tessari-the-dreamer - Tumblr blog

tessari-the-dreamer · 26 days

Text

I bow down to the author for giving me another inspiration and encourage you to read this!! 👏👏

Series: I will love you in all your forms (A series of AU where Garreth and Penelope will meet each other under different circumstances)

Salt and Seaweed

Summary: Pirate Captain Rookwood arrives to celebrate the Queen's birthday, bearing a special gift for her aquarium: a merman who can transform into a man. Garreth's fate seems to be sealed, destined to swim endlessly in a tank for the entire court to see.

Unless someone helps him escape…

Part 1 of 2 Part 2

AO3 link

Paring: Garreth Weasley x Penelope Griffith Merman AU Rating: T Word count: 3.6K Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, Rookwood is a Pirate (so what?), Garreth Weasley as merman.

A/N: a self indulgent fiction for my pirate heart, a last share before I leave :) Special thanks to me lovely beta reader Shivvy ^^

Penelope rolled the sleeve of her dress up to her elbow and leaned on the table, carefully avoiding plunging the cloth into the bowl of punch in front of her. Her wobbly image reflected in the ornate vase holding a massive centerpiece.

The strain in her hazelnut eyes behind her glasses was evident, as she extended her arm to grab a white daffodil from the composition.

The heavy head of the bloom rested on its stalk, threatening to fall onto the tablecloth. She couldn't let that happen—the Queen would be furious if she noticed such a trivial detail out of place, especially at her birthday party!

And as a florist, Penelope was determined to make sure her arrangements were flawless, even though the celebration was already underway, with the lively chatter of guests enjoying food all around her.

As Penelope's small fingers reached the bloom, she felt the velvety texture of its soft petals. A proud smile spread across her lips. She had spent years breeding the daffodils to achieve the perfect creamy color that her majesty loved so much. And over three months, she had battled the salty air and humidity of the island to grow enough blooms for all the centerpieces.

That pesky little bloom would not ruin her titanic efforts!

Stretching as much as possible, grunting in discomfort, she finally managed to grab it.

"Why are you stealing? Again?"

Penelope flinched as the flower slipped from her fingers, landing in the punch bowl. Its creamy petals turned red together with one of the laces of her corset. She cast a regretful look at the bloom, which gently navigated the sticky, fruity drink, then she retrieved the lace, trying to clean it up.

The courtiers were already so deep into their festivities, they would never notice the flower, most likely, they would drink it up with the punch.

"I'm not stealing," Penelope mumbled.

She wasn't so foolish as to repeat the same mistake twice, and she didn't like being reminded of such a shameful episode.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her friend, who was looking at her with eyebrows raised so high they nearly reached her hairline. Her mahogany hair was meticulously parted and curled in the most elegant style, as expected from the Queen’s personal beauty assistant.

"Pen, we've been working hard for months. Can't we just enjoy tonight?"

Sacharissa reached for Penelope's hand with a tentative smile, her green eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"I'm coming, Ris. Just let me check the last table first," Penelope retreated as she gathered her gown and quickly made her way through the courtiers toward the final composition before her friend could stop her.

Unlike Sacharissa, she didn't like being amidst such a huge crowd. She preferred the solitude of her greenhouses, where she could carefully tend to her plants and hide her face, marred by acne scars from her teenage years.

She had always felt so ugly compared to the clean, smooth faces of the Queen's maids, and not even Sacharissa's beauty poultices had really helped.

Perhaps they would work if she actually cared to scrub her face with them.

Shaking her head, Penelope reached for the last composition. The flowers were perfectly arranged in their vase. With a satisfied sigh, she turned, searching for a place to hide.

The guests around her, unfazed by her scurrying around, and still sated from the recent meal, lazily awaited the conclusion of the Queen's gift-opening ceremony before beginning the dances in the adjacent room.

Penelope slipped among them until she reached her spot and idly leaned against one of the massive sculptured columns at the side of the central nave. She deftly moved her hands behind her back and pressed her sweaty palms on the cool surface, relishing the refreshing feeling. As the chatter of the guests lowered, her spinning head rested on the sturdy marble, trying to gather the strength to stay awake after the hearty dinner.

Despite her summer dress concealing her sticky skin, she was still sweating under all those layers. Her mind was set on fetching a cold drink and sipping it on the balcony of her little room, reading some book enveloped in the peace and quiet of the night.

But duty held her in place.

She drew in a long breath, hoping to dissipate the mist in her tired mind; the ceremony wasn't finished yet.

The air was still heavy with the lingering scents of the lavish banquet, the fresh and tangy tones of the finest of wines mingling with the spicy aromas of honey-dipped meat and grilled fish. Even the gentle summer breeze blowing in from the open windows, carrying salty and fresh notes from the sea, couldn't quite dissipate them.

