A cloud of silver bubbles encased Dyvon as she plunged beneath the surface of her watery prison. Metal crashed as the sailors shut and locked the grate above her. Surrounded by darkness, somehow, she knew she was not alone. Undulating tendrils of onyx hair framed her pale face as if frozen in time. A trickle of fear skittered down her spine in warning as muffled cheers of celebration pierced the surface. Ears thrumming with a fury, her eyes darted around for any sign of danger. She was bare and exposed in a sea that was not her own.
Dyvon surged towards the only light she could find, towards the very people who put her there. Her skin breached the surface, and she clamped her hands around the rusted dirt-caked gate separating her from freedom.
"Please!" Her cry sliced through the night, and the jolly voices she'd naively found enchanting, mere moments before. "Let me out! I've done nothing!" A boisterous cacophony of male laughter roared to life above her. Dyvon glanced below to the impenetrable darkness, where a creature watched with calculation, unlike anything she'd encountered.
An agonized screech escaped her lips as a boot stomped upon her slender fingers. Dyvon wrenched them free and dropped them into the small pocket of air between the water and the grate. A sneering face peered down at her from the deck of the ship. The man crouched beside the entrance, his hulking form casting dark shadows across her tearful face.
"Hello, little one." His lips peeled back to reveal a full set of teeth and a sneer of absolute condescension. Dyvon shrank back further, her attention shifting rapidly between the man and the water below. "It seems we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Captain Slank. This fine vessel belongs to me. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of hearing your name." The tone with which he addressed her was reminiscent of how one would speak to a prized pig.
"I must get home to my family." Her dark eyes pleaded with him to listen. "Please, help me."
"What is your name, beautiful?" Firelight danced across his skin, illuminating the fiery hair atop his head and the vibrant emerald green of his eyes.
"Dyvon." The name came out as a whisper, her voice like the rush of waves amidst a silent night at sea. Slank smiled again as he appraised the desperate mermaid at his mercy.
"Dyvon..." He seemed to taste every syllable of her name, as one would the skin of a lover. A shiver ran down her spine. "You belong to me now. You are not the only prize we've gleaned along our voyage, and I expect you to be an amiable guest upon this ship. Otherwise, my manners will be much less pleasant."
"Please, let me go." Her pleading fell on deaf ears as the man stood. He made a gesture to his crew, and as if nothing had happened, the sounds of celebration commenced.
"You are far too valuable to release. You are the key to riches beyond our wildest dreams." Tears pricked at Dyvon's eyes as she sank back into the familiar embrace of saltwater. Something brushed past her tail, and in an instant, she was on high alert once more. Ducking beneath the surface, she steeled herself for the impending encounter.
Gendry took a sip from his waterskin as he stared out at the lilac horizon. For the first time in what felt like forever, his thirst was satiated. In the two days since he'd been stranded, Gendry had trod every inch of the island. His efforts bore fruit as he'd found a source of fresh water. The small coin pouch tied to the waist of his pants jangled as he withdrew the shimmering pearl. Smooth and unyielding between his fingers, it glinted in the late afternoon light, revealing the infinite variations of color within. Pensively he rolled it back and forth, the gesture second nature. By now, he knew every detail of it, just as he did the sensation of a hammer in his hand.
The gift was left as he slumbered two nights prior, and by the time he'd awoken, the deliverer was gone without a trace. It seemed a ghost of the night had been his miracle, and each night since, the miracle repeated. Not a footprint remained, though the tide hadn't reached far enough to wash them away. The only trace was a large dent in the sand leading up to the pile of oysters. It was just as it had been when he'd awoken from the storm. Surely a spirit watched over him in his time of need.
Gendry scanned the beach for any whisper beyond the skittering sandpipers and pelicans soaring above the rolling sea. He knew one thing for certain. He was not alone. Whomever it was had proven benevolent thus far, but if they were a friend, why hadn't they made themself known?
From her hideaway, Sorcha smiled. The man had accepted her gift, though not without due suspicion. Her thick head of kinky curls peeked out from behind the rocks, and if Gendry had looked up At that moment, he might have seen the mermaid who'd saved his life. In the days that had passed since she left the oysters, Sorcha was scarcely able to sleep. Her mind raced with possible outcomes of her predicament. Maybe he was different from the others, and when she finally revealed herself, he'd help her find Dyvon. From the looks of it, he needed her just as much as she did him. But it was the more than likely possibility that he was not different that kept her from approaching.
So as the sun began to set, Sorcha found her heart sank with it. Dyvon was three days gone, the only hint of her destination being a king and a wedding. It certainly wasn't much to go on. Through misted eyes, she watched as the man lay his head upon the sand with an exhausted sigh. His skin had taken on an angry tinge of red that reminded her of the precious coral that speckled her home reef. Had it not been for her intervention, she suspected he wouldn't have survived his stay on the island. It remained to be seen whether either of them would.
