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@ladybmargaretsmyth
Ahoy & Salutations!
🏴☠️This is a Pirates of the Caribbean character account of an Original Character turned Canon. ✨Since 2003 🧭Inspired by hints from the PotC films and various old pirate films, sea myths, pirate lore, and anything nautical.
⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓
These are my Rules of Civility. I've been mistreated heavily on a couple Social Media platforms that have caused me to create and enforce these boundaries.
⚠️🚧👷🏗️COMING SOON! 🏗️👷🚧⚠️
Redemptive Measures
One evening Lord Beckett is confronted in his Office in London when a woman dressed in black demands ledgers for a certain timeframe. She refused to divulge information stating it's for Lord Beckett's best interest he doesn't know. She barely managed to escape from Mercer after convincing Beckett to give her what she needs.
The next morning, and for the next two weeks, all hell broke lose as men within the East India Company were arrested for treason and conspiracy against the King of England as well as the King of France. The issue could have destroyed Lord Beckett.
One morning, Lord Beckett receives a letter to meet with the mysterious woman in the forests north of London. So, against the advisement of Mercer, Lord Beckett rode out to the forests north of London around midnight where he met the mysterious woman. She gave him back the ledger and he learned her name was Margaret Smyth, a name he's heard before. As he departs from her presence, he swiftly returned to catch her before she disappears and confronts her. The tension intensified and nearly killed one another but turned unexpectedly into a night of indulging lust. As morning came, she departs and he escorts her halfway to the Port of London. Seduction once again before another confrontation and she bolts away on her horse leaving Lord Beckett frustrated.
Margaret had promised that she'd write Lord Beckett every day, but when letters never showed up for nearly 5 months, he believed she lied to him until one day over 90 days' worth of letters showed up at his residence. He read each one and for the next month, the letters kept coming with various reports from Margaret about her new life in South Carolina.
Until one day a letter arrived that alarmed Lord Beckett and learned she's pregnant. The next day, Lord Beckett departs London.
Lord Beckett sailed to South Carolina and each day wrought him with some form of misery. Finally, after 70 days at sea, he arrived in Charlestown, South Carolina and immediately sought Margaret's estate.
When Lord Beckett arrived at the estate, he found Margaret. That night she gave birth to twins; a boy and girl they named Charles and Charlotte; heirs and legacy to Lord Cutler Beckett. Distraught, Lord Beckett made efforts to hide them knowing full well enemies will use them. He stationed in Charlestown for a short time until he sails to the Caribbean to put an end to piracy.
Story is ongoing
OOC
I decided for a couple weeks to post summaries about some roleplay stories with AI images of scenes from the stories. Hope you enjoy them.
Tis good to be back at sea 🏴☠️
Despite how wicked some have been that nearly destroyed the Lady's heart, there were good people who encouraged the Lady more. Battles are constant and some believe wars simply end when they don't. Wars end only when there is an official treaty.
More so now the saying goes "Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned", yet the Lady shall abide more in "Tempt Fate! and toss it all to Hell!" Scorned she may be, but that is a burden upon the souls who did injustice to a woman's heart. As much as some prefer to lay fault upon her, perhaps themselves much gaze inward as the good Reverend and the Rabbi has been so gracious to guide the Lady in her deepest, darkest distress that felt more like being marooned.
And now? Well, now the Lady has decided to set sail again, explore the seven seas, sail to and beyond the horizon, and see what happens next. Will others grow with her or will they remain stuck in their ways? Now the Lady understands more than one thinks. We all need a compass. Not to simply point us to our greatest desires but to point us in the correct, moral, and just direction for our hearts. For our hearts are always where our Treasure is.
OOC: a return to test the waters
This shall be a test run in the next few weeks to see how everything goes online.
I've been severely angry over a situation that unfolded on Instagram where I learned the truth of who it was who informed a former writing partner about my Twitter/X account where I was tagged with someone and somehow that angered that former writing partner to where it caused some majorly severe problems leading to a discard, and more issues. It was this issue that hurt me deeply and I endured that while going through cancer and a heart attack. Not something you want to deal with simultaneously.
All I can say is that now I'm intensely cautious of people and won't hesitate to be selective. All I want to do is enjoy portraying Margaret Smyth, both canon and alternate universe, without people being shady.
Please, be kind to me. I react when provoked.
Degradation of Creativity
This is out-of-character ...
Please, stop bash and being degrading about AI art.
I will, from now on, consider AI bashing and degrading as Harassment. There's no constructive views but absolute trashing and hating. Hate is hate. I will NOT tolerate Hate. Period.
It's still an avenue of creativity. It's another form of Computer Generated Images (CGI) and Photo Manipulation and Editing. AI does exactly the same thing we humans do by using references. I use references when I draw to get the correct appearance, yes, that meant using images I found online from other people, which people accuse AI of doing the same. Imagine that. AI actually does what we humans do!
Plus, I had to stop drawing (as well as calligraphy, sewing, crochet, etc) because my hands stopped working. I typed for a little while before my fingers went numb and I lost use of my hands. All because I had major health issues, including cancer and major heart issues that are still continuing. While I am TRYING to draw again, which is still difficult because my fingers do tingle a little and the dexterity is not great plus my eyesight is worse than it was last year all because of those health issues. Be forgiving.
I've seen people on here bashed for being creative just for using AI, and the AI content was great! It's historical and appropriate, unlike some people's artwork which has been unreasonable, disgusting, lewd, inappropriate, and even the photo manipulations getting SO much praise when they are beyond foolish and inappropriate. This says more about you all who favor the absurd to satisfy your obsessions and going with the social cliques rather than being supportive of those in the fandom doing what they can to be creative and tell a story with the characters we all love. I know people use AI to help with spell check because of their eyesight issues as it's pretty much that is what spell check is as the computer is helping guide us with our grammar.
So, stop being Karens about AI. Let people be creative. The only issue we should have is people stealing the artwork without credit, which has happened to me with my drawings and photos that I posted on DeviantArt. So I stopped posting my actual artwork.
The only scrutiny we should have with AI as Computer Generated Images (again, CGI) is whether content is appropriate or not. Does the appearance fit the saga it's supposed to be a part of?
So, please, stop bashing. I'm honestly tired of people being Negative Nancys and Karens and very degrading, invalidating, destructive critical people nowadays. It's behaviors like this that's caused MANY, MANY wonderful and creative people to LEAVE Social Medias because they are tired of people who are unkind.
FYI... here was the last drawing I did before I started losing the use of my hands so I can draw but I choose to use what medias are available to express the stories that are in my head, to get the correct look that's in my head, and not spend HOURS or DAYS just to do one image. I don't have that time. I remember staying up all night just to do a little coloring on the computer or a drawing I scanned in on the copier, and it would take me days, weeks, months, just to finish something. Again, I don't have that sort of time nor commitment anymore. You all doing your artwork, you are still using a computer and a program to help you generate that art. Whether it's with words typed in using keywords and descriptions or a stylus with some computer illustrator program, it's still computer-generated artwork. Please, be considerate of people Creativity. As long as it's not lewd and porn, as long as it's not what someone created and you are using it without creativity (which poor Snake has had their stuff used like that all over the place), then just... lay off the AI hate.
