Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
N ext thing Mo knew, he was being swept up by a large fishing net, hoisted up onto the ship. He tried not to move too much, lest he get one of his fins or the carry-bag around his shoulder caught in the webbing. Soon enough, men on both sides of a wooden contraption lowered Mo onto the deck, and Kent was there waiting for him, front and center. Oh, if he didn’t want to sweep him up into his arms right this moment and forget everyone else here. But he figured he needed to make a good first impression, and embarrassing Kent didn’t seem like the right thing to do. What a shame. But he’d manage.
Mo crawled off the net and the other men gathered it, placing it back near the contraption it was attached to. “Ahoy! Good afternoon everyone,” said Mo, wiping his wet hair out of his eyes. “A pleasure to meet you all. I’ve never been aboard a ship before.”
“Shall we get a chair for you or something?” asked Davies. “I feel rather strange with us all standing, and you sitting on the floor here.”
“Yes, that would be fine.”
Mo watched as Davies scurried off, grabbing a chair from a nearby table of some sort. Kent stood idly by, bouncing on his feet, looking directly at Mo. He had an incredible grin on his face, yet said nothing. But Mo understood. This was a big moment, not just for Kent but also himself. His heart pumped rapidly, blood coursing through his veins. Kent was so sweet and sincere, and if he was feeling the same emotions as Mo, he knew the excitement left him speechless.
The chair was brought over, plopped down on the wooden flooring. “Allen! Could you help him up, please?” Davies called out.
“Aye,” Allen responded. The tall, muscular man had long hair bright like a glowing sunset, a color Mo had never seen before on a human—only merfolk. Did he used to be a merman himself? Mo thought to ask, but had his thoughts halted as Allen put one arm under his tail and the other behind his back, carrying him up and setting him into the chair.
“There you go. My name is Thomas Allen,” he said with a smile, though not meeting his eyes. Strange. Mo was intrigued, and he remembered then—he saw Allen and his astounding orange hair the very first time he’d witnessed the crew of The Sterling Mer almost a moon ago. His mer survival instincts told him that Allen was not a threat and he had a friendly disposition, so his looks were more curious than anything else. Perhaps Mo would have more of a chance to converse with this man later.
“My name is Mo,” he addressed to Allen, and then to everyone else. He adjusted himself in the chair, getting comfortable on the hard surface. “Thank you for having me. And thank you for taking Kent on this journey. Should I call you Kent, or by your other name?”
Kent chuckled, stepping closer to Mo, lingering at his right side. “Perhaps you should call me Fareham, since that’s what everyone here knows me as. Don’t wish to cause confusion,” he said warmly, putting his hand on Mo’s shoulder. If only he could have more of that touch elsewhere. Later, hopefully.
“I understand. All right, Fareham.” The name sounded strange on his lips, but he figured he could get used to it for the sailors’ sake.
“Let us all introduce ourselves.” The man Mo remembered as the captain came into the group, and men parted ways to let him through to the middle. “I am Nathaniel Brooks, Captain of this ship. If there’s any trouble, you can report to me. Though if I’m not around, talk to Walker right here.”
Soon enough, all the surrounding men greeted him, and Mo heard too many names to remember all at once. But he knew he’d learn them all eventually, given time.
“Mo is a very blessed guest, and will assist in navigating,” continued Brooks.
“Yes, absolutely.” Mo nodded.
“You’ll need to report anything odd you find on the route to Allen, who is our sailing master. Does that sound all right?”
Mo eyed the burly man again, who gave him a timid smile back. “That’s perfectly all right,” replied Mo.
“Do you need a tub of water or something, if you’re to be on board?” a man whose name Mo couldn’t remember asked.
“That might be beneficial, yes. But you don’t have to prepare one right away,” he chuckled.
“All right men, all right.” Brooks waved a hand in the air, shushing the chatter. “You’ll each have your chance to talk with the merman on your own time. Right now, let’s get back to work.”
