A Promise

Drunk

Grace sat in a chair, looking out at the sea, wondering how in the world this had happened to her, a servant from a noble family that just happened to have a siren for a mother and daughter. And then on top of that, throw her in, a nymph of the sea. It was passed coincidence now. Something was going on and she needed to find out what, before Lorenzo kicked her off his ship and left her stranded on some deserted island somewhere.

After leaving the tavern to return to the ship, she never did answer his question. She didn't trust him with that secret of hers, not that she had many. But this secret was larger than any other. She had hardly accepted it as true herself. It was teetering dangerously between belief and incredulous. On top of all that, she was to help the mermaids. But what had she decided? She did not know what she would do. Would she help them? Or would she just stand back and watch? Could she even stand back and watch? Could she watch as the world was turned from the inside out?

She needed some time to think.

They were back in the open ocean, sailing to the next spot to loot some treasure. All of them were itching to get their hands on more gold. Especially the lower crew mates. They wanted to do something more than swab the decks and clean the heads. Not that they needed to clean those very often. That wasn't all. They were the expendable ones. This was one way to prove themselves to the officers and the captain.

But that wasn't Grace problem. Not now. Now she had to deal with her own problems with Lorenzo wondering just what she was and Alice.

Alice hadn't spoken to Grace since the tavern. She refused to. Every time Grace tried to say something to her, Alice turned away, ignoring her completely. After several attempts, Grace stopped trying and just went about the ship. She was tiring of Alice's tantrums.

The ocean faintly called her name, pulling her from her recumbent position in the chair to outside, leaning against the bulwark. The crew payed her no mind, figuring she was out for a good reason. She had been helping where she could and learning what she could, but most of the time the crew just let her off. Grace felt like she was cheating them somehow. It was not in her to just sit and wait.

“Grace,” the voice from below carried up. Turning her gaze down, she grinned, finding the one person she hadn't seen in a while, Salome. The blond mermaid smiled, keeping her lips together, not showing her sharpened teeth. “The full moon rises.” Grace knew what that meant. She needed to make a decision.

Tamara gestured for Salome to come forward. “You have done well. Go be with your family. They have missed you.” The blond mermaid smiled softly, silently thanking her queen before swimming away. “Grace, you are at a crossroads.” The servant clasped her hands together, fearing what she might say. “You are no ordinary human. You are something more rare and valuable.” Grace swallowed the lump growing in her throat. She didn't want to know the rest. She didn't want to keep a secret, not if it was this big.

She then turned to her loyal servant gesturing him away as well, her bodyguard. He had been there since the beginning. Tamara swam to a wall, placing a hand against the carved stone. “You are a nymph. Born of a human father and a nymph mother.” Grace gasped, not even thinking of this before. It was not something one considered when looking into their ancestry. “Your mother,” Tamara hesitated in continuing as if it was hard for her to say it or to express with words. “she was a fine woman. Many a men wanted her, coveted her.” The queen turned back to Grace, gesturing to come closer, that it was all right to do so. “This picture,” Tamara traced the lines of the maiden, slinking silently from the fearsome waves. “is of the day she stood on land. One day that changed the course of history. The weave of fate has been torn.”

Grace didn't know what to make of it, any of it. The carving and her words. “I don't understand. Why tell me this? I can't do anything about it. I'm just a servant.” Tamara stilled her hand, not saying a word, waiting for her to continue, to spill everything within her out, but she didn't. Instead she stood there feeling frustrated that no one understood she was nothing more than a servant and never would be. Even if she was a nymph.

“But this is fate's path for you. You must set it right.”

“Set what right?” She bit her tongue at saying anything more, knowing she was speaking to a queen. It was not proper to question a queen's motives even if they were a mermaid.

Tamara raised her head, letting the light glint off of the golden tiara that nearly blended in with her hair. She looked up, staring into the light. “Our world. Our people.”

“But...” Grace looked down, confused and feeling lost.

Tamara interrupted, turning her gaze onto the servant before her. “You need to make a decision before the next full moon.”

“What decision?” she couldn't help but ask. She wanted to know all she could about what was happening. Grace didn't know what to think or do any more.

“Help your people or stand with the humans and watch us perish before your eyes.” Grace felt torn. She didn't want to see anyone perish before her, but then all she had known was humans and the land beneath her feet.

Tamara picked up her scepter, whistling for a guard to come in. A large man with a colorful tail came in, brandishing a spear that seemed to be of teal colored metal, something not found above the surface. “Take her up. Salome will retrieve you when the time comes.” Grace lowered her head, thinking. She knew she had until the next full moon to decide, to become something she wasn't or to stay as she was.