Last drawing I did in 2024 just as I was starting to lose use of my hands. Now that I am cancer free and my heart issues are being managed, I will attempt to draw again.
It's early morning just as the sun crested the eastern horizon and Margaret Smyth is already awake enjoying a good cup of tea. An hour prior, she woke from bed and slipped on the blue floral dressing robe then left her bed chambers to the kitchen deep in the basement of the grand structure to put on a pot of water to boil. Once it boiled, she steeped the tea for the proper amount of time, then brought the tea up to the dining room where she sat down to enjoy the tea. Usually she'll enjoy a lovely cup of Bohea, but today she's trying the Young Hyson tea. She tried the Congou tea yesterday and although it was good, it wasn't a favorite by any means.
So here sits Margaret enjoying the tea freshly shipped and arrived. The young woman found herself being careful considering she's a new Housemaid at this East India Company building of both offices and residence for the Director. Plus, there is a new director who she has yet to meet. Does she even want to meet him?
She couldn't stay long because she's quite undressed and she's in the formal dining room which is fairly off limits to someone of her station. But the view from the windows is gorgeous overlooking the harbor full of East Indiaman trade ships. She smiles as the rising sun cast a warm glow over the African coastal landscape. A peaceful and welcome sight contrasting the sounds of lions roaring off the in distance late at night.
As she sipped the tea from the cup, her hand stilled because she heard footsteps - boots actually. He body tensed as she realized that someone else is awake and, God help her, if she was discovered! She sat there and listened, as the boots resounded upon the wooden floors partially covered with Persian rugs. Then the boots stopped at the doorway- "I do believe this room is restricted for formal use," came a rich, warm male voice. Margaret tensed even more as her bosom heaved. Oh, dear. She's in trouble now! She slightly turned her head and looked up while holding the teacup. "Apologies, sir?" There stood a man of slightly less than average height, hair well fashioned, his appearance extremely manicured, his piercing gray eyes shook her to the core.
Margaret Smyth hesitated as she steeled herself. She knew the risks, especially to go to one so risky. She knew the cost and hoped that if begun by blood, by blood undone! She deeply inhaled, swallowed, and made her way in as she pushed the door open to reveal the prison cell off discarded bones to one side the great cauldron ahead, and the woman oddly but barely clothed in the strangest attempt at a net over that slender body absent of hair. But those black eyes and those long sharp claw-like nails give way that she's not an ordinary woman. The ancient red writing on her skin as proof that she's bound by a curse.
The woman looks at Margaret, "I've been expecting you," she said with such a quiet melodious, smooth and alluring voice, seductive and yet malicious. Margaret slowly walks closer, "Then you know why I'm here." Shansa looks at Margaret, "You come at a great risk." "The risk is worth it," Margaret stated. Shansa stands there, "Time will tell if they risk the same." Margaret stiffened. "I'd prefer they don't." Shansa almost smiled. "They will." Margaret tensed. That's not what she wanted to hear. Shansa looks at Margaret, then turns to the cauldron and holds out her clawed hand.
Margaret sighed as she sacrificed herself for the sake of the future and those she Loved.
Continued from here:
💬 0 🔁 9 ❤️ 2 · Margaret stared distantly out over the glistening sea while Lyri spoke. That explanation made the heart ache worse and prov
Lyri watched all the emotions that came across Lady Margaret's face. She gave her the precious moments she needed to process. It wasn't clear at first what would come to pass- was she going to lunge for her? Cry? Scream? Anything was possible... but the lady let out that shudder of pain with a sigh of exhaustion... and wept. It wasn't a reckless, wild cry like Lyri would have made. She didn't scream and pound her clenched fists on the ground. She didn't wail and curse the sky. She just wept quietly holding the ropes and swayed with the sea. Perhaps that was yet another thing that set them apart.
Then, hearing the way she spoke of Cutler made her heart sink deep into the pit of her stomach. She felt that low hum of guilt deep inside that prodded at her already troubled mind. Would Lyri console her? Or, should she say the truth? Should she speak of what was on her mind? Would that break Margaret? Would she despise Lyri if she did?
"... I loved him differently. I suppose I knew a different man." She started. She waited a moment to test the waters, then she spoke up:
"I... recall the first time I saw him. I'd been following the Interceptor for some time. Hoping to ingratiate myself with her crew in some way. To be truthful, I wanted to find James. I'd met him a year prior when I'd saved Elizabeth from drowning in Port Royal... his eyes met mine and my world changed forever."
Lyri's eyes glossed over and she was lost in her own story.
"I found Cutler with him. And I found James still madly in love with a woman that did not love him back. He had no room in his heart for me then... And Cutler- he brought me to the Captain's quarters to chat with him amiably."
She half-chuckled with a shaky breath.
"Mr. Mercer lifted me up and brought me into the beautifully furnished room. Placed me on one of those soft seats you all have with the pillows... He sat me down across from Cutler- and his eyes followed me closely with curiosity and interest. He gave me what I wanted in that moment. To be admired."
A soft smile broke across her wistful face.
"His eyes glittered and studied me closely as though I were a piece of art that he'd always wanted. How I'd longed to be looked at that way. He offered me all the trinkets he knew I loved in exchange for information. And loyalty.... and.... he knew how to keep me loyal to him. He made me believe I was the only woman in the entire seven seas he ever wanted..."
Her voice trailed off. She knew that if she were to upset Margaret it would have been in that moment more than ever. She decided to leave out the rest of that part of the story... trying to take after the lady by being more modest about such sensitive topics. Of course, in merfolk society they were very open and free about these subjects- but it seemed different with people on the surface.
"But there were signs that his love for me wasnt true... He never let me follow him back to Port Royal where he knew you waited for him. He forbade it. Now... I know why. It was to hide you far, far away from me."
She coughed, half hiding a small gasp that threatened to turn into a sob.
"He is your's. His heart is your's. He always returned back to you. You were always waiting for him at home. Until you weren't..." She said, referring to Lady Margaret's dissapearance with Barbossa.
"If you have found the man that makes you feel like home... never let him go. Never lose sight of that... If you can find it in your heart, reconcile and return to him... I can't make the choice for you- but if I were to choose between home and adventure... well, the adventure is necessary to feel alive. But home... is where your heart lies..."
Margaret clung to the rope shrouds while a couple more tears silently streamed down her cheeks and consumed with the ache within her heart. She's still aware of the mermaid nearby and melts a little more against the ropes as if losing a little strength. When Lyri spoke, there's hardly any reaction or response from Margaret. On and on the mermaid spoke of those events and people involved. Still, there was nothing from Margaret.