Twirling a lock of brown hair that had escaped her simple hairstyle in her finger, Penelope's attention was captured by the roaring announcement of the crier followed by the booming opening of the doors and the irregular clicking of booted feet.

She rose her gaze, curiosity piqued.

Limping beneath the bright chandeliers that adorned the hall's high vaulted ceiling, a tall man strode forward. Despite his injury, his gait exuded pride and arrogance, his gaze locked with the Queen's in a daring stare.

He cleared his throat, his confident gaze sweeping around the crowd gathered before him. A hint of a smile curled the corners of his chapped lips, hidden under a bushy brown mustache and a badly shaven beard.

As a flock of excited and inquisitive eyes turned to him, his attention remained solely on her majesty.

She sat atop her throne, draped in a pink summer dress adorned with frills and puff sleeves—a stark contrast to the displeasure etched on her features. Her dark blue eyes, cold and relentless as stormy sea waves, met his gaze with unwavering intensity.

Penelope, observing from her corner, noted the restless movement of her small, white teeth as she nervously chewed her bottom lip.

"If she's keeping munching like that, there will be no cream in this realm to straighten her wrinkles, I told her to keep a straight face," the quick remark made Penelope chuckle, as her friend approached her. Sacharissa slouched on the other side of the column, bringing a hand to her forehead in a dramatic gesture.

"Ris, one day you'll be locked up for treason. Her Majesty will find out you're just mocking her."

Sacharissa rolled her eyes, and waved her hand as if swatting the thought away.

"By the way, who's the gentleman? I never saw him, surely he has some nerve, presenting himself in that attire at the Queen's birthday," she murmured, raising an eyebrow, her tone low, hiding a tinge of worry despite her usual smugness.

Penelope shot a glance at the man through the odd hairstyles of a few ladies blocking her view; he was just raising up from a bow, inflating his chest to start his speech. She shook her head, she wasn’t sure what it was, but the shiver down her spine didn't suggest anything good.

"Your Majesty," his raspy voice with his thick, foreign accent resonated in the throne room, powerful and thundering, his authoritarian tone making it clear he was a man used to commanding and leading. A tough opponent for her highness.

Immediately the crowd shushed, their attention heightened.

"A pirate," thought Penelope, eyeing the tattered clothes of the man, from his tricorn hat to his shin-long iron heel-reinforced boots. His blue weather-beaten coat, completely worn at the elbows, couldn't hide the stains on his loose, sweaty shirt carelessly open on the front showing a muscled and hairy chest adorned with few deep scars.

Despite not carrying any weapon, the belt across his chest and the sash around his waist were completed with empty sheaths of what seemed to be multiple knives, a cutlass and surely a firearm of some sort.

Penelope could just imagine a knife hidden in his boots.

Her eyes trailed up again, and as the man opened his arms, she noticed a flower lodged in the front pocket of his coat.

She scoffed, recognizing one of the white daffodils from her compositions; that moron really stole one of them?

Of course he did; he was a pirate, after all.

Anyway, it didn't help his appearance, or what Penelope could only imagine was his awful smell. How he had managed to enter the throne room where they were celebrating was a conundrum she was curious to solve.

The man seemed remarkably at ease in this environment, and the Queen didn't flinch at his presence, keeping her gaze fixed and her hands steady on the armrest of her throne. They must have met before.

But where there was a pirate, there was a crew, and judging from the nervous glances exchanged between the guards at the door, there were likely more waiting outside.

"I bring a gift for the birthday of our majestic and benevolent queen," the man removed his hat and bowed deeply, so deeply that the tip of his nose almost brushed the shiny marble floor. Despite his deference, he didn't break eye contact.

His eyes gleamed maliciously under his brows. As he straightened up, the entire court glanced at the Queen, who simply nodded with a curt, nervous tick of her chin. Her neck was constrained by the white collar around it, another of Sacharissa's tricks to torment her.

The man smiled, a speck of gold glinting in his mouth. As he did so, the long scar trailing down from his left eye to his throat quirked, making his face even eerier.

Suddenly, he turned and raised his arm, bringing his rough fingers—thumb and index—to his tanned and leathery face. He put them in his mouth and let out a powerful, ear-shattering whistle.

"Bring the gift!" he roared, his voice booming in the silent hall.

Immediately, the main door swung open, and eight men, divided into two groups wearing similarly worn-out attire as their captain, made their entrance. One group carried a pedestal of some sort, while the other bore what appeared to be a coffin covered with a long black cloth.

"A treasure chest?" Sacharissa leaned towards Penelope, covering her mouth with her hand.

