Ricky- the little mermaid…

Protecting his people was hard. You could tell.

He was always standing watch, holding an old rifle that could burst in his face at any moment. But, that is all you can muster in the forests. Old weapons.

Many times you were forced to makeshift your own weapons to survive; knives carved from animal bone, spears with rock sharpened tips, and your personal favorite, arrows carved of pure animal bone. What can you say? You have nothing but time.

Not to mention you aren’t forced to hunt often either.

The people fear you; they hand over offerings of food at least once a month, twice if they want good fortune.

You scrunch your nose at the thought of their previous offerings. Children.  You didn’t want the children! Instead, they would just turn up magically in their village again the next morning.

These were times of rejoicing for them, but times of hunger for you.

As of now, you are hungry again. Their gifts had not been sufficient enough for you to feed until the next offering.

You are forced to hunt.

Sighing, you tear your eyes from the man in front of you. You feel the string of your bow tightening across your chest, the arrows wiggling soundlessly in your quiver. Mindlessly, you pull your long raven hair back with a “ribbon” forged from the hide of an animal previously offered to you.

It had come in handy that winter.

No one has yet to ever actually SEE you. Just for fun, you go and walk around in nearby villages acting as a traveler. You often hear of yourself. They know you by your name in your tongue. When you are in town, they know you by a different name, Ariel.

 

You stiffen, the soft padding sound of hooves on loose leaves reaching your ears. Seconds later your bow is in your hands, an arrow magically knocked back against the string immediately.

You smirk. Perfect.

The arrow flies, the air humming as it rips through, the soft THUNK echoing in the silence of the forest as it hits its mark. You look down silently at the creature. A buck. Your luck! You beam, sliding down the tree to claim your prize.

Examining the creature, you hum a soft tune to amend for having to kill it, to send its soul off in peace. Satisfied, you slide the arrow from its neck slowly, the body moving, masking the sounds of another creature sneaking up behind you.

You freeze, feeling the cold of a barrel being pressed to the back of your head.

“Who are you?” a man’s voice growls, its breaks. He must be young. Turning slowly you look back at him feigning wide eyes to look more innocent and startled.

“w-what?” you say, swallowing for effect. In truth, you weren’t scared in the least, but it is best to appease the human. Their bullets can after all be fatal.

“Who. Are. You?” he asks slower this time, punctuating each word hard, willing you to understand. You can see the fear in his eyes. There will always be fear in the eyes of the humans as long as you dwell in these woods.

“A-Ariel…” you say slowly, keeping to your human name, who would believe you anyway if you were to tell him who you were? He would. He stares at you, as if seeing right through you.

“What are you doing here, Ariel?” he asks, his eyes boring holes into yours. He’s passionate. You gulp, lowering your head to seem meek.

“I am hunting sir…” he is young, he still has a baby face, but his eyes… you stare amazed. His eyes show that of a tortured man.

Tortured. The word rings hollowly in your mind.

 

“Did you hear about that new boy in town?” one girl whispers to her friend, looking around suspiciously. You sit two seats down in the small shop. It is not hard to overhear them. You listen in with dull interest. Sometimes humans can be interesting.

Her friend shakes her head.

“Who?” she whispers back, her friend frowns.

“The native… rumor has it, he was kidnapped by the evil queen” the girl gasps, her eyes wide. You roll your eyes. You know of this queen. She’s not quite… evil per say. She is pretty damn close though. She takes young men from villages, burning them afterwards, killing the remainder of the persons living there.

She keeps the men in her home, the castle. There, she tests how much of a “man” they are. She drags them through ruthless tasks, forcing them to fight each other. If they refuse, they are killed, or tortured. It depends of the mood the queen is in that day.

“I saw his scars” the girl’s voice gets even lower now. “he is covered…” the friend swallows.

“How did he survive?” good question. Most die, others, if they make it, are never heard from again. It is rumored that they are kept in the castle as the queen’s personal guards. I don’t understand why they haven’t killed her already to be completely honest.

She’s worse than me!

He stands there, as plain as the sun in the sky. Looking at him you realize something, hes beautiful. You blink in surprise. He stands there unwavering.

“Ricky?” you ask slowly, he falters.