Slowly, the captain and crew trickled out and went back to their duties, leaving only Kent and a couple others near him. Allen walked away as well, but not before giving Mo a deliberate stare from head to tailfin. Curious. He brushed the thought aside for now, and turned his attention to Davies, who said to him:
“So, how did you and Fareham meet? I’m so curious how someone who’s not a sailor happened upon a merman.”
“Ah, well,” —he turned to look at Kent, whose cheeks flushed red— “I met him on the beach. It was a rather chance encounter, but soon enough, we saw each other and became friends.”
“ Friends , huh?” Davies gave them both a sly, devilish smirk.
“Oh, um, well—” Kent stuttered.
“Don’t tease him like that,” said Walker, playfully swatting Davies’s arm.
“Fine, Fine.” Davies rubbed the spot Walker hit. “But anyway, look, if you two happen to be more than simply friends, please don’t worry.” His expression softened. “There are a few other men here on board that share the same proclivities, and also spend their time together. If you know what I mean. So it’s of no issue to us.”
“You… you mean it?” Kent beamed.
“Yes, of course!”
Mo smiled as well, but then—he realized something. With Kent’s and Davies’s reaction, that meant… Kent never told the crew the nature of their relationship. For some reason, he assumed he had, or at least he knew the sailors were fine with them being open. But Kent truly had no idea what their thoughts were, yet went through with the plan anyway? It gave him an uncomfortable feeling, but he tried not to mind it. After all, everything was fine, regardless.
“However, I do recommend you still be discreet about it, at least at first,” said Walker. “While no one here will report you to any magistrate on land for such a thing, some lads are still wary of the concept. No one really knows who either of you are yet. Give them time, let them get to know you, and I can assure you they’ll be welcoming.” He smiled and nodded, as if to underline his words.
“So, no kissing for everyone to see, then?” asked Mo with a chuckle. He could see Kent blush even harder in his peripheral.
“No, unless the men know to expect it!” Walker laughed. “That’s all I’m saying. As quartermaster, I do ensure that every crewman is someone of open mind. We all come from different backgrounds here. But some lads are still coming to terms with that sort of preference , given the common opinion on land, you know.”
“Yes, K— Fareham told me about that,” said Mo.
“You two will be fine. I promise. This is something very important to me.” Walker smiled warmly. While he never said it outright, Mo had a hunch that perhaps Walker shared those same proclivities , too.
“And I’ll also assure you’ll be fine!” Davies pitched in. “Now here, I assume you and Fareham might want a bit of space to talk amongst yourselves. Call over any of us if you need anything, all right?”
“All right.” Kent and Mo nodded in unison.
Walker and Davies left them alone, walking off in different directions on the ship. Well, they definitely weren’t completely alone, given all the other men scattered around. But no one was paying them any mind, tending to their own duties. The hum of conversation was a white noise that would drown out anything Mo and Kent would say to each other, especially if they talked quietly enough.
“Well, we’re finally here,” said Kent, still holding his hand on Mo’s shoulder, standing next to him.
“Yes. This is nothing like viewing the ships from the water. But, it does feel strange that I can’t walk around with everyone else.” He laughed.
“That should be something we ask very soon, if anyone here knows a way for merfolk to become human.”
“Definitely.” Mo had his suspicions about the orange-haired man, Allen. But those suspicions might not have any weight to them than just that. A strange feeling, something odd. Though, either way, nevermind thinking of that, there was something more pressing that he needed to ask Kent.
“You never mentioned to the crew that… um…” How should he word this? “The way we are together?”
Kent lifted his hand from Mo’s shoulder to cover his mouth. “Oh no, I… I never did. Well, I did mean to tell them eventually. But I—I admit, I was afraid to speak up. With how, you know, people’s opinions on the subject can be, I didn’t want to make matters worse when everything seemed to be going in our favor…”
Despite being slightly bothered, Mo could never be angry at Kent for not willing to take the risk. This whole mission was already a big risk—from Mo killing Harris, trusting these crewmen with Kent’s life, and Kent leaving the safety of his home on land. There were choices they both had to weigh, and taking the opportunity they had—the one Mo had planted for them—appeared to be the best option for their desires.
“Don’t worry Kent, I understand.” Mo lifted his hand, petting the soft sleeve of Kent’s coat on his upper arm.
