Work Text:
The Life We Choose
“On Sirens
It is a well documented fact that wherever one finds waters deep enough to freely hide in, and islands big enough to have sea caves, there also one is like as not to find a Siren.
Known by many names around the world, even erroneously called Selkies in some parts of the West – see entry on Seal-folk in the Shape-changers section – the Siren is most commonly known as a Mermaid, and often conjures the image of a beautiful humanoid maiden with a fish tail, sitting upon the rocks of the Caribbean.
While all Sirens do bear an often striking resemblance to human females with piscene lower halves, the degree of resemblance is variable, relying as it does on environmental factors allowing such evolutionary traits.
For example, the Northern Merrow - found primarily in the islands and occasionally lochs of Scotland and Canada – eschews the pale skin, slim form, and lush hair of its equatorial relatives in favour of insulating fat layers, mottled skin of blues, greens and greys, and frond-like growths resembling seaweed in place of hair. This provides them with exceptional camoluflage, and allows them to survive in cold waters that would kill the more flamboyant European Sirens and Caribbean Mermaids.Regardless of their appearance and adaptations, however, every genus of Siren has one trait in common: They are viciously and uniquely talented predators.”
Jill skimmed through the rest of the entry impatiently, before slamming the book shut and glaring at it in the noon light that filtered in from the small windows high on the wall of the hold library. Nothing. No mention of Sirens possessing any of the gentler human qualities... like compassion, and empathy.
But they had to exist, she just knew it. She wouldn't be alive now, to be glaring from storm-grey eyes at a book that had failed to live up to her expectations, if a Sirens compassion didn't exist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A gust of wind heralded the arrival of her brother to the library, his boot heels clicking against the flagstone floor.
“Are you still poking through that boring old bestiary of uncles? Mother is going to have your head if you haven't done your actual work yet!” He grinned, somewhat maliciously. Normally, if either of the two Romanae family scions was to be found shirking chores or avoiding homework, it was him. Seeing his plain and studious little sister in disgrace instead of him was a novelty.
Jill transferred her glare from the book to her brother, who was altogether a far more deserving target for her ire. She noted the immaculately turned out cut of his clothing, from the perfectly starched collar that brushed his neatly gathered raven hair, right down to the freshly waxed and polished boots that were more suited to a court appearance than this little holding on a windswept island in the North Sea.
“You should talk! There is no way you've been exercising and grooming the water-horse father caught, let alone breaking it to harness. Not in that get up. At least I'm trying to learn something about the native species and hazards here, you're still pretending we're back in London, with status and servants.”
George's eyes flashed with anger as he slammed his fist on the table and grated back through gritted teeth.
“Shut. Up. If it wasn't for you and that stupid brawl with the Prince, we still would be! Its your fault we're out here at all!”
“He started it! Him and his wandering hands. I'm no mans toy and I absolutely will not lie with that piece of slimy, arrogant, bullheaded, gold-leafed trash! I don't care who his parents are!” her cheeks flushed angrily as she snapped back at him.
“You should." George replied in a voice dripping with scorn "You're not pretty or rich enough to attract any decent man, and being the Prince's mistress would have gotten father the political sway he needed to get his Knighthood. Instead, your selfishness brought us to ruin. Though what he even saw in you, I can't imagine.”
Jill rose to her feet, shaking slightly with rage. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself not to respond, slowly putting her book carefully on the shelf before turning back to her brother.
“I am not a whore, and I will not be one. Not even for fathers ambitions. And especially not for your overblown self-importance. I know perfectly well you just wanted to use me to get the Prince's ear and friendship for yourself.”
She went to stride away, but George grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him, slapping her hard across the face.
“Stupid bitch!” he snarled “It would have been better for us all if you had just had the grace to die when the boat pitched you into the water on the way over.”
Reminded of the terror she had felt, sinking in storm-tossed waters, crushed and battered by waves higher than her head, Jill blanched, then turned and fled, weeping.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dusk found Jill on the opposite side of the island, huddled in a small cave and watching the waves lap against the shingle. She hadn't been able to bring herself to return to the holding, sure in the knowledge that her parents would implicitly believe and side with George over anything she had to say about the incident. They had been that way ever since the day the King had banished them for her crime of daring to strike his eldest son – even in defense of her virtue.
