you." The traveler pinned Richard down with a boot to his chest and grabbed the wine bottle, upending it over Richard's face. "Hold still."

"Sto–*pppptb*–stop!" sputtered Richard, trying to block the wine with his hands.

"I said hold still!" said the traveler, pinning Richard's arms with its remaining hand and foot. It kept going until the bottle was empty and Richard's face and hair were clear of most of the food and saturated with wine.

"There, that's better!" said the traveler, releasing Richard's hands to rub wine out of his eyes.

The bearded giant had risen to his feet, though he was still holding his stomach. "You wretch! I'll get you!"

The traveler stepped off Richard and hooked its boot into the legs of a chair, flinging it at the bearded man's feet. He tried to jump over but was too slow, catching his ankles on the seat and tripping in midair. He fell face first on the floor and rolled over, clutching his pounding forehead.

"You cad!" shouted Richard, who was trying to draw his sword and get up at the same time. "You have any idea who I am!?"

"Should I?" asked the traveler.

"I'm Lord Richard Avitas!"

"Never heard of you. But you can tell me all about yourself once you're dried off!"

The traveler grabbed the wine bottle and the edge of the tablecloth and yanked it off, leaving the food on the table. The traveler flung the empty wine bottle at the rising bald giant's head, striking him with a hollow thunk and sending him back to the floor.

"You'll pay for this with your life!" shouted Richard as he drew his sword and slashed at the traveler's head.

"My life?" said the traveler as it ducked Richard's swing. "That's a little steep, don't you think?"

Before Richard could swing again the traveler whipped the tablecloth around one of his ankles and jerked hard, pulling Richard's foot from under him. He fell backwards and smacked his head on the floor, dazing him long enough for the traveler to jump on him and pin his arms under its knees. It began roughly toweling off Richard's face and head with the tablecloth, digging its fingers in painfully.

"Get off me!" shouted Richard. "Get your filthy hands off me, you dirty stinking mongrel!"

"If it's the dog smell I can explain! Just as soon as I…there! All done!" declared the traveler, whipping the tablecloth away. "Oh, wow! Uh…oh boy…"

Richard was a mess. Traces of food clung to his face and clothes. His hair was a frizzed tangle, as though a flock of birds had tried to make a nest with it. His jacket and shirt were stained with wine. His face was even redder than the wine was, veins throbbing on his forehead.

"Talk about a bad hair day," said the traveler, quickly poking a pair of holes in the tablecloth with its fingers before draping it over Richard's face. "There! Problem solved!"

A sound of poorly stifled laughter welled up in the tavern, like the first bubbles rising in a boiling pot. The traveler looked at the crowd, seeing several people trying to keep from laughing. The crinkling at the corners of their eyes and the flush to their cheeks did little to hide their amusement. One of the waitresses was covering her smile with her hand, the rise and fall of her shoulders failing to conceal her giggling.

The noise was infectious. Within seconds the entire room burst out in raucous laughter and a few applauding claps as Richard tried to get out from under the traveler. Hands pounded tables and backs as the mirth spread. John wiped a tear from his eye with his towel, leaning on the bar for support as he joined in the cacophony.

Sarah was laughing as loud as everyone else. The traveler caught her eye. She said nothing, but it could see the disbelief, delight, and perhaps gratitude in her face.

"Vandal!" bellowed Richard as he thrashed under the tablecloth. "Stupid rabid mutt! Trash eating piece of sh–!"

The traveler cut him off when it stuffed the tablecloth into his mouth. "Ah-ah! Language!"

"Behind you!" shouted someone.

The traveler glanced back to see the bald man rushing it again. It rolled off Richard and swung its leg into the man's ankle, tripping him up. He waved his arms wildly for balance, falling as Richard ripped the tablecloth off his face.

"You're a dead–!" Richard's words were cut off when he saw the bald giant falling towards him. "Aaaah!"

WHOMP!

The bald giant fell on top of Richard, knocking the wind out of him. Richard lost all the air in his lungs in a loud cheek-puffing exhale, his eyes looking as though they were about to pop out of his head. The traveler darted around the pinned Richard and grabbed Sarah's wrist.

"Come on!" it said, pulling her towards the door. "We're getting out of here!"

Sarah resisted the traveler's pull. "What?"

"Your boss gave you the day off! Now let's go before Prince Charmless and his pet rocks get back on their feet!"

Sarah looked back to John. He made a shooing gesture towards the door, still laughing with everyone else. Sarah hesitated for a moment, and then gave a thanking nod to her employer. She allowed the traveler to pull her towards the door now.

"After them!" shouted Richard as he shoved the bald man off him. "Don't let them get away!"

The bald man and his bushy bearded accomplice started to get up, but the blows to their heads made them more sluggish and dopier than they already were. The staggered a few steps before stumbling forward, leaning on tables and chairs for support.

The traveler turned back to the room and gave a sweeping bow. "Thank you! Thank you! You've been a wonderful audience! I'll be here all week!"

"You!" hollered Richard as he got to his feet, brandishing his sword. "Get back here! I'm gonna skin you alive!"

"That's not a great incentive to stay!" The traveler kicked an empty mug off a table at Richard's sword hand. Richard quickly parried it aside, but not before the traveler could grab a pair of apples.

"Skin this while you're at it!" said the traveler as it threw the apples at him. Richard swung again and cut one apple in half, but the other went low and struck him in a most vulnerable spot.

There was more laughter and cheers as Richard sunk to the floor clutching himself. The traveler pulled the door open and darted out, towing Sarah behind it. A moment later they were in the street and lost among the crowd, unable to hear Richard loose a string of high-pitched curses that would have made a pirate cry and plug his ears.


A/N: Only a few hours in Seahaven and the traveler has already found trouble! Here it has come in the form of Lord Richard Avitas, a deceptively wicked nobleman. But it has also found friends, or at least the potential for such connections. But as the traveler's new life begins, Melody's old one is coming to its abrupt end. The day is still young, and with it comes more potential. For friendship. For vendettas. For tears. And for new beginnings both great and grim.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Little Mermaid," Disney, or any of its associated characters and intellectual property. Everything else, however, is mine =)