Chapter Text
The tide had gone out when Essi returned to the shore, and in the distance she could make out the outline of two men heading closer to where the waves came rolling in.
She shook her head, clearing the dark blonde hair that fell over one little eye in order to see better into the shining sea, although she would recognise the silhouettes of Dandelion and the witcher anywhere. Even from where she sat on the rock, she could see the little glances that Dandelion threw towards Geralt, and she could picture the doltish, smitten look on his face while he stared helplessly at the witcher's back.
Poor, silly Dandelion.
The witcher had a heart of stone, and it was not for the likes of them to covet it. She'd learned that the hard way after his poor behaviour towards her at Drouhard's ball. Maybe it was true what the people said about witchers and their lack of feelings after all, or maybe for once it was even true what Dandelion said – that the mad sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg had bled the life from Geralt's heart with her meanness and sorcery, and all that remained was a tormented husk that didn't understand it could escape from her cruel beatings any time it liked.
Or maybe the witcher just wasn't that interested in blue-eyed poets who could sing and play enchanting music? Maybe the healing power of art just wasn't violent and terrifying enough for Geralt's tastes.
Essi sniffed and turned her gaze to the ocean itself, strumming some faintly melancholic chords on her lute.
She didn't care any more. Not really. The witcher was nice to look at, but that was all. She would not end up like Dandelion, chasing after someone who could never love her back.
The ocean was always changing – restless and shifting on its tides. And even at that, it would be better to fall in love with the deep blue sea than with Geralt of Rivia.
Essi's eyes traced the sparkle of the sun across the foaming waves, and noticed with a shock that she had company.
For perched atop a black outcrop of rock, a lone mermaid sat sunning herself in the soft golden light, letting her long green hair drift gently on the warm salty breeze with her eyes closed in perfect relaxation.
She looked like a statue, poised there in graceful repose without a care in the world, despite the slow exhalations of her bare chest and her blowing green curls.
Essi drew in a breath herself, entranced by the mermaid's vivid charms and unable to take her eyes away from the startling sight.
It wasn't often she could allow herself to enjoy such a feminine form of beauty safely away from the eyes of others. It would arouse undue attention, suspicions, even anger in those who did not understand.
But the mossy-haired mermaid was in every way the equal in beauty to the white-haired witcher. And probably just as unattainable – for Essi knew well who it was that she looked at – they'd met earlier when she'd strolled on the beach with Geralt by her side
The famous Sh'eenaz, the powerful mermaid queen.
Who for some inexplicable reason, was betrothed in matrimony to the cruel and ignorant Duke Agloval – the one who had sneered down at Geralt on numerous occasions in petty-minded nastiness.
And as Essi looked, the mermaid opened one eye to stare right back at her, raising one green eyebrow above a sparkling emerald eye and singing softly in her rolling melodic language.
“Why did you stop playing? I was enjoying listening to your music very much.”
Essi blushed at the unexpected compliment, coming from such an esteemed reviewer.
“Why, thank you Sh'eenaz. But truth be told, I was admiring the view.”
The mermaid nodded absently.
“The sea is the source of all true beauty. You poets and bards must dream of her often.”
Essi frowned, remembering what Geralt had said about the sea. The witcher associated it with uneasiness, as if the waters were the source of all the free-flowing emotions that he was so terrified of expressing.
All the beauty of love and life that he could only run away from in dread and denial.
The bard nodded her agreement.
“I grew up beside the sea. It reminds me of home.”
The mermaid smiled, flashing her bright teeth.
“My people have a song about you humans. About how you once swam with us below the waves, until one moonless night where you crawled out of the water and got lost amongst the trees in the pitch black darkness. And when you tried to light a fire in the night to find your way home, the treacherous flames bewitched you with magic and taught you to burn down forests and tear up the earth.”
Essi strummed another chord on her lute in contemplation.
“It sounds like a rather sad song, Sh'eenaz. Perhaps it's even true.”
The mermaid cocked her head to the side, studying Essi intently.
“The best ones always are. Sad and true. That's why we like to sing them. Are you missing your beloved, Essi Daven? Where is your White-Hair on such a beautiful day? Why is he not sunning himself on the rock beside you, hmm?”
Essi felt her cheeks colour under the mermaid's gaze. Whatever could Sh'eenaz see, with those bright green eyes that could peer through the abyssal depths?
“He is not my beloved, Sh'eenaz. I barely know him.”
The mermaid sniffed in disdain.
“So he said to me. But sometimes, you don't need to have known someone for long to feel something.”
The poet strummed another chord on her lute, staring down at the strings with a studied calm.
“That's true enough. But he is not the kind who cares to listen to the heart's intuitions.”
The mermaid was still watching her every move, raising a flush across the musician's cheeks.
“It is a subtle song, Essi. Not all can hear the sound. My people call it the Cèol na Mara.”
“The song of the sea?”
“You speak our language very well. Perhaps you need a musician's heart to feel those waves and understand what they mean.”
Essi smiled at the thought.
“You sound like a poet yourself, Sh'eenaz.”
The mermaid nodded and preened in satisfaction.
“Beneath the waves, we have no flames to smith coins nor melt gold. Music, art and poetry are the currency of my people, Essi Daven. Perhaps you should visit us sometime. You would be a most welcome guest in my palace.”
Essi stropped her strumming and stared in surprise.
“But I can't breathe under water, Sh'eenaz. None of us humans can.”
The mermaid snorted and tossed her hair back on the breeze.
“Aye – more is the pity. There are such beautiful sights I could show you in the shimmering depths. I made the same offer to Agloval, but he doesn't want to come. My sea witch could create a lovely little tail for him with no fuss at all – but he will not even countenance such a perceived humiliation for my sake. He is not interested in my people or our cities under the waves. His love for me must be as shallow as a puddle.”
The poet offered only a commiserating strum on her lute, unwilling to discuss her frank opinion of the Duke in any kind of detail.
“Then he must be a fool.”
At this, the mermaid slapped her tail and laughed out loud.
“Ha, yes! That he is. But beneath it all, he has a kind heart. And that is what matters.”
Essi said nothing, and decided to change the subject to something she could speak more freely upon.
“Perhaps men are all fools, Sh'eenaz. I have a dear friend who loves the witcher so much that every day he follows him blindly into danger, chasing after him on his witcher's path as if one day his sacrifices will be noticed and his loyalty rewarded.”
The mermaid waved her hand at the breeze.
“All who love make sacrifices. Perhaps White-Hair makes sacrifices in return that you do not see.”
Essi sniffed in doubt.
“Perhaps. But I worry for my friend.”
“It is natural to be concerned for his poor human heart.”
“Yes, but I worry more that he'll come to harm one day. He's gone with Geralt down to the tideline now, to those steps by the Dragon's Fangs. Even though you warned Geralt that it was dangerous to go there.”
Sh'eenaz turned her head stiffly towards the sea, squinting in evident displeasure.
“They have gone there now?”
There was a sharp note in the mermaid's musical voice that caught the poet's ear instantly.
“Yes. I just watched them walk down the beach.”
A stream of colourful and melodic curses came pouring forth from the mermaid's mouth.
“The fools! Then I must go to them at once. Or I very much fear that your friend and his witcher will be feeding the crabs before nightfall.”
Without another word, the mermaid turned and dove fluidly into the sea, disappearing under the water and leaving no trace that she'd ever been sitting there on the rock at all.
And Essi watched the sea with blinking eyes, all thoughts of playing on her lute discarded – for fear for her friends and of whatever might be waiting for them out there in the swaying, groaning ocean now that the tide neared its turning...