Until she spoke of Port Royal. Finally, there's a reaction. Margaret's brows furrowed and slowly looked confused. Eventually she opens her eyes and shifts while turning her head to look at Lyri incredibly perplexed. "I wasn't waiting for him at Port Royal," Margaret replied a bit calmly but obviously baffled. "Last time I was in Port Royal, and it was brief, was long before Lord Beckett arrived." She almost shook her head and continued to be confused. "Lyri," she paused, "Men do as they please. That's their folly. I know every man has cravings for power as well as the attention of lovely eyes. I've unfortunately wasted myself on jealousy that clouds my judgement."
After a moment, Margaret straightened up while she still gripped ahold of the ropes and yet looks as if she had power restored to her. "Sometimes," she shook her head, "Home... is not easy to get back to." She paused a moment, "Much like the ancient story of The Odessey, there are never-ending challenges that keep one from reaching Home. Yet I still strive to reach that blessed destination of the place, and person, I yearn for." She gazes at Lyri gently lulled by the movement of the ship. "How are you so certain his heart desires me?"
"Then... why did he keep me from Port Royal?"
She thought deeply for a moment.
"What- or whom- could have possibly been there that he would have me stay far removed from it?" She mused, squinting into the distance slightly and chewing on her bottom lip.
"Men may do as they please, but so do I."
Lyri straightened her back a little.
"I like power and adoration as much, if not more... and I will tell you just how I know you are the one he loves..."
The mermaid's face became sorrowful at this, and she had to collect her thoughts before she could relay the tale.
"There were a few times I extended my magic enough to walk on two legs. This is especially helpful when I need to move quickly and quietly. One rainy night, when the ship felt restless- I remember stealing away from him as he slept- taking extra care not to wake him- and my curiosity got the best of me... I carefully rummaged through his desk- to find letters of sweet adoration from you. With it, a small portrait of your rosy face painted into a charm that he kept hidden away. He'd already penned two full letters in response, and each word written to you spoke of returning to you always. His perfect and undying affection- but most importantly- and I mean this truly... his true resolve to return, to leave the seas behind, and make you his wife. To have a home on land and create a perfect home with you."
Lyri's voice went from sorrowful at first to clear and precise so as to deliver the truth. She was not bitter, nor was she angry or regretful. She cleared her throat to shake off the last bit of emotion that threatened to pull her back to tears.
"So... like I said before. It is you that is the woman whom he will wed and live and die beside."
Margaret somewhat shook her head and barely shrugged in response to why Beckett kept her from Port Royal. There could be a variety of factors but one will never know unless they ask Beckett. Perhaps they will never know.
Margaret remain indifferent and unshaken while she listened to Lyri tell her about what she did. It didn't surprise her that she was with Beckett. It didn't surprise her that she was snooping around. It didn't surprise her that the mermaid told her about what she saw and believed. Meanwhile, Margaret just stares distantly at nothing while in a somber countenance and that is heavily displayed upon her visage.
"I appreciate your candor, Lyri," Margaret quietly replied. "And your attempt to uplift me, but the reality is and truth of the matter is that... we are NOT together. I'm not with him and he's not with me. Wishful desires and intentions don't matter where actions are required." She turns her head to look at the mermaid with those sad, glassy eyes that hint of tears attempting to well within them. "He's not come for me. He's made no actions to make me his Wife." She blinks slowly and even her heart ache shows upon her face, "I want to go Home," her voice breaks as tears well in her eyes. "I'm exhausted from wandering. I'm tired of being lost. I want to go Home." She looks even more sad, "But is there a Home to go back to?" She didn't know where Lord Beckett is even though her heart whimpered for him, calling out like it was on the verge of dying.
Margaret heavily sighed as she shifts and leans back against the banister bulwarks of the ship. "Either I go home... or I go into Eternity." Her voice cracks. She's obviously very exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It's showing. "Love means nothing unless action backs it up, Lyri. So far he's show no actions other than leaving me lost and wandering."
Lyri let her arms fall out to either side, and let her head fall backwards into the sun's warm rays. She cried out,
"Go into eternity?" She asked, incredulously. "Come now, life doesn't end when a love dies...!"
She turned her face back to Margaret,
"Then, Margaret! You have your answer! He has made his choice, and what is worse, he has led you on through this cruel charade of love. Now, perhaps it's more complicated. Perhaps he meant to wed you and love you...."
Lyri held both hands together and took a long, deep breath while shaking her long black tresses -like something between a plea and a prayer- and with great animation continued on...
"But!!! Even if this were so!!! An old pirate of all men gave you more love and care than he ever did! If Cutler wanted to be with you, he would have. If he wanted to be the man of your dreams, he could have been. But he is false, Margaret. Let him lose you, for he has let you slip through his fingers in his vain attempts to greedily grasp at everything else in this wide world as if it were his own..."
She let her long breaths fall into the silence again, her hands now open to the sun.
"Make your own home. Time heals the scars old lovers leave... I would know, after all" She smirked, "And once time has shown you that you can live without a false man who makes empty promises, you will find that the only person you ever needed to love you, Margaret, was yourself..."
Margaret had tears in her eyes while she stared distantly and listened to the mermaid. She pondered what Lyri said and that caused her eyes to drop to the deck of the ship as if she felt some defeat. The thought of Beckett caused such a deep ache that it's unmistakable in her eyes and countenance.
However, at the mention of an old pirate, Margaret shot her head up and looked at Lyri utterly shocked. "Hector?" her hazel eyes wide at and seemed like she wanted to say more but listened to what else Lyri has to say. And her words struck to the core of her heart.
Now Margaret stood there and felt even more lost. And more heart ache. Tears welled in her eyes. She wanted to argue with the mermaid and yet... she couldn't. Her bosom heaved as she breathed heavily at the reality and truth in those words. It hurt. She deeply inhales with a shudder as she turns towards the gunwailes of the ship and peers out over the sea. Her silence is the hard acceptance of the mermaid's viewpoint.
"I suppose so," she quietly replies. Her fingers gripped the wooden railing as she fought to breathe and the wind playing with her hair. "I shall always Love Cutler more than Hector. But your right. If he wants me... he can come find me. Until then... I make my own way. If a heart is true, it will seek their Treasure."
Continued from here:
💬 0 🔁 9 ❤️ 2 · Margaret stared distantly out over the glistening sea while Lyri spoke. That explanation made the heart ache worse and prov
Lyri watched all the emotions that came across Lady Margaret's face. She gave her the precious moments she needed to process. It wasn't clear at first what would come to pass- was she going to lunge for her? Cry? Scream? Anything was possible... but the lady let out that shudder of pain with a sigh of exhaustion... and wept. It wasn't a reckless, wild cry like Lyri would have made. She didn't scream and pound her clenched fists on the ground. She didn't wail and curse the sky. She just wept quietly holding the ropes and swayed with the sea. Perhaps that was yet another thing that set them apart.
Then, hearing the way she spoke of Cutler made her heart sink deep into the pit of her stomach. She felt that low hum of guilt deep inside that prodded at her already troubled mind. Would Lyri console her? Or, should she say the truth? Should she speak of what was on her mind? Would that break Margaret? Would she despise Lyri if she did?
