The Princess and The Piper

Chapter Twelve

"Eric? Oh, Eric?" The red-haired woman yelled about, searching for her drunken husband. "Eric?"

Seeking through both open and closed doors, above shelves and below cupboards, under tables and over counter tops, he was nowhere to be found. That is, until she reached her youngest and now only daughter's dorm.

"Oh, no," Ariel exclaimed, drinking in-- ironically-- her spouse's intoxicated, broken down state. There he laid, in all his despair, against the beautiful sea green wall of the young girl's bedroom, a near empty ale in his hand and tear stains sketched down his cheeks-- remnants of his seemingly non-stop tears. The puzzled mother glanced around the room for her offspring, unable to meet her dazzling stars in her eyes. "Honey, where's _____? I have brought back good news for us about father," she shared, earning a half-sober glare from her groom.

"Gone," he hiccuped, the tears returning just as quickly as they left. "She's gone, Ariel. He took her." The victim's father directed his attention toward his wife, thinking back to the day weeks prior when the sapphire-eyed shadow appeared in his daughter's bedroom. His eyes were bloodshot and clothes torn from the constant struggle, both emotional and physical. "We've lost another."

"No..." The mother collapsed onto the oak wood planks of her child's chambers, her eyes glazing over with the salty water that threatened to spill. "How did we let him do this to us again? We swore to protect her."

"She didn't deserve to be taken away from me. From us. What did we ever do to receive such punishment? We were perfect parents," he lied through his teeth, though his wife was unaware of his harmful actions in her absence. She never knew of the constant beating, the cutting, the drinking. None of it. She was never there and grew apart from her child and husband. Only he knew that he was guilty of his sudden resort that sadly grew into habit. Only he knew of the reason behind everything.

"I will not sit back and watch uselessly this time. I am going after her. I will find our daughter." She stormed out of the sea side castle, striding into the vigorous ocean without hesitation as her husband stared from above, realization soon knocking his skull.

A sudden breeze swept through the scene, wiping the picture out completely like dust and replacing it with that of a dark planked ship, the large copper mermaid sailing at the head as relentless waves crashed against the hull.

"All hands ahoy!" Eric yelled as he raised a clear, white sheet into the light of the setting sun, sailors boarding two at a time, all wearing similar white and navy blue striped shirts. Whistles sounded from below, originating from the mouths of his love and the King of the Sea himself, Triton-- his staple golden trident at his side, like always. "How long until our arrival?" he yelled toward the surface of the ravenous ocean.

"Til morrow," King Triton firmly stated in response. His majesty with his youngest daughter in tow disappeared beyond the clear blue sea as the prince and his crew raised the final sail, its ingredients including Pegasus feathers.

"Second star to the right, and straight on til morning," the guilt-ridden father muttered underneath his breath, taking his rightful place behind the wheel. The action always reminded him of his old sailing days before he met the red-headed mermaid princess.

Then, once again, the scene flushed away like graffiti paint after a hard rain.

Each of the sailors held sharp, iron swords-- cutlass--, their piercings none other than pure gold. Only the finest for his crew.

"Avast ye," announced the captain, his dark, shaggy black hair whipping in the wind of the high atmosphere as the death-trap island came into view in the near distance. Its tall green trees decorated the land, scattered everywhere except for one skull shaped rock.. "You are to find the demon and capture him. I want him alive! I want to be the one to blow the man down! He will pay for what he has taken from me!"

"Aye, aye, captain," the crew responded in perfect harmony as they raised their swords, readying themselves to 'feed the fish'. Each of them knew that with this island and its ruthless leader came death. Nothing but death. And it certainly wasn't going to be His.

"Land, ho," shouted a buccaneer from the crow's nest, lowering his telescope as he turned toward his captain down on the deck. "Only a couple more minutes, captain."

"Ready the anchor," he commanded. "Damn, Man-O-War," Eric called his precious ship, knowing of his sailing into Davy Jones' Locker itself. "I'm going to get back what is mine, if it's the last thing I do."

The lucid image swished away, leaving the frightening glare of a young green-eyed boy in its place.

A young girl kneeled before him, tears dripping down her perfect cheekbones as her breathing grew ragged. He lifted a hand to caress her cheek, touching her gently as if he truly cared, all signs of terror disappearing without a trace. "Shhh," he calmed her as he held her tight in his embrace. "No one's going to hurt you if I'm here," he told her. He promised her.

"Can you be so sure, Pan?" a man with short, dark black hair and piercing crystal blue eyes teased. His navy blue sailor pants were separated from his unbuttoned white shirt by the tying of a red ribbon around his waist. His spotless black boots were obviously just shone. The couple stared at the man huddled close together on the grass, a devilish smirk spread evidently on the captain's features. "As long as I'm here, she will never be safe. I told you, _____, I'll always find you."

I gasped as I awoke from my haunting slumber, reflexively gripping the wrist of the warm, calloused hand held firmly against my cheek. I laid on my side against the sturdy form of another, though I was not at all bothered. In fact, just the touch of their hand was sufficient to pacify me.

My eyes shifted north to the hard gaze of the young green-eyed boy from the dream. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. His face showing almost all but zero emotions all at once, if that was even possible. His thumb grazed the corner of my lips as he stroked my cheek, my eyes not removing themselves from his dazzling emerald irises; his trailed from mine south to rose-colored lips.

"You're safe now," Pan whispered as he slowly inched closer to my face, stopping directly before sudden contact was absolute, just centimeters away. His forehead rested against mine as our noses rubbed. "I wouldn't let anyone harm you." His voice held so much trauma, but still slipped out as soothing and tranquil as he meant it to.

His hot, minty breath against my face felt heavenly and serene. I gulped as I closed my eyes, afraid of what he would try next, but a small part of me wished I could let him have his way with me. A small part of me felt safe in his arms, just like he wanted, but the rest kept my guard up out of fear. I did not have the best relationships with men. My father instilled terror inside of me, making sure that everywhere I went, no matter how far, I will always be the scared little girl that I was that day.

I was already healing from my many fractured bones, the last thing I needed was a broken heart. Ripped skin grows back, strained muscles relax, shattered bones reconcile, but a broken heart stays broken, no matter how long you give it to rejuvenate.

And Melody. If he killed her, if my mind wasn't playing tricks with me, what do I make of her? What if he's playing the same game with me?

Was being with Pan a worse fate than going back home?

"Pan" I whispered so softly. "He's coming for me."

Instantly, he closed the gap between us, giving me enough time to inhale sharply before gently placing his lips against mine.