“How do you know who I am?” I’ve heard your name somewhere.

You blush. “I… heard about you in town” damn, I’m getting good at acting!

He frowns pulling his gun away from your head.

“You don’t hunt in these woods. You leave it to the men. It’s dangerous.” He says softly, almost caringly. You muster a sweet smile, feigning a saddened look in your eyes.

“The men of the families hunt sir…” he nods. You pause. “I have no family sir. I must fend for myself.” He looks at you hard for a moment, not quite sure what to make of you. He is a curious one, not easily deceived. He nods.

“Do you need help with your catch?” he asks softer. You shake your head standing.

“Ani, gowamo oppa” you hum. He nods patting your cheek, catching you off guard. He smiles softly.

“Be careful” he says before falling back into his position to watch over the village. You haul your deer to your cave in the nearby waterfall. He never looks back once. It’s his training.

 

Days pass, your meal is gone, but soon the people of the villages’ line up to offer you their meals. You smile in satisfaction, that is, until you see Ricky. Your Ricky. You blink in surprise. Your Ricky?

Have I gone mad? Shaking it off you watch as he places his kill at the foot of a large rock, not far from where the others are laying theirs. You smile, watching as he motions as if to bless the meat with silent prayers and a quick hand movement. His deep, tortured eyes opening again once he is done.

Standing, he stares right into the waterfall, as if he sees you.

You know he doesn’t.

 

Months pass, the people continue with their offerings, and you continue to watch Ricky. He has a basic routine. He wakes up, patrols, rests, patrols, eats one meal and sleeps. You watch as he seems to lose weight. You don’t like this.

Why is he not eating more?

The people won’t let him. He is a cast away that is lucky enough to get a place to stay and a job to do to assist the community. Growling, you know you can take better care of him than this.

But who would want to be near a monster?

Him.

Every day it seems, he is near your waterfall, watching much as you are watching him, waiting.

 

One day, fighting breaks out in the village. You stray closer to watch in curiosity. Humans are so temperamental. Why fight? You only die!

While watching the fight you feel a tug, leading you to the river just a minute away. You look around curiously. Why had you ended up here?

Leaves rustle behind you as heavy foot-falls echo through the earth, vibrating through you. Looking up, you move to protect yourself. It is Ricky, your Ricky. There are men chasing behind him. He sees you immediately. You watch as his eyes widen, nearly tripping.

“Leave!” he mouths to you, noticing that the men haven’t spotted you yet. “Run!” by the time you register his words he is knocked to the ground by a blow to the head.

He falls with a hard thud, his body going limp. You feel your senses fading to black. You look at the men angrily. They had hurt YOUR Ricky.

 

There is a soft splash of water, the coolness of it pulling Ricky from his slumber. He blinks slowly, frowning at the pounding in his head. Reaching up he realizes that his head is wrapped. Slowly, he sits up.

You are cleaning rags, blood splattering your cloths. He watches you, looking around a bit. Around him are solid walls, Thick, rocky, solid walls that seem endless as he stares down the cavern. You look up at him smiling weakly.

“You’re awake” you sing happily, moving over to him quickly. He winces a bit but relaxes as you touch his head to check his bandages.

“Were you hurt?” he asks quietly. You blink before laughing a bit. “____” he adds at the end making you freeze.

“w-what?” you are truly startled. How had he known?! He chuckles lowly.

“I’m not stupid, you know?” he raises an eyebrow. “I knew you weren’t human from the moment I met you in the woods.” You stare at him, watching as no fear passes through his eyes, as no judgment clouds his mind when he looks at you. You smile.

“I never said you were stupid Ricky...” he smiles.

 

Two days later you send him back to the village, fully healed.

Days and months pass, he spies on the boarders of your water fall. You smile from behind the water.

“Climb up Ricky~” you whisper in his mind. He just smiles and walks away. This is your game.

He will spot you watching over him from the trees. He doesn’t invite you down, no. that would start rumors and he seems to hate the attention. Instead he just lets you watch him.

 

Before you know it, a year has come and gone. Ricky has gathered the courage to come into your “fortress” yet again.

He sits there, watching you.