It might alter her future, but she had come to her decision over these long weeks. Nearly a month now. “I'm guessing I have to go now.” Salome nodded, hanging onto the ship. “Just let me tell Butcher.” Again she nodded. Grace moved away from the bulwark and looked towards the helm, only to groan seeing Lorenzo there. She searched for the familiar figure of Butcher, but he was nowhere on deck. Probably below deck.

Respiring deeply, she walked swiftly up to Lorenzo, hoping he didn't ignore her or shout at her. At least not now. “Captain,” Grace shrank away, not wanting for him to act out against her. Lorenzo glanced at her before turning back to the bow of the ship. She took it as a sign to continue. “I need to go with Salome. I'll be back.”

“Why? She's a mermaid. What connection do you have to her?” His questions resonated about something deeper, a distrust of her now. Now that he knew she had secrets. His view of her had changed.

Grace sighed before walking back down, knowing she would have to answer him some time, but now was not that time. “I must go.” She walked to the side before sliding over the railing and into the sea, popping up next to Salome. The mermaid grinned, showing her teeth this time. “Lead the way.”

He watched them go, diving below the waves, but he could still make out through the clear blue water their figures. Lorenzo watched as they went deeper, not once coming up for air. His frown deepened, knowing she wasn't all she said she was, which frankly she hadn't said much of anything about herself. Butcher sidled to the bulwark, eying the ocean, seemingly knowing exactly where the two were within the cyan waters of this tropical area. “Ya be annoyed.” It was an obvious observation, but Lorenzo nodded.

“She has secrets. Dark secrets. I can't trust her because of that.”

“Did ya befo'e?” Startled, Lorenzo turned to his friend and First Mate. Butcher stood there calmly. He just kept his gaze on the horizon, knowing his captain was watching him. “She ha'e secrets. Ya ha'e 'em too.” Pushing himself slowly, Butcher turned to the shorter man, grinning widely. “Your secrets may be bigge' than 'ers.” Lorenzo sighed, knowing that was probably true. He could trust almost no one with his secrets. His life changing secrets.

Leaning down, Butcher got close to his ear, whispering, “I'll let ya in on one o' 'er secrets. Ya met 'er mothe'.” Lorenzo's brow creased, not understanding that at all. He had met a lot of women, some old enough to be his grandmother; two were his grandmothers. Before he could question his friend, Butcher walked away, strolling up to the helm that Lorenzo had abandoned.

“Wha is dis stuff? It's good!” Alice yelled, clearly not in her right mind, breaking the silence of the deck. He confined her to his quarters, not trusting the crew to play nice if she was in the brig or the crew quarters. Now she somehow gotten out, but he had an idea how. “Bless it be! Dis stuff burns as well.” Alice staggered, giggling uncontrollably as one of the crew, Hobson by the looks of it, gripped her arms, grinning like any man that could and would take advantage of the situation. His hair pulled back, light brown, at the nape of his neck before flowing down in a braid. He always liked the pretty ones, but not many would go for him and his scars. They ran over his body, some deep and others not so much. There was a scar, deep and jagged over the right side of his chest. It was from a stab trying to get his heart, but forgetting it was on the left.

“Wha' ya drinkin' miss?” Hobson asked, looking at the nearly empty bottle, green in color. It was tall and cylinder in shape. “Rum?” Alice giggled, turning to look at him and running her hands down his chest, fingering a few of the scars.

“M-ay-be,” she snickered, finding something funny that none of the pirates could get. “Wha'ever was in-” she hiccuped which sends her into another fit. Lorenzo shook his head at the display that the two were putting on. “-dis!” Thrusting up the bottle, she stumbled backwards only to have Hobson catch her once again, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

“Aye, that be rum. Smell it on yer b'eath.” Alice smacked his chest before swaying away, giving him winks over her shoulder. She sauntered over to Lorenzo, tripping into his arms. “Be ca'eful cap'n. She be goin' down da bottle!” Hobson chuckled as Alice ran her hands up and down the cloth of the captain's shirt, pulling at the strings near his neck, the ones he never tied. She wrapped them around her finger, gently tugging them and in turn, pulling him forward.

“I want ya,” Alice whispered, wanting nothing more than to satisfy her desire, her need. Lorenzo was happy to oblige, never turning down a woman yet after offering herself. But then he figured he might get some answers before.

“Answers first.” She whined, pouting, but nodded, accepting his terms. “Grace is your servant, correct?” Alice scoffed, nodding. She looked annoyed when thinking of her servant now. “When you said she was 'her' daughter, what did you mean?”

Alice looked up at him, anger lining her eyes as well as her expression. She pulled away, seemingly sobering up. “She is uh daughte' of uh whore.” But clearly that did nothing for her speech. “One tha' tried ta capturrre my...my father's attention, but he didn't give in,” the noble said smiling, thinking of her father as a saint, as a person always doing the right thing. He could do no wrong.