"... I loved him differently. I suppose I knew a different man." She started. She waited a moment to test the waters, then she spoke up:
"I... recall the first time I saw him. I'd been following the Interceptor for some time. Hoping to ingratiate myself with her crew in some way. To be truthful, I wanted to find James. I'd met him a year prior when I'd saved Elizabeth from drowning in Port Royal... his eyes met mine and my world changed forever."
Lyri's eyes glossed over and she was lost in her own story.
"I found Cutler with him. And I found James still madly in love with a woman that did not love him back. He had no room in his heart for me then... And Cutler- he brought me to the Captain's quarters to chat with him amiably."
She half-chuckled with a shaky breath.
"Mr. Mercer lifted me up and brought me into the beautifully furnished room. Placed me on one of those soft seats you all have with the pillows... He sat me down across from Cutler- and his eyes followed me closely with curiosity and interest. He gave me what I wanted in that moment. To be admired."
A soft smile broke across her wistful face.
"His eyes glittered and studied me closely as though I were a piece of art that he'd always wanted. How I'd longed to be looked at that way. He offered me all the trinkets he knew I loved in exchange for information. And loyalty.... and.... he knew how to keep me loyal to him. He made me believe I was the only woman in the entire seven seas he ever wanted..."
Her voice trailed off. She knew that if she were to upset Margaret it would have been in that moment more than ever. She decided to leave out the rest of that part of the story... trying to take after the lady by being more modest about such sensitive topics. Of course, in merfolk society they were very open and free about these subjects- but it seemed different with people on the surface.
"But there were signs that his love for me wasnt true... He never let me follow him back to Port Royal where he knew you waited for him. He forbade it. Now... I know why. It was to hide you far, far away from me."
She coughed, half hiding a small gasp that threatened to turn into a sob.
"He is your's. His heart is your's. He always returned back to you. You were always waiting for him at home. Until you weren't..." She said, referring to Lady Margaret's dissapearance with Barbossa.
"If you have found the man that makes you feel like home... never let him go. Never lose sight of that... If you can find it in your heart, reconcile and return to him... I can't make the choice for you- but if I were to choose between home and adventure... well, the adventure is necessary to feel alive. But home... is where your heart lies..."
Margaret clung to the rope shrouds while a couple more tears silently streamed down her cheeks and consumed with the ache within her heart. She's still aware of the mermaid nearby and melts a little more against the ropes as if losing a little strength. When Lyri spoke, there's hardly any reaction or response from Margaret. On and on the mermaid spoke of those events and people involved. Still, there was nothing from Margaret.
Until she spoke of Port Royal. Finally, there's a reaction. Margaret's brows furrowed and slowly looked confused. Eventually she opens her eyes and shifts while turning her head to look at Lyri incredibly perplexed. "I wasn't waiting for him at Port Royal," Margaret replied a bit calmly but obviously baffled. "Last time I was in Port Royal, and it was brief, was long before Lord Beckett arrived." She almost shook her head and continued to be confused. "Lyri," she paused, "Men do as they please. That's their folly. I know every man has cravings for power as well as the attention of lovely eyes. I've unfortunately wasted myself on jealousy that clouds my judgement."
After a moment, Margaret straightened up while she still gripped ahold of the ropes and yet looks as if she had power restored to her. "Sometimes," she shook her head, "Home... is not easy to get back to." She paused a moment, "Much like the ancient story of The Odessey, there are never-ending challenges that keep one from reaching Home. Yet I still strive to reach that blessed destination of the place, and person, I yearn for." She gazes at Lyri gently lulled by the movement of the ship. "How are you so certain his heart desires me?"
"Then... why did he keep me from Port Royal?"
She thought deeply for a moment.
"What- or whom- could have possibly been there that he would have me stay far removed from it?" She mused, squinting into the distance slightly and chewing on her bottom lip.
"Men may do as they please, but so do I."
Lyri straightened her back a little.
"I like power and adoration as much, if not more... and I will tell you just how I know you are the one he loves..."
The mermaid's face became sorrowful at this, and she had to collect her thoughts before she could relay the tale.
"There were a few times I extended my magic enough to walk on two legs. This is especially helpful when I need to move quickly and quietly. One rainy night, when the ship felt restless- I remember stealing away from him as he slept- taking extra care not to wake him- and my curiosity got the best of me... I carefully rummaged through his desk- to find letters of sweet adoration from you. With it, a small portrait of your rosy face painted into a charm that he kept hidden away. He'd already penned two full letters in response, and each word written to you spoke of returning to you always. His perfect and undying affection- but most importantly- and I mean this truly... his true resolve to return, to leave the seas behind, and make you his wife. To have a home on land and create a perfect home with you."
Lyri's voice went from sorrowful at first to clear and precise so as to deliver the truth. She was not bitter, nor was she angry or regretful. She cleared her throat to shake off the last bit of emotion that threatened to pull her back to tears.
"So... like I said before. It is you that is the woman whom he will wed and live and die beside."
Margaret somewhat shook her head and barely shrugged in response to why Beckett kept her from Port Royal. There could be a variety of factors but one will never know unless they ask Beckett. Perhaps they will never know.
Margaret remain indifferent and unshaken while she listened to Lyri tell her about what she did. It didn't surprise her that she was with Beckett. It didn't surprise her that she was snooping around. It didn't surprise her that the mermaid told her about what she saw and believed. Meanwhile, Margaret just stares distantly at nothing while in a somber countenance and that is heavily displayed upon her visage.
"I appreciate your candor, Lyri," Margaret quietly replied. "And your attempt to uplift me, but the reality is and truth of the matter is that... we are NOT together. I'm not with him and he's not with me. Wishful desires and intentions don't matter where actions are required." She turns her head to look at the mermaid with those sad, glassy eyes that hint of tears attempting to well within them. "He's not come for me. He's made no actions to make me his Wife." She blinks slowly and even her heart ache shows upon her face, "I want to go Home," her voice breaks as tears well in her eyes. "I'm exhausted from wandering. I'm tired of being lost. I want to go Home." She looks even more sad, "But is there a Home to go back to?" She didn't know where Lord Beckett is even though her heart whimpered for him, calling out like it was on the verge of dying.
Margaret heavily sighed as she shifts and leans back against the banister bulwarks of the ship. "Either I go home... or I go into Eternity." Her voice cracks. She's obviously very exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It's showing. "Love means nothing unless action backs it up, Lyri. So far he's show no actions other than leaving me lost and wandering."
Continued from here:
💬 0 🔁 9 ❤️ 2 · Margaret stared distantly out over the glistening sea while Lyri spoke. That explanation made the heart ache worse and prov
Lyri watched all the emotions that came across Lady Margaret's face. She gave her the precious moments she needed to process. It wasn't clear at first what would come to pass- was she going to lunge for her? Cry? Scream? Anything was possible... but the lady let out that shudder of pain with a sigh of exhaustion... and wept. It wasn't a reckless, wild cry like Lyri would have made. She didn't scream and pound her clenched fists on the ground. She didn't wail and curse the sky. She just wept quietly holding the ropes and swayed with the sea. Perhaps that was yet another thing that set them apart.
