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Original RP Entry

"You're late, Mercane."

Starsea swam closer to the stone wall barrier against the sea. She had heard the clock chime the hour a while back, and Mercane was supposed to meet her on the hour for their monthly meeting. But the person on the shore was not Mercane...

"Who are you?" asked Starsea, her voice rising in pitch. Perhaps it was a trap? Was she betrayed? Panic set in and Starsea almost turned tail and swam away, but the figure in front of her lurched forwards and called out;

"Stop! I'm sorry I scared you!" He was a young man with a pony tail and a sabre. "Mercane was held up with something and she didn't want to miss you. I have what you want." He fumbled in his pants pocket and something in his hoof hit the moonlight, a bag. He tossed it onto the rocks in front of him and the bag jingled loudly.

Starsea swam forward and gathered the bag into her arms. Inside was a number of gold and silver coins. Starsea looked up at the pony on the store. "What is your name?" she asked in a low voice with a hint of a teasing tone.

The pony spluttered before answering, like he had choked on his own spit. It wasn't smooth. "Ah, my name, it's Clydeswell." He sat down on a rocky overhang to be closer to Starsea. "Are you a siren?" he asked breathlessly, but it could have been because he had just recently been choking.

Starsea batted her eyelashes at him. "I am if you think so," she said.

Clydeswell leaned forward dangerously. "What is it that Mercane is making payments for?"

"Uh uh," said Starsea, enjoying her teasing. "Not telling what I can do..."

Clydeswell shook his hair out of his face and rolled his eyes. He hadn't expected her to answer. "What will you do with the coins? Are there shops under the sea?"

"No, they're just pretty to look at," said Starsea honestly. "And Mercane seems to value them. The deal was for payment in something valuable."

"Coins aren't the only things which are valuable. And they're not easy for a girl like you to carry," Clydeswell licked his lips, choosing his words carefully. The merpony in the water gleamed like a galaxy of mauve and her image seared into his eyes. "You can use coins to buy beautiful things, things to wear."

"What kinds of things?" asked Starsea with interest, swimming closer.

"Bracelets," croaked Clydeswell before clearing his throat. "Hair-hair combs. Necklaces. Pins. If you gave me that pouch I could go and buy you something with it."

Starsea looked at him sharply, holding the pouch to her chest. If he was thinking of getting her treasure, he had another think coming.

Clydeswell sensed he had crossed a line. "No, forget it, you keep it... please, will you meet me here tomorrow?" Starsea was not convinced, and he saw it. "Or, just please, your name. Mercane didn't tell me."

Starsea was tempted to tell him 'Whatever you want it to be' but she held back. "Starsea," she said quietly and she sank beneath the surface of the waves.

Clydeswell jerked forward in shock at her sudden movement and only just saved himself from falling into the water. He felt like he was walking on air as he went back into the port town. He was determined to show her what he could buy for her and went into the finest pawn shop he could afford. With all his coins, and a promise of another handful from his next pay, he bought a gold necklace.

The next night, he waited at the shore for Starsea. He was not sure she would even come, but he knew that he would wait for her all night. His palms were sweaty. When she finally arrived, he nearly dropped the necklace when he gave it to her. She admired it from many angles and then put it on.

"Is it pretty?" she asked, pushing her hair back.

"Not compared to you," he said huskily. At that moment, he knew he was utterly lost for her. When he left her that night, he quit his job. He would need more money than his respectable position paid to keep Starsea bedecked in the finery she deserved. He joined a pirate crew and, while he was not bloodthirsty, he was ruthless when it came to finding hidden stashes, including those of other pirates. He could not go to shore very often, but Starsea sometimes visited the ship. She could not step foot aboard, but she swam in a beautiful dance for him while he hung from the deck railing, aching to be with her.

But Clydeswell, or, as he was known now, Bladeswell, and his booty had not gone unnoticed. He had acquired a bounty from the law and other pirates. No-one knew he kept none of the treasure for himself and that he sank it in the arms of a merpony. One foggy night, he was forced out of an alehouse and onto the decks of a rival pirate ship. Starsea saw them walk him up the gangplank with a cutlass in his back. Horrified, Starsea called upon her powers and the ocean rose; the waves thrashed; the ship which was Clydeswell's prison groaned. Starsea's fear of what they were doing to her love gave her talent strength and the writhing of the sea tore the planks of the ship apart; it began to sink. Starsea readied herself to rescue Clydeswell from the waves.

Suddenly, with no warning, a lantern from inside the stricken ship ignited the gunpowder store. A blast tore through the middle deck and a deafening force blew the top deck into shrapnel. Starsea's scream of anguish went unheard. She scoured the wreckage for Clydeswell as the ship sank and seawater put out the flames, but in her heart she thought she was searching for his body. When she found him, he was blackened with soot and she barely recognised him, but he was alive. He had attacked his gaolers, seized a sword and held them off with his back against a window. The explosion had blasted him off his feet and through the window into the sea. The glass and the flames had left their marks on him, his face and neck were burned and his arms cut.

Starsea dragged him onto the shore, but she could not tend him. She cursed her tail.

Mercane found Starsea at dawn and dragged Clydeswell away to find a healer. Starsea waited in the cold, lonely sea for the word that he had survived. She sobbed with relief in her cove. She ignored the sound of scraping sand, unknowing what it meant.

"Don't cry, my love."

Starsea turned, her wet face shining. Clydeswell was walking with crutches, his face was covered in bandages and his hair was burned off in places, but she had never seen him look more handsome.