Maid of the Wave

Under the sea, some ten or twenty thousand leagues, exists a creature we sailors like to spin tales about. There are tales about merfolk that sit atop rocks in the ocean and sing for the sailors; shortly there after delightfully watching their death. It was true, some merpeople did this, but for the most part the under ocean society had much better things to do in their day. It was only true of the merfolk who had special loves that demanded they stay above the waves. Most of the under ocean society had other loves, however. The only one who didn't have a special love was a young mermaid named Claire. From birth, she never understood why; no one would tell her.
It was no secret why she was never told the things she should have been taught, the reason that everyone avoided her like the plague was the fin that grew out of her body. It was long and slick and covered in glittering purple scales.

Purple scales were her curse, and often she wished that she could get rid of them. Perhaps they would just fall out one day, and new orange, yellow, or blue scales would grow in. This was the hope that kept Claire going throughout her childhood. She often dreamed of the day that her scales would fall out, like young teeth, and a more desirable color would grow in. Then, all of the people of the city would see her long shining yellow tale and everyone would flock to her. She would be even more beautiful than Naomi, and Naomi would be so jealous. Naomi would forgive her though, because despite her love for vanity, she also cared about her friendship with Claire.
As time passed, Claire soon found that her tail—like every other tail in the merworld—didn't work that way. The color she was born with was the color she would die with. For the longest time, Claire still held onto this hopeless and foolish dream, but it died out just a few days ago. Because, even if her tail turned into a lovely shade of green, no one would see it. No one would even care.

She was banished from her home, and to the rest of the city she might as well be dead. Much to their delight.

Cornelius, second born of the King Vertillo, let the current float him down beside Claire. Cornelius's biggest secret in the world, even bigger than his secret hidden personality, was that he was not good at starting conversations. When he finally relented to the commands of his friends, and he came to be beside Claire, he hadn't counted on the silence that he could feel in the water around them. He drummed his fingers along the tablet in his hands.

Everytime he opened his mouth to speak, he couldn't must words, and instead let bubbles of air float off into the great unknown. When he finally managed to emit sound, he began in a sort of calm and steady tone, "So…" lovely start. "I ran into your friend on the way over here…Heidi…wasn't it?"

Claire didn't respond, she turned her torso away and slowly her tail followed on the water and joined her. She once again held it to her chest and just ignored him. He watched her golden hair float off of her neck and carry on in the soft current and he stared at the blonde hairs on the back of her neck. In response to her turning away in silence, Cornelius could only rub at his neck. He dragged his hand across the back of his neck and around to the front, and thought about what he could say next. When a whole second had passed, his red eyes darted in her direction, and he saw she had no intention of being the next one to speak.

Away from his father and kingdom, he could finally muster the willpower to be himself, and a fat lot of good that was doing him. The feeling that at long last he was sitting by her was what made him muster courage to begin again, "She um…she gave me this rock. She was under the impression you'd appreciate clutching it to yourself."
He offered the tablet that Claire managed to savor, and waited for her to peak over her shoulder. Her long blonde hair obscured her vision, and she had to push it in the other direction with her wrist. Her eyes followed down from his red ones, along his broad shoulders, down his lean muscular arm, and to the tablet he was holding out to her. He didn't let go until she'd grabbed it with both hands.
As soon as she'd had it, she turned away again.

Cornelius wasn't a mindreader, and he certainly wasn't any shade of perfection, he found himself staring back at her neck and wondering what else he could do or say. What words was she looking for? What order was she looking for them in? What could he say that would break her from this clamshell she'd put around herself. At the moment, he felt, she was like a pearl, a jewel closed in the mouth of a giant mollusk.
It was enough to sit in silence when he was with Matthew and David. Whenever he needed…comfort…himself. He had no idea what she needed. Did she need silence? Did she need a distraction? Did she need him to say anything? If it was the last one…what did he need to say?

"I'm sorry." He said. The words came out like they were a foreign language. Out of all the responses he'd had going through his head, a simple apology seemed like the best one. The sudden shift in her position told him she was listening. There was no definite way to tell, however, if the path he was taking was the best one. Only, he felt he was on a roll either way, so he continued, "You've been treated wrong, a lot. I'm sorry no one has accepted you, and my dad….made a mistake."

Maybe, he'd been saying all the right things, and perhaps he'd just about made a breakthrough to the shining pearl he knew was inside, but that last comment closed the clam back up.
She whipped around, "A mistake? I don't get why you do so much for him. Why are you defending him? He doesn't even love you. Christopher is his favorite. He doesn't even know you exist!"

As soon as the words came out, Claire felt an overwhelming regret weighing on her entire body and crushing her. She wanted to apologize for what she said, so she opened her mouth and stuttered out, "Look, I'm-"

Cornelius held up his dark hand and she stared at the lines of his palm and halted her speech, "No. You're right."
He quickly raised himself from his seat. In a sudden turn for the quiet, Cornelius was swimming away. Claire watched his brown hair first, and when that was out of sight she watched his yellow tail. He disappeared around a corner.

The guilt she felt at such a curt and insulting statement drew her from her sulking. She swam over to where the rest of the group was and looked down at Matthew, who flexing the muscle under where his cut had been.
"I didn't mean to hurt his feelings." Claire lied. She knew very well that she had. Matthew looked up, "David will take care of it…"

Claire took the unspoken invitation to sit next to him, and she slowly and gently lowered herself next to him, and she clutched the tablet to her chest like a safety blanket.
He watched her tail curl up and squeeze the tablet to her stomach, then he said, "You have to understand where Cornelius is coming from. His father may have managed to affect your life outside the palace, but imagine what it's been like living with him."
Claire turned her head and stared at Matthew's chiseled face while he scratched at his cheek. He cleared his throat and began to spill to Claire all that she probably needed to know.