Then, hearing the way she spoke of Cutler made her heart sink deep into the pit of her stomach. She felt that low hum of guilt deep inside that prodded at her already troubled mind. Would Lyri console her? Or, should she say the truth? Should she speak of what was on her mind? Would that break Margaret? Would she despise Lyri if she did?
"... I loved him differently. I suppose I knew a different man." She started. She waited a moment to test the waters, then she spoke up:
"I... recall the first time I saw him. I'd been following the Interceptor for some time. Hoping to ingratiate myself with her crew in some way. To be truthful, I wanted to find James. I'd met him a year prior when I'd saved Elizabeth from drowning in Port Royal... his eyes met mine and my world changed forever."
Lyri's eyes glossed over and she was lost in her own story.
"I found Cutler with him. And I found James still madly in love with a woman that did not love him back. He had no room in his heart for me then... And Cutler- he brought me to the Captain's quarters to chat with him amiably."
She half-chuckled with a shaky breath.
"Mr. Mercer lifted me up and brought me into the beautifully furnished room. Placed me on one of those soft seats you all have with the pillows... He sat me down across from Cutler- and his eyes followed me closely with curiosity and interest. He gave me what I wanted in that moment. To be admired."
A soft smile broke across her wistful face.
"His eyes glittered and studied me closely as though I were a piece of art that he'd always wanted. How I'd longed to be looked at that way. He offered me all the trinkets he knew I loved in exchange for information. And loyalty.... and.... he knew how to keep me loyal to him. He made me believe I was the only woman in the entire seven seas he ever wanted..."
Her voice trailed off. She knew that if she were to upset Margaret it would have been in that moment more than ever. She decided to leave out the rest of that part of the story... trying to take after the lady by being more modest about such sensitive topics. Of course, in merfolk society they were very open and free about these subjects- but it seemed different with people on the surface.
"But there were signs that his love for me wasnt true... He never let me follow him back to Port Royal where he knew you waited for him. He forbade it. Now... I know why. It was to hide you far, far away from me."
She coughed, half hiding a small gasp that threatened to turn into a sob.
"He is your's. His heart is your's. He always returned back to you. You were always waiting for him at home. Until you weren't..." She said, referring to Lady Margaret's dissapearance with Barbossa.
"If you have found the man that makes you feel like home... never let him go. Never lose sight of that... If you can find it in your heart, reconcile and return to him... I can't make the choice for you- but if I were to choose between home and adventure... well, the adventure is necessary to feel alive. But home... is where your heart lies..."
Margaret clung to the rope shrouds while a couple more tears silently streamed down her cheeks and consumed with the ache within her heart. She's still aware of the mermaid nearby and melts a little more against the ropes as if losing a little strength. When Lyri spoke, there's hardly any reaction or response from Margaret. On and on the mermaid spoke of those events and people involved. Still, there was nothing from Margaret.
Until she spoke of Port Royal. Finally, there's a reaction. Margaret's brows furrowed and slowly looked confused. Eventually she opens her eyes and shifts while turning her head to look at Lyri incredibly perplexed. "I wasn't waiting for him at Port Royal," Margaret replied a bit calmly but obviously baffled. "Last time I was in Port Royal, and it was brief, was long before Lord Beckett arrived." She almost shook her head and continued to be confused. "Lyri," she paused, "Men do as they please. That's their folly. I know every man has cravings for power as well as the attention of lovely eyes. I've unfortunately wasted myself on jealousy that clouds my judgement."
After a moment, Margaret straightened up while she still gripped ahold of the ropes and yet looks as if she had power restored to her. "Sometimes," she shook her head, "Home... is not easy to get back to." She paused a moment, "Much like the ancient story of The Odessey, there are never-ending challenges that keep one from reaching Home. Yet I still strive to reach that blessed destination of the place, and person, I yearn for." She gazes at Lyri gently lulled by the movement of the ship. "How are you so certain his heart desires me?"
Well, there's a familiar face
Lyri jumped slightly at the familiar voice, turning around from where she sat, perched on the side of the ship. Her shoulder rested on the ropes beside her and she reached for them to steady her against the rocking of the vessel.
Her tail flicked with interest.
"Lady Margaret Smyth.... That is, if you haven't shaken the title entirely at this point." She prodded, knowing her comment may ruffle feathers. The Lady was dressed in trousers, which even Lyri knew set her apart from a traditional Lady.
Margaret gazed at the mermaid without a reaction for a few seconds until a smirk slowly upturned the corner of her mouth. "The title remains," she replies in that typical rich, smooth, velvety mezzo-soprano voice. Her unique eyes looked over the mermaid, "and it seems you've not changed much either." She deeply inhaled, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the bulwarks and bannisters of the ship. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Well, naturally I haven't changed." Lyri said with a rare moment of sadness in her voice. A small insight into her mental state. Her tail flopped falling with a hollow thud on the side of the ship.
Years will go by, and all of you will grow older and age with time- but I will go on much the same." She sighed. "Which is why you and Cutler are well suited for one another. And why I was naïve to think I could ever be a part of it all... Not to mention now that he has the compass, I believe I have lost at least half of my purpose in his mind. Other than gathering covert information from other vessels, I find that I am no longer needed as I once was..."
She let her shoulders rise and fall.
Margaret barely, and briefly, smirked at the mermaid's remark. Yet as those unique hazel eyes observed the mermaid, Margaret's countenance became solemn. Perhaps even cautious. Her eyes glanced down at the tail as it flopped, she thought as if with purpose or irritation. Again, Margaret slightly and briefly smirked at the obvious knowledge.
However, the moment the mermaid mentioned Cutler's name, Margaret instantly tensed as her countenance darkened. She's fighting with her breathing to keep it under control even while her visage is intensely stern with a set jaw almost clinched. She tries to listen to all that Lyri said but her expression remained hard ever since Cutler Beckett was mentioned. For the longest time she remains silent while struggling with her emotions. Her eyes remained distantly upon the mermaid for another minute. Then her mouth almost pursed while she studied Lyri.
"Is that so," Margaret finally stated in a somewhat wry tone to her rich, smooth, mezzo-soprano voice. She could have said more, but she didn't. She just watched the mermaid.
"It should be no surprise that he turned his gaze back to you... I'm coming to realize that a mermaid is a creature of wonder on the surface- that I am not "one of you."
She let her eyes scan over Margaret to observe her obvious physical tension. Lyri was typically able to mask what was going on within her mind, and she marveled at how transparent Margaret's emotions were.
"A mermaid may be a lover- but she will never make a wife. That will be your privilege alone. Let that be a comfort to you."
She looked away for a moment.
"And... despite all my sacrifice... James still loves a woman that will never be his... and what am I left with? In the end, you win life and love."
Margaret listened to Lyri and yet didn't seem pleased in the slightest. She swallowed as she looked down while she continued to listen to the mermaid. The melancholy atmosphere was thick as the sea. Each word felt like a stab in the gut, or even in the heart. And yet, little emotion displayed upon Margaret's visage.