“You’re too quiet.” He makes a face. You laugh.

“You’re too loud.” You state back, looking up from your work. He grins, somehow getting you to talk with him for several hours.

What is this boy doing to me? You wonder, amused.

 

A month later, all hell breaks loose. The queen and her army attack the village near your home. Glowering, you march out to meet her head on. This is your territory.

The entire way there you can see all of the signs of a war, the stench of blood and death burning your nose, making your eyes water, the whimpers and the rattled groans of the dying, the limp silence of the dead lying about your feet. You wince hearing the villagers’ strangled cries as they charge forward towards the queen’s men.

They don’t stand a chance… sadness washes over you. These people have been good to you, they don’t deserve this.

With a new motivation you sprint forward, slashing down every guard you come across. How dare they come onto your land and slaughter your people. The closer you get to the front lines the more you slash; your arms begin to get tired.

Ahead of you, you spot your Ricky. Watching in worry you watch as he slashes one after another, knocking them to their backs where they lay, still breathing. They just watch him, a new light in their eyes, as if they had just been awoken. He moves slowly closer and closer to the queen herself.

Running to assist him, you dodge the living bodies knowing they are of no threat to you anymore. The queen sees you, smirking.

Without a thought Ricky turns ever so slightly to see what she is staring so intently on. Your eyes widen in horror as she plunges a sword into his stomach, the tip sticking from his back. A scream burns your throat as you watch him fall limply to the ground, his hands around the sword weakly.

He looks up at you weakly, smiling weakly, a drop of blood glistening on his lip. Slowly, his head folds to his body, his chest stopping moving, blood seeping onto the forest floor.

Red takes over your sight. It’s as if you are looking through red lensed glasses, everything tinted with the devilish color. The queen only smiles cruelly at you.

“That’s life my dear.”

Crying out in pain you charge at her taking ahold of a fallen soldier’s abandoned sword. you slash feverishly at her only managing to hit her twice in your rage. She laughs bitterly at you.

“Ah, young love” she sings in a sickly sweet voice before she turns your own sword against you, diving it into your lower stomach. “Die with your lover.” She sneers.

With a gasp you fall to your knees. She giggles like a little school girl, kicking you in your head, knocking you onto your back. Looking up weakly you see Ricky’s limp body laying inches from you. Whimpering you crawl over to him, sliding the knife from your stomach.

“Ricky…” you whimper taking his hand in yours. He is cold. Tears form in your eyes as you feel your body giving in, blackness shrouding your eyes.

“live, please” you croak out pressing your lips to his softly, three drops of blood dropping against his skin. Pulling away you smile weakly whispering a spell under your breath. As the final word leaves your lips you fall against him limply, your last breath giving birth to his.

 

As his eyes open he cries out seeing your limp body over his.

“____!” he cries pulling you into his arms, begging for you to open your eyes. the queen stands there, watching with feigned interest.

“She died for you” she sneers. “Pathetic.” His eyes turn to her, his vision being clouded by hate and anger.

“you.” He seethes. “you killed her.” He gives him a grin.

“I did you a favor boy.”

Jumping to his feet, Ricky takes the sword that lay by your body. “I need no such favors from you” he whispers before slashing at her with new fury, his cuts aimed and precise. Effortlessly, he cuts down the queen, watching with unremorseful eyes as she lays at his feet, bleeding to death. None of her guards move to help her.

They only watch.

As she falls limp, he looks up, watching as the “fallen” guards pick themselves up from the forest floor. They stare at him, their eyes bright again, as if they had seen the light. One by one they kneel before him, each offering him their swords.

He just turns, sliding his arms around your small, frail body, lifting you with ease. He moves to leave, pausing when he hears foot falls behind him.

Turning, he sees an army of men, fallen into formation, waiting to follow after him.

“Our king,” one solider cries from the second row. Ricky just nods, walking through the forest, watching as wounded villagers, women and children all fall into step with the soldiers behind him.

 

He leads them to your waterfall home. There he carves you a tomb, building a giant, glorious city around you.

He never takes a wife. He never bares a son.

He dies many years later, only wanting his body to be set next to yours.

The king, and queen, of the forest laying together forever, finally at peace.