1
Tom couldn't sleep for his excitement. Years and years of working tirelessly to get to this point. He gazed out over the open ocean, the ship rocking gently under his feet. His ship. He’d wasted so much of his time in the Navy, working his way to the top. He should've been a captain decades ago but was passed over for a promotion continuously because of petty discrimination. A higher up that held shallow grudges and viewed his every move with suspicion. But Tom had persisted, changing tactics. If the law wouldn't work with him, he’d work against it.
Out on the open sea, the waters black under the night sky, Tom was certain he’d made the right decision.
A full moon shone brightly overhead and left a silver trail across the waves. The carved figurehead stood proudly at the ship's bow. A mermaiden with billowing hair and a fierce expression, arms extended to protect the ship. It was seen as good luck to have a mermaid on board. One of the many superstitions Tom had learned during his brief pirating career.
A splash just ahead of the ship caught his attention. Most of the crew was asleep, apart from the lookout, though he seemed to be dozing in the crow’s nest. Tom inched forward, suspecting a dolphin (another good omen). He peered into the ink-black water, breath catching at the eyes that returned his stare. They glinted like a cats in the moonlight. It was too dark to see much else, but Tom imagined he could make out a human-like face and dark curls.
“Hello,” Tom called out softly, feeling silly as he broke the night’s silence.
The creature stared for a moment longer before sinking below the waves. It was as if it’d never appeared, and Tom wondered for a moment if he’d imagined it entirely. He scanned the sea once more before retiring to his quarters.
Tom had nearly pushed the encounter from his mind when a few nights later the singing started. Tom was sitting on the deck, enjoying the night breeze when a lilting melody filled the air. There were no words– or at least not in any language Tom knew of, but the music was all-encompassing. Each note plucked a string of emotion in Tom, and he was not an emotional man. The crew began to stir at the sound, slowly trickling onto the deck to better hear. No one spoke a word. No one was willing to break whatever spell the song had cast.
It became a regular occurrence, just half past nine every night the singing would start, and the crew was sure to be there, waiting. The thought of a mermaid singing for them each night boosted the ship's morale, mermaids were good luck at sea after all. Tom was sure it was no siren as none of his men had gone diving into the ocean yet. Tom was also sure now that he had seen a face in the water, it was not a figment of his imagination. Though Tom had yet to see the shiny-eyed creature since.
He needn't wait long. Just a few nights later Tom stayed behind as the music tapered off. His crew waved him goodnight as they filed in below deck. The sky was especially clear tonight, the moon missing from the sky but replaced by countless stars. It was one of Tom's favorite things about the ocean, a sea of water below and a sea of stars above. He was leaning against the ship's figurehead when the creature caught his eye once more.
“Well, hello little singer,” He spoke softly, the night still and calm.
The mermaid tilted its head, and Tom was finally able to make out its facial features in the starlight. Freckled, and most likely tan from the salt and sunlight, dark wild curls that fell just past pointed ears. It seemed to be male, which surprised Tom, he’d never heard much of mermen.
“Your songs are beautiful, my crew and I are grateful for them,”
The merman only stared, and Tom offered a wry grin. Of course, the creature didn't understand him. Reflective eyes turned to the carved figurehead and Tom chuckled. Is this what attracted the merman to his ship?
“I’m afraid she's not real,” Tom confessed, knocking a knuckle against the wooden mermaid. “She's not terribly realistic either now that I have a reference,” Tom mused. The real thing was much prettier. Wide eyes with long lashes, andwild curls. His face shone but Tom couldn't be sure if it was a dusting of scales or water droplets.
“It’s rather late. I really should turn in for the night,” Tom sighed. He was loath to pass up any time with the mythical man before him. He possessed an allure that Tom was not strong enough to ignore. “Perhaps you are a siren. Are you here to lure me to my death?”
The merman tilted his head again and Tom smiled.
“I haven't introduced myself; my name is Tom. I’m the captain of this fine vessel.” Tom was delighted when the mermaid responded in a series of clicks,reminiscent of a dolphin's whistle. Tom didn't try to hide his grin, joy bubbling in his chest. Thistruly was a thing of fairy tales.
“You wouldn't mind if I called you Singer, would you? It’s much easier to pronounce,”
The merman squinted, whistling sharply before diving beneath the waterline. Tom sighed.
“Until next time then.”
Tom grew fond of his conversations with the mermaid. He’d become a familiar companion, sometimes even making an appearance when the sun was up. The light allowed Tom a better view of his little singer, legends holding true regarding a mermaid's beauty. Sun-kissed skin with a splattering of freckles and deep red scales, but most startling were the eyes. Singer’s brilliant green eyes were a constant reminder that he wasn't human, an almost unearthly shine to his iris’. Tom had grown fond of the creature, as had much of the crew aboard Voldemort.
Tom was eyeing a crowd of dark clouds in the distance when the telltale splash had him looking towards the water. The swells were growing taller as Tom feared, no doubt a harsh storm was on the way.
“Hello, Little Singer,” This had become Tom's customary greeting, usually returned in a series of clicks or whistles.
“Hello,” Was instead the response that afternoon.
Tom blinked owlishly, double-checking that this was his mermaid.
“Hello,” Tom repeated dumbly, and Little Singer chirped what sounded like laughter.
“Hello,” The mermaid returned again. Its voice was strange, noticeably inhuman. Like his eyes– just slightly off the mark of ordinary. It reminded Tom faintly of a crow echoing a human's voice.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Not just a Singer then, are you?”
Little Singer looked proud of himself, rolling to float on his back. It was the first chance Tom had to see his tail. A sprinkle of scales spread over his shoulders, increasing in amount closer to his waist until they replaced skin entirely. Tom felt nearly indecent for looking so low, but this was not a human, he reminded himself. Little Singer's tail glimmered in the sun; a deep red that nearly seemed black until the light shone on it. The fins were placed just as they would be on a fish if the fish's head was replaced with a man's torso; pectoral fins at his hip bones, pelvic fins lower and closer to the tails center, Tom would even guess the mermaid had a dorsal fin running along his back.
Little Singer flicked his broad tail, the caudal fins flicking up to splash Tom with salty water. He chirped happily as Tom dried his face with a sleeve. It was hot today, Tom wearing only a thin shirt to combat the heat. The cold water was a welcome respite despite the way it seeped into his clothes.
“Someone seems to be in a good mood today,” He couldn't help but smile. There was something contagious about the mermaid's energy. “Is there anything else you can say?” He tapped his lips in a sign of ‘speaking’ in case Little Singer didn't understand.
The mermaid furrowed his brows in concentration, and Tom chuckled at his expressive face.
“Sing-er,” Little Singer croaked, and Tom laughed joyously. The word was over-enunciated, consonants extra sharp, but decipherable all the same.
“Yes indeed. Singer,” Tom pointed at the mermaid to be sure the meaning was clear. “Tom.” He pointed back at himself.
Singer chirped, flicking water into the air again, growing bored of their language lesson.
Thunder clapped in the distance and Tom squinted at the steadily darkening clouds.
“Prepare to reef the sails!” Tom called to his crew, satisfied with the quickened steps of his men and their calls of recognition.
“This will be a nasty one,” Tom confided in Singer. “Stay safe down there.”
Little Singer tilted his head in the way Tom had begun to recognize as curiosity.
“Hello!” Singer croaked and Tom laughed.
“Not quite. Goodbye, Little Singer. For now.” The mermaid chirped again as Tom turned away. There was much to be done before his ship was ready to brave the coming storm.