Lorenzo leaned close, resting his hands on her hips. Pulling them closer, he whispered into her ear, letting his warm breath send shivers down her clouded mind. “And does this girl have no qualms about bedding a pirate?” Alice giggled, raising her arms to rest comfortably around his neck. “A noble, a daughter of such high stature wants to come with a pirate, a scallywag. The lowest of the low as some would say.” Alice gasped as she realized another meaning in those words. A blush crept across her cheeks and down her neck. She bowed her head, slightly embarrassed that he would do something like this in front of the crew.

“Should we not take dis-” pressing herself as close to him as she could. “-to yur cabin, Cap'n?” she questioned softly, fluttering her lashes, tilting her head just so. Smirking, he led her away, heading to his and her quarters underneath the poop deck.

Butcher snorted, shaking his head at the two. “They be pe'fect fo' each othe'.” All he could think of was that he was happy Grace wasn't here to see them. Just as that thought ran through his mind, Grace's head popped up over the bulwark. She climbed over, shaking her hands and brushing the water off of her. The image, shadowed to most, became clear as day as he looked at her. Her clothes changed to something like a second skin to her, flowing out in white waves, down her arms and down to her ankles. Her hair unbound and falling softly down her shoulders.

She stood there a moment longer before sighing and turning her gaze back over to the water. A smile. A genuine smile graced her lips. He had never seen such a smile on her lips. Turning to him, the grin was still there. Grace walked, sashayed even, up the stairs as if full of confidence now, something that wasn't there just moments ago. She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his cheek before whispering, “Thank you.” She sauntered down the stairs and into the captain's cabin before Butcher could even warn her, too stunned from the kiss.

She shut the door, listening to the sounds of breathing inside, harsh and from strenuous work or play. Grace tipped her head around the corner, glancing at the bed and sighed. “Again?” she let slip, not knowing one of them was still awake.

Lorenzo sat up, letting the covers pool around his waist as he stared at Grace. She stood there, taller than he had ever seen her. It was as some burden had been lifted from her shoulders. But she didn't smile. She kept her gaze away, down on the floor as she sighed and went to turn around.

“What do you mean again?” Slowly he remembered the first time, impromptu and under Alice's influence, but someone cleaned up their mess. Someone picked up their clothes. That someone must have been Grace. “You...” A groan left his lips, knowing she saw them the first time. It was not that he minded her knowing, but the thought of someone being so close without his knowledge frightened him.

She walked gracefully and without a sound. He ran a hand through his tangled locks, pulling harshly at the knots. “I can explain,” he started, but Grace put up a hand, shaking her head. Her heart couldn't take his explanations, not when she knew them all to well.

“Please. I don't need to know. It's not for me to know.” She bowed her head before quickly retreating to outside.

Tugging at her tied hair, Grace pulled it out before redoing it and tightening the bun. Walking up the stairs once again, she stood at Butcher's side, finding calm and comfort in his presence. “How did you come to be named Butcher?” Grace asked softly, looking at the one person that has stayed by her side, let her grow in her own time.

He sighed, not exactly proud of what he had done, but not ashamed of it by any means. He was a proud warrior that cut down his enemies, but at the same time, he had no mercy for them. “It be f'om wha' it implies.” Grace looked him up and down, knowing he could possibly tear a man in two with his bare hands. It frightened her knowing someone could and was that strong. “And no one could say me name 'ight.” He let a chuckle out, remembering some of the crew members trying to say his name. Some were close, but after a while, they just started calling him Butcher for the way he carved his enemies, hatching limbs and cutting them down the chest. He slaughtered any enemy in his path. No matter if they begged for mercy or for their lives.

“What is your name then?” She looked up at him, curious. She wanted to know. He gazed ahead, staring out into the white sails.

“T'laloc Ecuhli,” he clicked his tongue and the tones felt natural to him as he said his name. The one he hadn't said in over a year, if not more. Grace mouthed the name, testing it on her tongue, saying it better than his crew mates, but no where near where a native would say it. A blush formed on her cheeks as she realized that. “Butcher be fine. No need ta tongue tie ya self over me name.”

She shook her head, looking down as she gripped the railing, leaning back. “I want to try. It's never polite to not say someone's name.” Butcher chortled, turning away from her, smiling. “I apologize,” she said, misinterpreting his laughter as sign she had said something outrageous.

Butcher waved it off, smiling. “Nay, da'ling. It be fine. Just ne'er use ta such politeness.” Her heart raced as she bowed her head, feeling for once that she was appreciated. That she was something more than a servant. And now she had something more to do than to just serve. Now she needed to protect and save her people.