The One That Got Away
This was written for JennyNemesis, who posted a gorgeous photoshoot of her merman, Lalyraa. It just called to me, and this is the result.
The One That Got Away
It was always the bubbles. Oh, he could feel the disturbance in the water, but it was the bubbles which truly intrigued him. Little bits of the world above, brought down into the world below and always seeking to return to that place from whence they came. He could watch them for hours, but they never lasted that long.
Always, always they sought to return.
Then came the one who couldn't return. Snared, struggling, sending signals of distress through the water and agitating all the creatures for leagues around. At first he watched, mildly intrigued, but then the bubbles started to dwindle, and the sharp, jerking motions lost much of their potency.
He frowned. This one wasn't leaving, yet the bubbles were still going away. He didn't like that. So he flicked his fin, drifting closer.
It didn't seem to notice his wary approach, or much of anything, really. The little jerking motions were all but gone, as were the bubbles. When he reached out and cautiously touched it, it managed to look more or less in his direction, but its eyes were unfocused, seeing through him rather than at him.
One little bubble drifted up.
Maybe there were only so many bubbles inside, and once they ran out, it had to go back to the world above to refill. This one had been down below for much longer than usual, and it seemed to be out of bubbles. Maybe, if he returned it to the place where it belonged, it would return again with more bubbles.
Decision made, he deftly freed it from the cords in which it had gotten tangled, pulling it close and giving a firm flick of his fin to send them sailing up toward the bright world above the waves.
There were no more bubbles.
The shock of going from below to above always unsettled him, but the one in his arms hardly seemed to notice. Carefully, he shook it, trying to make it understand that they were no longer below, but above, in the world it had come from.
For a moment longer there was no response, then it shuddered and shook, water spilling from its mouth as it made the most awful sounds. It clung tightly to him, shaking and shaking, until finally it subsided, simply leaning weakly against him.
He didn't know what to do now. He would need to return to the world below soon, but he couldn't take it with him, he knew that now. The bubbles could only last for so long. But it certainly didn't seem capable of doing much on its own, so he flicked his fin and towed his catch toward the shore where the sky and the sea came together.
It stirred as he set it on the sand, lifting its head to stare at him. He tilted his head, then reached out to touch the place from whence the bubbles came. It was soft.
Twisting, he dove back beneath the waves, returning to the depths where he belonged. That one had gotten away, back to the place it belonged, but there would be more.
With their bubbles.
The One That Got Away
It was always the bubbles. Oh, he could feel the disturbance in the water, but it was the bubbles which truly intrigued him. Little bits of the world above, brought down into the world below and always seeking to return to that place from whence they came. He could watch them for hours, but they never lasted that long.
Always, always they sought to return.
Then came the one who couldn't return. Snared, struggling, sending signals of distress through the water and agitating all the creatures for leagues around. At first he watched, mildly intrigued, but then the bubbles started to dwindle, and the sharp, jerking motions lost much of their potency.
He frowned. This one wasn't leaving, yet the bubbles were still going away. He didn't like that. So he flicked his fin, drifting closer.
It didn't seem to notice his wary approach, or much of anything, really. The little jerking motions were all but gone, as were the bubbles. When he reached out and cautiously touched it, it managed to look more or less in his direction, but its eyes were unfocused, seeing through him rather than at him.
One little bubble drifted up.
Maybe there were only so many bubbles inside, and once they ran out, it had to go back to the world above to refill. This one had been down below for much longer than usual, and it seemed to be out of bubbles. Maybe, if he returned it to the place where it belonged, it would return again with more bubbles.
Decision made, he deftly freed it from the cords in which it had gotten tangled, pulling it close and giving a firm flick of his fin to send them sailing up toward the bright world above the waves.
There were no more bubbles.
The shock of going from below to above always unsettled him, but the one in his arms hardly seemed to notice. Carefully, he shook it, trying to make it understand that they were no longer below, but above, in the world it had come from.
For a moment longer there was no response, then it shuddered and shook, water spilling from its mouth as it made the most awful sounds. It clung tightly to him, shaking and shaking, until finally it subsided, simply leaning weakly against him.
He didn't know what to do now. He would need to return to the world below soon, but he couldn't take it with him, he knew that now. The bubbles could only last for so long. But it certainly didn't seem capable of doing much on its own, so he flicked his fin and towed his catch toward the shore where the sky and the sea came together.
It stirred as he set it on the sand, lifting its head to stare at him. He tilted his head, then reached out to touch the place from whence the bubbles came. It was soft.
Twisting, he dove back beneath the waves, returning to the depths where he belonged. That one had gotten away, back to the place it belonged, but there would be more.
With their bubbles.