She stared moodily at the horizon, knowing that she needed to get back. That the wights on this island were night dwellers and that she would be in danger, but unable to face the prospect of returning to the holding. To scowls and punishments. To bitter glances and unspoken blame.
As the sun began to set, she realised that she had been hearing the drifting strains of song for some time now, coming from the inlet just around from hers.
Curious, and forgetting all caution, she followed the sound.
And stopped in her tracks at the edge of a tidal rock pool.
There was no one to be seen. No other entrance to this inlet than the way she had come. Then the music picked up again, and she looked down to see a distorted grey-green face peering up at her from the floor of the rock pool, but no sign of a singer.
“Hello. You're looking better.” The voice was perfectly audible, but she could not work out where it was coming from.
"Down here. You looked right at me while I was singing.”
Slowly, the face in the rock pool moved upwards to breach the surface of the water, until a young humanoid figure with skin of mottled greys and greens sat upon the edge of the pool, her mackerel striped scales and tail glinting in the final rays of the sun. Jill stared, swallowing hard against the knot of apprehension forming in her throat. The Siren spoke again, though her lips never made a sound.
“You do remember me, don't you? I put you back on the boat when you fell out last week.” her eyes were limpid pools that struck Jill as oddly desperate.
“I... I... yes... but, I thought I'd hallucinated that. You're a predator species! Why would you save me?!” Looking around, Jill felt panic set in as she realised that the tide had crept in behind her; she would soon be trapped with a creature capable of controlling her will through song, and of drowning her in seconds.
“Please! Please don't go. the Siren begged, actual tears now falling from her eyes "I saved you because I'm lonely and I didn't want to see you die. Do you have any idea how long it has been since anyone but old fishermen came this way? I heard you singing before the storm and wanted to hear more.”
“What? But... but, what about your own kind? Surely you have family!?”
The Siren drooped on the rocks, seaweed hair falling to hide her face “They cast me out. I wanted to see what the human city looked like and accidentally drew the attention of trophy hunters to our home waters. We had to flee here, where the hunting is bad, and they all blame me.“
Jill felt herself relax slightly as the Siren continued to remain still, the similarity of their situations impressing itself on her.
“I guess we have something in common then. I'm out here because I can't face my own family's bitterness and blame for our being exiled here too.”
The Siren brightened, smiling for the first time and turning what was a rather pouty sulk into a vibrant beam.
“Really? Would you like to escape them? I want to run away, but I don't dare leave the shallows on my own. I'm too young to survive out there alone. Together, we could make it”
“I'd love to get away, but I can't sail a boat on my own” Jill was beginning to like this Siren, so much like herself. “And there is no way I could ever swim even so far as the next island over.”
“You could... if I helped you...” the Siren began, slowly. "But there would be a price. And you'd never see your family again...”
Jill looked at her for a long moment, considering the probable life she had ahead of her, before carefully asking the question.
“How?”
“I can make you one of us. If you agree to it. It is how we breed. But it's not reversible, so if you do this, you'd be a Siren forever. Just like me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Jill nodded firmly “I'll do it. Take me away from here and lets go find somewhere we can both be happy!”
The Siren smiled again, and reached out to draw Jill down to the rocks beside her. Feeling a strange tingling where the Siren's hand had touched her, Jill saw a small patch of blue-grey skin begin to spread from a slimy fingerprint. Before she could react, the Siren drew her close and kissed her, sending the transformative essences deep into Jill's body.
She guided the now near paralysed girl down into the rock pool, to float there in the water.
“Hold my hand and don't fight it, just lie still. The tide will take us both.”
She felt a gentle pressure as Jill squeezed her hand, fingers webbing as they did so, and as the tide flowed in around them, the two Sirens drifted gently out into the sea, stars shining down upon them.
“Together?”
“Together”