After a minute, as Margaret contemplated all that the mermaid said, she moved towards the sea creature, then sat down next to her. There's silence for a while as Margaret just seemed to look down at the waves absent-mindedly. Then she spoke.
"Love," she paused, "Is a difficult thing. Something I'm still trying to understand, too. Even after a broken heart." She pauses while her fingers flexed. "Don't be too hard upon yourself, Lyri. I'm learning that... Love... is never an emotion, but an action. Unfortunately, the actions of every being are not always Good. Love, however, IS Good. It's Holy. It's Just. And for any of us to abide and exude something that's Pure... is damn near impossible." She deeply inhales then soft exhales. After a few seconds, she turns her head to look at the mermaid. It takes her a moment longer to say anything more. "I don't quite have what you think I have."
Lyri watched with careful reservation at Margaret's expression, both of her brows furrowed slightly at the mention of pure love.
"Pure? Holy? Have you ever known a mermaid love or be loved with purity or holiness?"
Lyri restrained herself a little so as not to offend Margaret. She was an important ally and an even more important source for inside information. She had more ladylike sensibilities, after all...
"Sailors never have... Well, maybe when they are on land- your royal navy types will parade around and make a real show of their gentlemanly ways. But I know the truth. And it isn't pure." She said. The word gentlemanly was said with mild disdain and annoyance, but she kept her voice calm so as not to upset the lady so patiently sitting with her.
"And that's fine with me." She tossed her hair with feigned flippancy- a guise to protect her true thoughts from being known. "Let them be lustful scoundrels. I make no promises to any of them."
The truth was, Lyri knew the difference between the whirlwhind romances she knew and true love. She knew that real love was good, patient, kind, and pure. She knew that she saw it in James. She knew that when she looked deeply into his emerald green eyes and listened to him speak that he was capable of such love in his heart. And that it wasn't for her.
She knew that the spark she saw in Cutler's eyes when they would steal away was... Possibly love... The times when she'd sit in his lap for what seemed like hours as he deliberated and scoured over maps at his elaborate mahogany desk.
He would always ask her for more information- asking her what it was she had managed to carefully overhear while dealing with the pirates. Names. Locations. Secret deals. She knew how to find out. Even if it meant sitting for ages hidden undercover- listening to whispered words uttered between the changing of the night watch.
Inevitably, it would always end with them sharing more than just secrets... but was that love?
At Margaret's hint of a confession she perked up with targeted interest.
"...Don't you? Do tell me, why don't you have everything you ever wanted, hm? I am only the 'other woman', after all. You are the one who gets to go back to shore with him in the end..."
Margaret sat there and listened to Lyri while glancing down at the waves then somewhat looked at the mermaid. There's a meek smirk while pondering upon what Lyri said. "True," she simply replied in regard to the lustful behaviors of men. But women have behaved in such a way, too. All Margaret did was slightly smile and looked pensive.
After a moment, Margaret glanced at Lyri again as her smile is somewhat strained but it's still a smile. After she thought for a few seconds, she looks away from Lyri to gaze out over the sea. "Then why am I always alone?" She asked gently, quietly, but it wasn't entirely a question. She's hoping to open the other woman's eyes of the reality. After all, she's not with Cutler. Nor is she with Hector. One man she craves more than the other. Yet Margaret is hardly the choice to be devoted to; only the option to please. That breaks her heart that the hearts of men can be so easily severed. Margaret looked a little solemn as she pondered why she didn't have what she wants as Lyri inquired. All she could do is stare out to sea with such a somber and solemn visage. She couldn't even answer these deep questions.
At Margaret's claim that she had neither what she wanted nor either of the men she longed for, Lyri's ears perked up. In this siren form her features were mostly human, but if one looked closely, they would see the inconsistencies and strange little features that were common among merfolk. Her eyes darted back and forth between Margaret's, and she leaned in closer to read her expressions. She thought she saw a little hesitation, then sorrow.
"You're always alone because the sea is a lonely place. Going from ship to ship, chasing the horizon day after day... and the men that sail on them... A sailor needs to crave the sea, but also the distance that it creates between them and the ones they love. Or, at least be able to live with it- no matter how painful."
She waited for Margaret to mull this over- the lady looking a thousand miles away as she gazed out to the open waters.
"Cutler loves you, Margaret." She said, with almost imperceptible pain in her voice, as though she were admitting defeat. "I think it is safe to say that while on the sea... isolated so far away from the world and all the people in it... well, let's just say it doesn't lead to clear-headed, rational decisions. But his heart is yours, that much I am certain of. Even if for a time the rest of him was mine..."
The mermaid knew those last few words may hurt- but Margaret needed to know the truth. Lyri was never one to lie, and she felt as though the both of them were caught between a complex web of secrets that needed to be untangled.
She sighed with a shaky breath at her confession. She didn't know how Margaret would react to the news. Did she already know?
Margaret stared distantly out over the glistening sea while Lyri spoke. That explanation made the heart ache worse and provided no solace. True as it may be or sound, of what a sailor wants, was it really who Barbossa or Beckett are? Softly, Margaret deeply inhaled while silent and pensive.
The moment she heard Lyri make that declaration caused Margaret to waver. Her eyes fluttered and she couldn't breathe. For that moment, she remained catatonic staring distantly out at sea with the occasional wince. After a moment, a hand came up to grasp ahold one of the ropes of the ratlines as if she had to steady herself. Her fingers tightened around the hempen shroud as her body swayed and leaned against the side of the ship and the rope. Her face became stoic while her bosom heaved slowly under the fabric of her attire as it concealed how much breathing was a struggle.
Those hazel eyes welled with tears before they fluttered to close. There's desperation upon Margaret's face to restrain her emotions but it soon clear she's incapable of controlling them, let alone contain them.
Silence hung there between them for a while. All that could be heard was the sea lapping against the side of the ship as it moved across the surface and the snap of canvas once in a great while because of the gentle wind. Margaret didn't rage but simply gripped the shrouds to keep her steady. Soon a tear streamed down her sorrowful face. "I've never wanted anything more," she meekly whimpered.
A sharp nasal inhale while a couple more tears fell as Margaret melts more against the shrouds almost as if she's dreaming of being held as her other arm wraps around her. A brief reminiscing smile before she spoke again, "With Hector I wanted nothing but freedom and independence, the adventure, the challenge, the excitement, to defy the odds and Society and men, to be as whomever I choose to be." Then she slowly opens her eyes and softens from the nearly intense woman a moment ago. Now those eyes held tears and yearning. "But Cutler?" She barely muttered so vulnerable, "he feels like Home." A tear streams down her cheek while distantly staring. "He's peace. Safety. Every fiber of my being... desperately... needs him. I can be on the far side of the world yet the mere thought of him soothes me. Only he can tame and quiet my intense spirit. I disarmed myself and fell before my enemy to lay at his feet in submission. There I found a part of me that never knew existed. I thought I was free before, but I wasn't. With Cutler I AM free. I'm free. I'm safe. I'm at peace. I'm... Home."