Firelight illuminated his sparse camp set back from the soft white fingers of ocean waves that crept onto shore. One arm lay cast across his eyes, while the other traced blind patterns in the sand beside him. It was a long while before his fingers fell still, and soft snores filled the night.
It was then that Sorcha gathered that night's gift in her arms and swam to shore. A handful of clams were nestled in the crook of her left arm while her right reached out and gripped the sand of the shallows. Waves crashed lightly against her back, nudging her towards the man and his flickering flame. Sorcha hauled herself out of the water with one arm, and as she repeated the action, it grew more and more cumbersome. Her tail dragging across damp sand, fortunately, was drowned out by the crashing of the sea.
A foreign warmth danced across her skin wherever the firelight hit. Dyvon would've killed for the chance to be this close to man's creation. The very gift merlings could never attain. But it was that thirst for knowledge that got them in this mess, to begin with. The warm light of the fire was strangely comforting, though she knew it to be more trouble than it was worth. As she reached the space beside the man's sleeping form, she found herself lingering a moment longer than she should've. Just to steal a second of false solace.
She wished she could've found herself on land by any other circumstance. As a young Merling, Sorcha had woven a tapestry of dreams in which she walked upon the land, explored far off places, sang as the Sirens could. But they were just that -- dreams. With care, Sorcha laid the clams she'd gathered one by one in a neat pile, flinching at every clink and scrape that cut through the night. She glanced over at the slumbering man every few seconds. He remained just the same, chest rising and falling to the rhythm of the crashing waves.
Each time she delivered her gifts, she couldn't help but study him as he slept. No matter how long she watched, she couldn't shake the curiosity, the pull towards him. Sorcha dragged herself across the divide.Her torso cast a subtle shadow across his sunburnt skin as she leaned over his face. Her curls hovered mere centimeters from him, falling like a thick curtain on either side. She was so enthralled, studying his hair, lips, neck, that she didn't notice the sea-blue eyes staring back at her until it was too late.
In a flash, Gendry launched himself upon her. The knife, dull and worn, pressed into the delicate skin of her neck, his body pinning hers to the sand in a death trap. Sorcha gasped painfully, her chest compressed to the point of near suffocation by the man's weight. Her eyes stared up at him with unbridled terror. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, and his fervent gaze softened the slightest bit at the sight of the scared woman at his mercy.
"Who are you?" His voice came out harsher than intended, and Sorcha pressed her head as far back into the sand as possible. Her tail squirmed beneath her in an attempt to shove him off. Gendry turned his gaze from her face to what lay below. His eyes widened in an instant. The gold, the scales, the tail, the woman attached to it.
As quickly as he'd pinned her, Gendry scrambled back. The hand gripping the knife lifted as he halted a few feet from her, ready to slash wildly at any sudden movement. Sorcha pushed herself upright and scooted as far from him as she could get without throwing herself into the flames. One hand flew up to grip her neck protectively, and for a moment, neither dared to speak.
"You-you're a Merling." Not a question but a statement. There was no doubt what she was. The fire danced across their faces, painting their tumultuous emotions in shadow and light. Sorcha's heart thrummed faster than it ever had. White-hot dread coursed through her veins, gluing her to the spot. Gendry's eyes flicked back and forth between her face, and the shimmering tail laid across the sand. "You're the one that's been helping me?" He whispered. He moved to stand, but Sorcha scrambled back a few more inches. He sat back down and held up a hand. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."
"You should've thought of that before you held a blade to my neck." She glared at the weapon in his hand venomously. He looked surprised like he had assumed her to be more fish than human. Her voice was smooth like honey and more melodious than any fair maiden he'd encountered. Merlings had forever been painted as the embodiment of beauty, their voices more enchanting than desire itself. It seems the tales were true.
"Here," Gendry tossed the dull knife in the opposite direction, where it flopped into the sand with a faint puff. Suspicion still clouded her features, but he bared his palms to her in a sign of innocence. "Will you tell me your name?" His tone was soft. The voice one might use to soothe a frightened child. Sorcha knew better than to believe it.
"Sorcha." Head held high, she swallowed the fear that welled within her. The man sat between her and the ocean, blocking the sliver of a chance to escape. She deemed it a lost cause. She was trapped.
"Sorcha." A soft smile bloomed on his lips, and she might have found it intriguing had it not been for the looming sense of doom. "Name's Gendry. My apologies for the blade. You startled me. I assure you I mean no harm."
"You'll have to excuse me for not believing you."
