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Killian’s never liked this part of the ocean. It’s said that King Triton’s court lies beneath the perfect waves.
Triton is no fan of pirates, even less so since one of them killed his queen. The sea here has a thirst for pirate blood and he’s eager to make port, sell their goods, and be gone at first light.
He sleeps little, spends most of it on deck, hand on the wheel and eyes on the horizon.
The sirens attack near dawn. He doesn't see them until it's too late and they've burst into song.
It’s stunning, as every siren’s song always is, and completely irresistible. He clings to the wheel, keeps eyes fixed on the horizon, hearing the men shout to each other as they try to resist.
No one ever does for long.
Killian sees one man slip over the side, then another, and knows it’s only a matter of time before he does himself.
He wishes he could say he lasted longer than the others, but it’s barely the space of a heartbeat before he’s walking to the side.
Except when he strikes the water, surfacing in a moment’s clarity, Killian hears another song. A pure, haunting song that fills the air, floats over the water, and blocks out everything else. No siren could ever be capable of a song like this.
He treads water, holding his place, and sees his men turn back from the sirens and the rocks. The song goes on and on and he tries to follow it. The sirens have gone silent now. He can see them in the dim light, cowering on the rocks like the song is the most terrifying thing they’ve ever heard, and he doesn’t understand.
Something flicks by him in the water and when he turns he gets a glimpse of a tail. Hands brush his back, tease at his neck, and the song stops as someone whispers in his ear, “You should go, Captain. It isn’t safe for your ship here.”
Lips brush his cheek, lush and impossibly pleasant, but when Killian looks for the woman to whom they belong, she’s already disappearing beneath the waves.
A mermaid.
One of Triton’s court.
He doesn’t understand, but he’s not fool enough to argue either. No matter how much his heart longs to go after her.
*
They find the girl in the water come morning. She’s floating on a piece of driftwood, naked but for scraps of cloth, hair as red as flame and without a word on her lips.
The crew fusses and worries, but she pays them no mind. When she’s dressed and fed, she takes to the deck at his side. Her eyes never stray from the water, worry writ in the lines on her face, and he doesn’t understand the feeling that goes through him.
Or why he thinks, at any moment, he should hear that song once more.