Penelope squinted her eyes, adjusting her glasses, a treasure chest couldn't be that long and surely wouldn't splash around, as the men advanced in the center of the room leaving a trail of water behind them.

Was it an aquarium? The Queen was fond of tropical fish and always eager to add more to her collection.

A new rare specimen would be the perfect gift for her.

The pedestal was soon adjusted and the coffin on top of it, then the men halted in the center of the hall and waited for more instructions with their hands behind their back, squaring their shoulders and casting smirking looks at the court.

The pirate stood in front of the coffin with a confident smile, his dark eyes gleaming.

He surely was ready for some performance.

"Your majesty, because of the benevolence you bestow upon us, I, Captain Rookwood, want to repay you with a gift that you will find undeniably precious due to its rarity., which rarity you'll find undeniably precious."

The revelers held their breath as the man snatched the black cloth and it slid down revealing a fish tank full of water.

Time seemed to stop as the eyes of the whole court were glued to the tank and its marvelous contents. They held their breath and gaped in astonishment, the haziness from the dinner now completely gone.

Penelope widened her gaze, she couldn't believe her eyes and quickly cleaned her glasses on her dress.

She had heard of such creatures, but actually seeing one?

In fact, in the tank, laying down on the smooth surface there was…

"A merman!"

"It's a merman!"

The voices around the court rose in waves, whispering in agitation, buzzing like bees in overcrowded hives. It was indeed a merman.

Penelope shook her head and blinked in disbelief, fascinated by the captivating view, Sacharissa next to her cussed under her breath repressing a gasp. The young woman's utmost surprise was soon replaced by a sense of anguish and pity.

It was a great gift, but what a price!

The creature was astonishingly beautiful, with a long, sinuous tail, covered in greenish and bluish scales, gleaming under the flickering candles and reverberating in a kaleidoscope of different hues, magnified by the glass.

The transparent fins at the tip were gently swaying in the water, but it was obvious the tank was too small for the poor creature since it was all constricted and contorted in the confined space with his arms squashed against the crystal surface.

The tail became thicker as it enveloped the bottom part of the merman and the scales didn't stop there, but trailed up his waist, adorning his stomach and his arms. As they reached his broad chest, they became rarer, scattering like smaller pebbles or seashells on a white beach.

Penelope's eyes finally traveled up to his face. He was of a stunning beauty, chiseled features on pale skin, contrasting with red, vibrant hair, floating gently in the water like anemones in the current. She couldn't discern his eyes, but he held a downcast expression that made her heart ache.

He wasn't happy to be there for sure, to be on display for everyone to see, like a prey amidst rabid predators.

Having caught everyone‘s attention, Captain Rookwood locked gaze with the Queen once more, and circling the tank started to explain how they had captured him, his voice exuding insufferable arrogance. It was a very upsetting story about a wild chase around some islands in the middle of a sea teeming with monsters and after days they had managed to finally seize him.

Judging from the size of the merman's tail, Penelope could only imagine how powerful it was under water, surely Rookwood and his crew didn't have an easy time chasing him.

The captain told his tale with a complacent look, finally hinting at the injury on his leg, just to add a dramatic touch. He then reached the point of the tank where the face of the merman was pressed against the glass, his breath forming a cloud of steam against the cold surface, red cuts under his throat —his gills— gaping in the stale water.

Penelope wondered if he had enough oxygen in the tank, noting the absence of even a trace of algae. She was used to understanding other creatures' needs at first glance, just as she did with her plants.

"And this is not the only surprise I have," Rookwood's smirk widened in a toothy golden grin that made Penelope's skin crawl. That wasn't the end of the show, a show the pirate was surely well accustomed to.

The captain knocked on the tank, keeping his eyes glued on the Queen's face.

As he did so, he took a step back, the front glass panel of the tank tipped over and the water rolled down with a splash, eliciting cries of surprise from the surrounding crowd, who promptly retreated.

The room soon filled with the briny scent of sea water, laced with a tinge of sour, while everyone was busy protecting themselves from the splashes, with the ladies gathering their skirts up their ankles and the men saving their shiny boots.

Penelope felt the sole of her shoes drenched, and she carefully raised on tiptoe to shift position, while Sacharissa next to her was straining herself from cussing out loud.

They both exchanged a look of exasperation: those were their only good clothes, prepared for the occasion, and surely they weren't keen on ruining them.

When Penelope's gaze finally returned to the tank, she couldn't believe her eyes: the merman wasn't there anymore.

In his place there was a young man in his twenties. A naked, afraid and handsome man.

He was crouched on the ground with his hands braced to the marble floor for support, casting careful and anguished looks around.