"That's understandable." He lifted his shoulders and scrunched his nose apologetically. "Thank you for saving me and for the gifts." He nodded in the direction of the abandoned clams. "I wouldn't have survived if it weren't for you." Gendry straightened, scooting towards her slightly, so they were no longer leaning away from each other. "I thought the merlings were extinct."
"Why were you in such a small boat? I thought men traveled on ships." The question flew out before she could stop it. She'd been itching for answers since she'd first seen him. For so long, she'd longed to know everything about the surface, and the knowledge of her pod was more than lacking. Gendry seemed to relax at this, his shoulders sinking into his natural posture.
"We do." Gendry pondered his response. Davos had instructed him to keep the truth to himself. Melisandre had eyes and ears everywhere, and the gold cloaks still stalked the last bastard of Robert Baratheon like wolves the scent of blood. But a mermaid was hardly going to spread word to the whole of Westeros about him. "I was running from someone who means me harm. I'm important to her for some reason. The rowboat was all I could get to escape. I was headed to Kings Landing when the storm hit."
"Kings Landing?" Head tilting to the side, Sorcha's ears perked at the word king. She pushed herself upright by her elbows, her tail laid out beside her on full display. She wasn't blind to the way his eyes trailed across her scales and up her body. Her own did the same to him.
"Yeah, it's the capital city of Westeros." Gendry watched as something like shock bloomed across her face. A spark lit behind dark eyes, and he didn't know why, but somehow, his own eyes mirrored hers. "Why did you save me?" The question came out as a breathy whisper, but she heard it.
"I don't know." It was the truth. Even now, she had no idea why she chose to rescue him. Every instinct told her not to, yet here she was. "You were going to die." It didn't answer his question, but Sorcha wasn't sure what to say. Silence filled the night as they stared at one another. "And... I need your help." Gendry's brows rose in surprise.
"My help?" He was taken aback by her words. He tilted his head to the side skeptically. Sorcha seemed to hesitate, unsure if she'd said too much too soon.
"My sister-- she was taken. By a ship of your people." Her brows furrowed as she looked out across the water. She hoped that somewhere, Dyvon was alive, just waiting for a chance to escape. "I was attempting to follow her when I saw you capsize."
"I wish I could help." Gendry's shoulders sagged. "But I'm just as stuck as you at the moment." He gestured to the island he stood upon, and Sorcha nodded thoughtfully.
"Yes, I have noticed that." Sorcha found a bitter smile tugging at the corner of her lips. A soft breeze rustled the palms at the edge of the beach and chilled her skin in a way she found entirely alien. The wind was a phenomenon she'd never experienced until she'd been forced to the surface. The list of foreign experiences seemed to grow with every passing second. "We seem to be at an impasse."
"There are legends told of Merlings shedding their tails for legs. Is it not true?" Gendry leaned towards her unconsciously, but Sorcha didn't flinch.
"I'm afraid I know not." Sorcha's heart sank. "Merlings haven't been to the surface in Millennia. If it is true, I wouldn't know where to start."
"Well, do you have any idea where they might've taken your sister?"
"I overheard them say something about a King and a Wedding."
"Well, there are only two kings in Westeros." Gendry smiled, "and I have it on good authority that King Joffrey is engaged to be married." A spark of hope ignited in Sorcha's chest, and she pushed herself up until she knelt on her tail.
"Then perhaps there is hope after all." She grinned at him, and Gendry thought it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. "If I can get you to land, will you take me to this king?" He sat back and frowned. The Gold Cloaks were still searching for him. If Ser Davos was correct, then he would be in relative safety in King's Landing. But he doubted it would remain that way if he brought a mermaid along with him. Yet, as he looked into her deep caramel eyes, so filled with hope and sorrow, he couldn't bring himself to refuse. She was his only hope of surviving, and if only he could reach Westeros, he could figure the rest out later. Sorcha's gold scales shimmered in the light as she shifted restlessly back and forth.
"If you bring me safely to land, I will help you get your sister back." Sorcha physically relaxed, her shoulders sagging in relief. She couldn't contain her triumphant grin. Gendry held out a hand to her, and Sorcha eyed it warily.
"You shake it. It means we have a deal." He explained with amusement. She reached out and grabbed his hand carefully with her fingers and shook it frantically from side to side as if shaking out a rag. Gendry laughed, a burdenless joyful sound that he had no idea he could still make. Sorcha looked confused, but he couldn't bring himself to correct her. For the first time in what felt like forever, they had hope on their side.
My babies are finally together!!!! I love them so much and from now on we will get tons of Sorcha and Gendry time. I put in a little glimpse of what's going on with Dyvon which will be developed more in the future. Let me know what you think and what you'd like to see going forward. Don't forget to vote!