“You do?” He lowered his hand from his face.
“Yes, of course.” He smiled sweetly at his human. “Because—even if we were to keep the truth of our relationship more secretive around the crew, at least we could still see each other, and be together here every day on the ship. Whereas if you’d stayed on land, who knows what would’ve happened? Something happening with your father possibly, where you couldn’t come to the beach anymore, and I still unable to gain legs…”
“Yes, that there is exactly why I chose to come aboard this ship.” Kent smiled, reassuring him. “I no longer can stand being subject to my father’s influence when it’s not something I desire for myself. I wish to be with you. And if boarding this ship is the means to do it, then so be it. We’ll make it work. Hell, we already are! Look, we actually did it!”
The glee in Kent’s voice was contagious, and Mo couldn’t help the grin spread on his face, his cheeks growing warmer. “You’re right. We did it.”
“So anyway, earlier you mentioned you met a whale? Tell me more about that.”
“Ah yes, Noon!” He chuckled. “She is assisting me with following along the ship. I’m so grateful to come across her; she told me I can sleep on her back as the ship moves. As much as I’d love to attempt to sleep on board, I don’t know if it would be possible, given what I’ve said before.”
“Yes, I remember.” Kent nodded. “I remember quite well how exhausted you get exerting yourself on land.”
Mo gave him a smirk. “If only I could exert myself more. It’s been too long since a good… exercise.”
“Mo, please!” Kent laughed, holding his chest. “It’s only been since ereyesterday!”
“Still too long, in my opinion.”
“All right, I mean, you do have a point…” He laughed again, rubbing his fingers on his chin. “But anyway, as much as I would like that, we should pay mind to Walker’s advice. Take things slow, be discreet until everyone gets to know us. Which would mean… I probably shouldn’t take you to my private quarters for a little while.”
Mo sighed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I want everyone to trust us enough. I want to know these men as well, so the feeling is mutual.” He was reminded again of Allen’s curious stare. “You don’t know any of the men here, do you? What of that orange-haired man, Allen?”
Kent shook his head. “No, I’ve only met them a few days ago. Allen… oh, at the meeting we had at the tavern, I remembered he was worried you’d be a siren.”
Mo’s breath hitched, blood running cold.
“But I quickly told him, ‘No, he’s not. You’ve nothing to worry about.’ He understood, and the captain backed me up as well.” He smiled, completely oblivious to any inner turmoil Mo was feeling.
Mo sighed a most relieving sigh, glad of that. He sincerely hoped the magic of the Song would not creep its ugly head at any time during their journey. He didn’t know how he’d explain the sudden sickness to Kent without revealing everything. But what Kent said made Mo even more curious about Allen—did he have some sort of connection to merfolk? He shouldn’t be able to detect the Song’s presence unless he was mer himself. Perhaps he couldn’t; perhaps it wasn’t the Song that drew Allen to Mo, but something else about him entirely.
The thought tugged at Mo’s brain so. He had to find out.
“Well, I’m glad everything is fine.” He smiled at Kent. They continued chatting about everything and nothing until other men happened in on their conversation again, asking Mo questions of merfolk and life under the sea.
After spending time with Mo for some hours, the captain invited the merman to dine with them all on the main deck since it was a gorgeous day, and Kent was delighted. While not everyone could eat at the same hour due to their duties on the ship, Kent was still glad Mo could be around the crew some more. Each moment socializing was a step in the right direction—or should he say swim in the right direction? Either way, Kent learnt more about everyone there, and with how Mo’s handsome smile graced his face, Kent took comfort in the cheerful atmosphere. They really were here. Together. Amongst other people, not afraid to show Mo for who he really was. It brought so much warmth to Kent’s heart.
But as the sun lowered in the sky and blues turned to oranges, Mo needed to return to the sea. He opted out from being lowered by the net, telling Kent that he thought it’d be more fun and thrilling to dive straight off the ship. To which, Kent laughed and agreed. Before he lept off, Mo snuck Kent a quick kiss before anyone could see, and he threw himself into the water. Come morning, they would see each other again. Kent hoped his heart wouldn’t fail with how hard it beat in anticipation.
