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intheheartTitle: Sea-Grey
Rating: PG-13 for implications.
Summary: He found her by the sea.
AU: EPIC PIRATE AU
Notes: I woke up at five AM with this story in my head.
He found her by the sea.
He saw her first standing, so still he would have thought her part of the tumbled stone if her dark hair, loose like a gypsy's, had not been the wind's plaything. Then she moved, sudden as lighting, smooth as a seal in the water, and scrambled down the rocks.
She never once looked at him. He would remember that, in years to come. She never once turned her eyes away from the sea.
There was a cloak dark as her hair, lying across a withered bush. He picked it up, and went after her.
--
No one knew who she was. She had no family, no relations at all; she seemed to have sprung from the sea, with her wild dark hair and sea-grey eyes. She gave him her name-- Melanie-- and not much else.
Davy sniffed, and muttered about mermaids. Davy's Emma gasped, and made much of the poor girl. Others, less superstititous and less friendly, spoke of gypsies in the area, and kept a hand to their purses when the mysterious girl was about.
He neither muttered nor fawned, only watched with thoughtful eyes, and neglected to keep a hand to his heart.
--
"I must go to sea," he told her, one night in July.
She sat up, pulled her chemise to cover her pale, pale skin. "Yes," she said. "I envy you."
He blinked, and sat up too. "I don't want to leave you. I'd rather stay."
She looked at him, sea-gray eyes amused and tolerant and a little sad. "Yes," she said, again. "But you can go."
He had no idea what to say to that, so he stayed silent.
After a time, she turned to kiss him, skin sleek and shining in the moonlight. "I will miss you," she said.
--
He came back in February, much delayed and annoyed, to find whispers at his back, silences that spread from his gaze, and a child with sea-gray eyes in a cradle by Emma's fire.
"You'd best look to your responsibilities," Emma informed him, hands on her hips. "Else you'll deal with me."
He said nothing, too stunned, only stooped over the cradle and looked into the small face. The babe, his son, blinked, yawned, and stared solemnly back.
"I will," he said, not really aware of what he said, "take care of you. I will."
"Good," Emma said, and he started.
--
His son had sea-grey eyes and a faint webbing between his toes, and swam like a fish from the moment he was allowed in the water. Like his mother, he thought.
Some said they'd seen her walking out of town, dark hair tangled down her back, invisible against the cloak that matched its color. Some said they'd seen her walking into the sea, skirts rising and floating on the tide until they sank, water-logged. All said she'd put the babe in Emma's arms and walked away, never looking back.
He never knew the truth, and he never saw her again.
Rating: PG-13 for implications.
Summary: He found her by the sea.
AU: EPIC PIRATE AU
Notes: I woke up at five AM with this story in my head.
He found her by the sea.
He saw her first standing, so still he would have thought her part of the tumbled stone if her dark hair, loose like a gypsy's, had not been the wind's plaything. Then she moved, sudden as lighting, smooth as a seal in the water, and scrambled down the rocks.
She never once looked at him. He would remember that, in years to come. She never once turned her eyes away from the sea.
There was a cloak dark as her hair, lying across a withered bush. He picked it up, and went after her.
--
No one knew who she was. She had no family, no relations at all; she seemed to have sprung from the sea, with her wild dark hair and sea-grey eyes. She gave him her name-- Melanie-- and not much else.
Davy sniffed, and muttered about mermaids. Davy's Emma gasped, and made much of the poor girl. Others, less superstititous and less friendly, spoke of gypsies in the area, and kept a hand to their purses when the mysterious girl was about.
He neither muttered nor fawned, only watched with thoughtful eyes, and neglected to keep a hand to his heart.
--
"I must go to sea," he told her, one night in July.
She sat up, pulled her chemise to cover her pale, pale skin. "Yes," she said. "I envy you."
He blinked, and sat up too. "I don't want to leave you. I'd rather stay."
She looked at him, sea-gray eyes amused and tolerant and a little sad. "Yes," she said, again. "But you can go."
He had no idea what to say to that, so he stayed silent.
After a time, she turned to kiss him, skin sleek and shining in the moonlight. "I will miss you," she said.
--
He came back in February, much delayed and annoyed, to find whispers at his back, silences that spread from his gaze, and a child with sea-gray eyes in a cradle by Emma's fire.
"You'd best look to your responsibilities," Emma informed him, hands on her hips. "Else you'll deal with me."
He said nothing, too stunned, only stooped over the cradle and looked into the small face. The babe, his son, blinked, yawned, and stared solemnly back.
"I will," he said, not really aware of what he said, "take care of you. I will."
"Good," Emma said, and he started.
--
His son had sea-grey eyes and a faint webbing between his toes, and swam like a fish from the moment he was allowed in the water. Like his mother, he thought.
Some said they'd seen her walking out of town, dark hair tangled down her back, invisible against the cloak that matched its color. Some said they'd seen her walking into the sea, skirts rising and floating on the tide until they sank, water-logged. All said she'd put the babe in Emma's arms and walked away, never looking back.
He never knew the truth, and he never saw her again.