Shivering lightly, with drops from the tank rolling down his tense body, catching the flickering candlelight. His long tail wasn't there anymore, replaced by a pair of muscular legs, with thick thighs, as if the scales had melted once out of the water.

His vibrant red hair was now plastered to his face, reaching his neck in soft tendrils and framing his pale face with wide eyes which darted around filled with fear and uncertainty.

Where scales had once been, his skin was now covered in a myriad of freckles scattered all over his body. To Penelope's dismay, bluish, eerie bruises and charred scars marred his skin together with the soft spots.

Her heart sank, and she had to steady herself, bracing against the column in an attempt to not faint as blood rushed to her head, causing a dizzying feeling that threatened to overwhelm her.

Despite her weakness, Penelope forced herself to stand still. As she raised her gaze again, she sensed the young man's embarrassment amidst the hungry stares of the court. Whispers grew louder, with guests openly judging his naked form and making remarks that veered from appreciation to blatant insult.

At one nod from the captain, one of the men took him by the arm, urging him to stand up. As he hoisted him, the merman’s legs trembled violently; he wasn't used to them and he seemed exhausted, the weight of his body pressing down on them. However, the pirate paid no heed; he prodded the young man's flank, prompting a gasp as he struggled to stand upright.

His forlorn look deepened, his eyes betraying a mix of anguish and resignation, as if he had long since given up hope of escape.

Penelope bit her lip and averted her gaze, her cheeks flushing, while the ladies in front of her exchanged coquettish giggles and winking glances behind their fans.

Disgusted by their attitude, she turned toward the Queen, who was unfazed by the young man's nudity as she studied his features intently.

The captain surely knew how to captivate her interest.

"Does it speak?" Finally, the Queen asked.

'It', Penelope's stomach turned as she clenched her hands in tight fists; she was treating him like one of her pets already.

Undoubtedly, she was already dreaming of throwing him into her aquarium and watching him swim in the confined place, only to fish him up every now and then to entertain her court. As she did with all of them.

He would certainly be a fine show for the grumpy ambassadors of foreign lands.

"It doesn't, your majesty. It has never spoken to us, but it surely can sing, as one of my men swears to have spotted him while singing," replied Captain Rookwood confidently.

At his gesture, one of his men brought him a whip, and unwinding it, he gripped its leathery handle. "Let's see if we can make it sing for you, my Queen," he tilted his head with a malicious, slanted smile.

Penelope's heart ached, foreseeing what was going to happen.

The young man's skin, with all his cuts and bruises, told a tale too easy to guess.

"Sing," Rookwood commanded, his voice booming in the high vaulted ceiling of the hall, but the merman remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground, his sopping red hair hanging down, covering his face.

As the whip hissed, Penelope turned her head, closing her eyes and bracing herself. The air froze around her as another sharp blow was delivered and everybody around her held their breath.

It felt like winter now and the festive atmosphere of the lavish banquet was long gone, eclipsed as swiftly as the tide recedes from the shore.

Her stomach was now heavy with dread rather than food and she felt nausea threatening to overwhelm her.

"Pen, he's not hitting him," Sacharissa whispered into her ear.

Penelope raised her eyes, following the scene in front of her with bated breath and a parched mouth, drier than the sand. Surely, the captain wouldn't dare to ruin the Queen's gift, but by the way the young man was shivering, it was clear he was accustomed to tasting the leather of the whip on his skin—the marks on his body told a clear tale. Additionally, he seemed terrorized by it, his broad shoulders shrinking, keeping his eyes low, concentrating on the slippery floor as if he wished to melt into the pool at his feet.

As the Captain spoke again, urging the men to walk, he slipped on the floor and before he could regain his balance, the pirate hit him, this time for real. The echo of the whip hitting skin was only surpassed by the sound of a sword slipping from the grasp of one of the guards next to the entrance.

Penelope locked eyes with the embarrassed guard, his brown eyes full of resentment under the helm. She knew she wasn't the only one revulsed by the situation.

As Rookwood kept talking, Penelope realized she couldn't bear it any longer. Gathering her gowns, she took a step forward. "Ris, do you still have that sleeping draught of yours?" her voice barely leaving her lips.

"Of course, it's in the first drawer of the dresser next to the window," Sacharissa murmured. "Don't finish it, I'll need it," she added, casting a weary look at the scene in front of her. Maybe the thought of dancing the night away wasn’t that appealing anymore.

Penelope nodded, and with a final greeting, she swiftly left the room.

As she passed the door, the guard from before exchanged a knowing look with her.

#garreth weasley #love of my life #he's too precious to suffer like this #penny #you need to save him #garreth weasley fanfic #garreth weasley merman #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic

13 notes · View notes