He found his quarters again belowdecks, in the small room under the forecastle. He lit the lantern on the dresser; whilst the sea crystal Mo gave him would’ve been a more practical solution to lighting, he’d left it at Fareham House, figuring such a precious gift was better kept safe at home. He took off the majority of his clothes and washed up with the basin, preparing himself for sleep. Honestly, he’d never slept in a hammock before. He’d rested in a hammock, yes, but that was different. While his stomach had settled for the most part since the sickness he felt earlier, perhaps that was only because he was keeping himself rooted on his feet. To be in a hammock, swinging with each sway and bob of the waves moving them… he would manage. It would be tough, but he’d manage.
He grabbed a pamphlet he’d packed in his suitcase and lay down, adjusting himself in the swaying hammock as comfortably as he could. It was rather humid inside the wooden walls from the hot summer sun earlier, so he figured he probably didn’t need a blanket… but who was he jesting? He never went a night without one. So he got up, grabbed a thin linen sheet from the drawer beside him, and draped it over his body as he lay down again. There, that was good.
Finally decently comfortable, he opened up his pamphlet. Of course, it was one about merfolk: Legends and Tales from Merfolk, our Companions Under the Sea. It told various stories that Kent always assumed were fictional, to which yes, perhaps they were. But he flipped to the pages of a certain tale that was on his mind, one where a mermaid became human.
It was one that he’d even found in another pamphlet, and one that he’d confirmed Mo knew as well. In the tale, a ship was caught in a storm, destroyed, and her crew fell into the ocean. But a mermaid was there, and saved one of the sailors from drowning. She brought him back to land, to which she sang him a lovely song, and after meeting each other more despite all odds, the two fell in love. Once they finally kissed for the first time, their love brought the magic forth, and gave the mermaid legs.
Love.
Kent felt a pang in his heart. Whilst Mo hadn’t saved Kent from drowning, other aspects of the story were painfully familiar. How they met on the beach time and time again, how they both sang to each other, how they kissed, how they fell…
Have I fallen in love with Mo?
He shut the pamphlet and quietly set it on the floor next to him. As much as he cared for and adored Mo, he never quite knew how to put his feelings into words other than that. But that was what this was, wasn’t it? Love?
How else could he explain the sheer tug in his heart every time Mo wasn’t around, desperate to see him again? The butterflies that filled his chest every time they kissed, every touch of their hands, every gentle word spoken. How terribly he wanted Mo to be here right now, curled up next to himself on the hammock, petting the soft hair on Mo’s chest. Not just now , he wanted it every day. Living together, sleeping in the same bed and waking up to his handsome face in the morning. To be with him forevermore.
It sounded like he wanted to marry him.
Perhaps I do?
He never could truly, legally, but the sentiment was still there. As ridiculous as it may be, it all started to make sense. With why he’d decided he couldn’t marry a woman anymore. Why he craved Mo’s touch. Why his feelings were so strong, warming his chest even now at the thought of his merman.
But if that was the case, how could Mo still not become human? Was there something they were missing? The mermaid in the story kissed her lover and then right at that very moment gained legs. Kissing obviously didn’t work for Kent and Mo. Neither did sex, but Kent wasn’t expecting that to work, either. Or was it something about saying those three words, ones Kent had never spoken yet, but wondered if perhaps he should…?
Would that do anything, though? Perhaps it wasn’t anything mechanical like that, and had more to do with the emotional connection? It was hard to tell what was true or not, when all they had for reference were legends that were written so vaguely no one could confirm or deny them. And those weren’t counting the legends that were definitely false, like a sea witch casting a magic spell (which wasn’t even real according to Mo), or a mer sitting out of the water at sunset (which Mo did every night they met—always keeping his tail).
There had to be something else, but Kent tried not to dwell on it. He figured if it truly was possible, they should find out eventually, so no need to worry himself any more. Perhaps one of the crew knew. If not, perhaps they’d meet someone else along the way that could help them.
Regardless, he was glad to be traveling with Mo. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner they could see each other again.