Winter Escapade
Late one night in the middle of winter, Margaret rode through the snow not with any destination in mind but for the purpose of a simple escape. The chill was tolerable as the winter wonderland sparkled in the moonlight. The ethereal scenery brought a little smile to her face while she quietly enjoyed the landscape. The snow barely crunched under the hooves of the horse only adding to the absolute silence all around her. Not a bird, not the wind, nothing caused sound other than the breathes of her and the horse as well as the quiet hoofbeats in the snow.
Such silent beauty for her to enjoy.
Well, there's a familiar face
Lyri jumped slightly at the familiar voice, turning around from where she sat, perched on the side of the ship. Her shoulder rested on the ropes beside her and she reached for them to steady her against the rocking of the vessel.
Her tail flicked with interest.
"Lady Margaret Smyth.... That is, if you haven't shaken the title entirely at this point." She prodded, knowing her comment may ruffle feathers. The Lady was dressed in trousers, which even Lyri knew set her apart from a traditional Lady.
Margaret gazed at the mermaid without a reaction for a few seconds until a smirk slowly upturned the corner of her mouth. "The title remains," she replies in that typical rich, smooth, velvety mezzo-soprano voice. Her unique eyes looked over the mermaid, "and it seems you've not changed much either." She deeply inhaled, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the bulwarks and bannisters of the ship. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Well, naturally I haven't changed." Lyri said with a rare moment of sadness in her voice. A small insight into her mental state. Her tail flopped falling with a hollow thud on the side of the ship.
Years will go by, and all of you will grow older and age with time- but I will go on much the same." She sighed. "Which is why you and Cutler are well suited for one another. And why I was naïve to think I could ever be a part of it all... Not to mention now that he has the compass, I believe I have lost at least half of my purpose in his mind. Other than gathering covert information from other vessels, I find that I am no longer needed as I once was..."
She let her shoulders rise and fall.
Margaret barely, and briefly, smirked at the mermaid's remark. Yet as those unique hazel eyes observed the mermaid, Margaret's countenance became solemn. Perhaps even cautious. Her eyes glanced down at the tail as it flopped, she thought as if with purpose or irritation. Again, Margaret slightly and briefly smirked at the obvious knowledge.
However, the moment the mermaid mentioned Cutler's name, Margaret instantly tensed as her countenance darkened. She's fighting with her breathing to keep it under control even while her visage is intensely stern with a set jaw almost clinched. She tries to listen to all that Lyri said but her expression remained hard ever since Cutler Beckett was mentioned. For the longest time she remains silent while struggling with her emotions. Her eyes remained distantly upon the mermaid for another minute. Then her mouth almost pursed while she studied Lyri.
"Is that so," Margaret finally stated in a somewhat wry tone to her rich, smooth, mezzo-soprano voice. She could have said more, but she didn't. She just watched the mermaid.
"It should be no surprise that he turned his gaze back to you... I'm coming to realize that a mermaid is a creature of wonder on the surface- that I am not "one of you."
She let her eyes scan over Margaret to observe her obvious physical tension. Lyri was typically able to mask what was going on within her mind, and she marveled at how transparent Margaret's emotions were.
"A mermaid may be a lover- but she will never make a wife. That will be your privilege alone. Let that be a comfort to you."
She looked away for a moment.
"And... despite all my sacrifice... James still loves a woman that will never be his... and what am I left with? In the end, you win life and love."
Margaret listened to Lyri and yet didn't seem pleased in the slightest. She swallowed as she looked down while she continued to listen to the mermaid. The melancholy atmosphere was thick as the sea. Each word felt like a stab in the gut, or even in the heart. And yet, little emotion displayed upon Margaret's visage.
After a minute, as Margaret contemplated all that the mermaid said, she moved towards the sea creature, then sat down next to her. There's silence for a while as Margaret just seemed to look down at the waves absent-mindedly. Then she spoke.
"Love," she paused, "Is a difficult thing. Something I'm still trying to understand, too. Even after a broken heart." She pauses while her fingers flexed. "Don't be too hard upon yourself, Lyri. I'm learning that... Love... is never an emotion, but an action. Unfortunately, the actions of every being are not always Good. Love, however, IS Good. It's Holy. It's Just. And for any of us to abide and exude something that's Pure... is damn near impossible." She deeply inhales then soft exhales. After a few seconds, she turns her head to look at the mermaid. It takes her a moment longer to say anything more. "I don't quite have what you think I have."
Lyri watched with careful reservation at Margaret's expression, both of her brows furrowed slightly at the mention of pure love.
"Pure? Holy? Have you ever known a mermaid love or be loved with purity or holiness?"
Lyri restrained herself a little so as not to offend Margaret. She was an important ally and an even more important source for inside information. She had more ladylike sensibilities, after all...
"Sailors never have... Well, maybe when they are on land- your royal navy types will parade around and make a real show of their gentlemanly ways. But I know the truth. And it isn't pure." She said. The word gentlemanly was said with mild disdain and annoyance, but she kept her voice calm so as not to upset the lady so patiently sitting with her.
"And that's fine with me." She tossed her hair with feigned flippancy- a guise to protect her true thoughts from being known. "Let them be lustful scoundrels. I make no promises to any of them."
The truth was, Lyri knew the difference between the whirlwhind romances she knew and true love. She knew that real love was good, patient, kind, and pure. She knew that she saw it in James. She knew that when she looked deeply into his emerald green eyes and listened to him speak that he was capable of such love in his heart. And that it wasn't for her.
She knew that the spark she saw in Cutler's eyes when they would steal away was... Possibly love... The times when she'd sit in his lap for what seemed like hours as he deliberated and scoured over maps at his elaborate mahogany desk.
He would always ask her for more information- asking her what it was she had managed to carefully overhear while dealing with the pirates. Names. Locations. Secret deals. She knew how to find out. Even if it meant sitting for ages hidden undercover- listening to whispered words uttered between the changing of the night watch.
Inevitably, it would always end with them sharing more than just secrets... but was that love?
At Margaret's hint of a confession she perked up with targeted interest.
"...Don't you? Do tell me, why don't you have everything you ever wanted, hm? I am only the 'other woman', after all. You are the one who gets to go back to shore with him in the end..."
Margaret sat there and listened to Lyri while glancing down at the waves then somewhat looked at the mermaid. There's a meek smirk while pondering upon what Lyri said. "True," she simply replied in regard to the lustful behaviors of men. But women have behaved in such a way, too. All Margaret did was slightly smile and looked pensive.
After a moment, Margaret glanced at Lyri again as her smile is somewhat strained but it's still a smile. After she thought for a few seconds, she looks away from Lyri to gaze out over the sea. "Then why am I always alone?" She asked gently, quietly, but it wasn't entirely a question. She's hoping to open the other woman's eyes of the reality. After all, she's not with Cutler. Nor is she with Hector. One man she craves more than the other. Yet Margaret is hardly the choice to be devoted to; only the option to please. That breaks her heart that the hearts of men can be so easily severed. Margaret looked a little solemn as she pondered why she didn't have what she wants as Lyri inquired. All she could do is stare out to sea with such a somber and solemn visage. She couldn't even answer these deep questions.
Well, there's a familiar face
Lyri jumped slightly at the familiar voice, turning around from where she sat, perched on the side of the ship. Her shoulder rested on the ropes beside her and she reached for them to steady her against the rocking of the vessel.
Her tail flicked with interest.
"Lady Margaret Smyth.... That is, if you haven't shaken the title entirely at this point." She prodded, knowing her comment may ruffle feathers. The Lady was dressed in trousers, which even Lyri knew set her apart from a traditional Lady.
Margaret gazed at the mermaid without a reaction for a few seconds until a smirk slowly upturned the corner of her mouth. "The title remains," she replies in that typical rich, smooth, velvety mezzo-soprano voice. Her unique eyes looked over the mermaid, "and it seems you've not changed much either." She deeply inhaled, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the bulwarks and bannisters of the ship. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Well, naturally I haven't changed." Lyri said with a rare moment of sadness in her voice. A small insight into her mental state. Her tail flopped falling with a hollow thud on the side of the ship.
Years will go by, and all of you will grow older and age with time- but I will go on much the same." She sighed. "Which is why you and Cutler are well suited for one another. And why I was naïve to think I could ever be a part of it all... Not to mention now that he has the compass, I believe I have lost at least half of my purpose in his mind. Other than gathering covert information from other vessels, I find that I am no longer needed as I once was..."
She let her shoulders rise and fall.
Margaret barely, and briefly, smirked at the mermaid's remark. Yet as those unique hazel eyes observed the mermaid, Margaret's countenance became solemn. Perhaps even cautious. Her eyes glanced down at the tail as it flopped, she thought as if with purpose or irritation. Again, Margaret slightly and briefly smirked at the obvious knowledge.
However, the moment the mermaid mentioned Cutler's name, Margaret instantly tensed as her countenance darkened. She's fighting with her breathing to keep it under control even while her visage is intensely stern with a set jaw almost clinched. She tries to listen to all that Lyri said but her expression remained hard ever since Cutler Beckett was mentioned. For the longest time she remains silent while struggling with her emotions. Her eyes remained distantly upon the mermaid for another minute. Then her mouth almost pursed while she studied Lyri.
"Is that so," Margaret finally stated in a somewhat wry tone to her rich, smooth, mezzo-soprano voice. She could have said more, but she didn't. She just watched the mermaid.
"It should be no surprise that he turned his gaze back to you... I'm coming to realize that a mermaid is a creature of wonder on the surface- that I am not "one of you."
She let her eyes scan over Margaret to observe her obvious physical tension. Lyri was typically able to mask what was going on within her mind, and she marveled at how transparent Margaret's emotions were.
"A mermaid may be a lover- but she will never make a wife. That will be your privilege alone. Let that be a comfort to you."
She looked away for a moment.
"And... despite all my sacrifice... James still loves a woman that will never be his... and what am I left with? In the end, you win life and love."
Margaret listened to Lyri and yet didn't seem pleased in the slightest. She swallowed as she looked down while she continued to listen to the mermaid. The melancholy atmosphere was thick as the sea. Each word felt like a stab in the gut, or even in the heart. And yet, little emotion displayed upon Margaret's visage.
After a minute, as Margaret contemplated all that the mermaid said, she moved towards the sea creature, then sat down next to her. There's silence for a while as Margaret just seemed to look down at the waves absent-mindedly. Then she spoke.
"Love," she paused, "Is a difficult thing. Something I'm still trying to understand, too. Even after a broken heart." She pauses while her fingers flexed. "Don't be too hard upon yourself, Lyri. I'm learning that... Love... is never an emotion, but an action. Unfortunately, the actions of every being are not always Good. Love, however, IS Good. It's Holy. It's Just. And for any of us to abide and exude something that's Pure... is damn near impossible." She deeply inhales then soft exhales. After a few seconds, she turns her head to look at the mermaid. It takes her a moment longer to say anything more. "I don't quite have what you think I have."
Well, there's a familiar face
Lyri jumped slightly at the familiar voice, turning around from where she sat, perched on the side of the ship. Her shoulder rested on the ropes beside her and she reached for them to steady her against the rocking of the vessel.
Her tail flicked with interest.
"Lady Margaret Smyth.... That is, if you haven't shaken the title entirely at this point." She prodded, knowing her comment may ruffle feathers. The Lady was dressed in trousers, which even Lyri knew set her apart from a traditional Lady.
Margaret gazed at the mermaid without a reaction for a few seconds until a smirk slowly upturned the corner of her mouth. "The title remains," she replies in that typical rich, smooth, velvety mezzo-soprano voice. Her unique eyes looked over the mermaid, "and it seems you've not changed much either." She deeply inhaled, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the bulwarks and bannisters of the ship. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Well, naturally I haven't changed." Lyri said with a rare moment of sadness in her voice. A small insight into her mental state. Her tail flopped falling with a hollow thud on the side of the ship.
Years will go by, and all of you will grow older and age with time- but I will go on much the same." She sighed. "Which is why you and Cutler are well suited for one another. And why I was naïve to think I could ever be a part of it all... Not to mention now that he has the compass, I believe I have lost at least half of my purpose in his mind. Other than gathering covert information from other vessels, I find that I am no longer needed as I once was..."
She let her shoulders rise and fall.
Margaret barely, and briefly, smirked at the mermaid's remark. Yet as those unique hazel eyes observed the mermaid, Margaret's countenance became solemn. Perhaps even cautious. Her eyes glanced down at the tail as it flopped, she thought as if with purpose or irritation. Again, Margaret slightly and briefly smirked at the obvious knowledge.
However, the moment the mermaid mentioned Cutler's name, Margaret instantly tensed as her countenance darkened. She's fighting with her breathing to keep it under control even while her visage is intensely stern with a set jaw almost clinched. She tries to listen to all that Lyri said but her expression remained hard ever since Cutler Beckett was mentioned. For the longest time she remains silent while struggling with her emotions. Her eyes remained distantly upon the mermaid for another minute. Then her mouth almost pursed while she studied Lyri.
"Is that so," Margaret finally stated in a somewhat wry tone to her rich, smooth, mezzo-soprano voice. She could have said more, but she didn't. She just watched the mermaid.
Well, there's a familiar face
Lyri jumped slightly at the familiar voice, turning around from where she sat, perched on the side of the ship. Her shoulder rested on the ropes beside her and she reached for them to steady her against the rocking of the vessel.
Her tail flicked with interest.
"Lady Margaret Smyth.... That is, if you haven't shaken the title entirely at this point." She prodded, knowing her comment may ruffle feathers. The Lady was dressed in trousers, which even Lyri knew set her apart from a traditional Lady.
Margaret gazed at the mermaid without a reaction for a few seconds until a smirk slowly upturned the corner of her mouth. "The title remains," she replies in that typical rich, smooth, velvety mezzo-soprano voice. Her unique eyes looked over the mermaid, "and it seems you've not changed much either." She deeply inhaled, crossed her arms, and leaned back against the bulwarks and bannisters of the ship. "I never thought I'd see you again."
