Page 68 of The Merman's Betrothal
‘You will be safe. I shan’t be far away,’ Fionn promised, internally tugging on the bond. Then, after a moment’s hesitance, he slipped Rory’s woollen hat out of a pouch from his harness. ‘I must confess to taking this when you removed it earlier. I know it is a great favour to ask, but may I request this garment as a gift for my friend?’
Rory shot the hat a perplexed look. ‘That tatty thing? Sure. If you think he’ll like it.’
‘With these, I hope he will.’ Fionn opened a smaller pouch and tipped out three small pearls. ‘He likes human things, I think, and also shiny things. So I hope to present a suitable peace offering to make up for my previous behaviour.’
Rory nodded and gave him a thumbs up. ‘Good luck, then.’
Fionn left him by the kelp entrance and called through. ‘Hello? Are you home, Neacel?’
‘Come in, Fionn.’
Inside, Neacel was floating in the first chamber, tying knots in a new net that was strung between two nails in the cave wall. He didn’t seem particularly aggrieved by Fionn’s entrance.
‘It’s been a while,’ Neacel remarked lightly. ‘How goes your courting on land?’
‘I…’ Fionn stumbled, thrown off by Neacel’s composure. ‘Are you not still angry with me?’
Neacel turned away from his net, eyebrows raised. ‘Still? Of course not. We exchanged some heated words and I for one am sorry for those I said. But such things happen between friends sometimes. You caught me at the wrong moment, that’s all.’
A flood of relief swept over Fionn. He hadn’t ruined his friendship with Neacel after all.
Neacel’s gaze landed curiously on the hat in Fionn’s palm. Fionn unscrunched it to reveal the pearls nestled in the fabric, allowing them to float upwards.
‘I brought this for you,’ he said, holding it out.
‘Thank you?’ Neacel took the hat between finger and thumb, apparently unsure what to make of it.
‘The pearls are very rare. I traded for them in the kitchens. I thought of maybe trying to sew them onto the hat?’ Fionn said happily, glad of a chance to show Neacel his appreciation.
‘Why?’ Neacel caught the drop in Fionn’s expression and hastily pulled his confused frown into something more neutral. ‘I’m sure it’s very thoughtful of you. I’m just not sure I follow the thought that has gone into it.’
‘It’s a human hat. And these are shiny pearls. Like the dress.’ Fionn recognised his song was turning snappish, driven by his growing frustration. He drew in a breath to calm down and curb his impulsiveness.
Neacel’s response was surprised but cheerful laughter. ‘Oh! I think I understand.’ He caught the three pearls before they floated away. ‘I do not like human clothes just for the sake ofthem, Fionn. But I think I see why you’ve taken it that way. Our culture doesn’t exactly allow for the same breadth of expression in our identities.’
‘What do you mean?’
Neacel stuck the hat over his short hair and performed a twirl. ‘Look at you and every other Minchman out there. Are we not all hardened, kilt-wearing, stoic survivors of the sea?’
Fionn cocked his head. ‘You are not.’
‘Exactly. I am not.’ Neacel’s smile wavered. ‘Truthfully, I am still figuring myself out. And I am, truly, grateful for your gift. But I am even more grateful that you did not blink more than twice upon seeing me in a dress, and that today you are still my friend.’
‘I am grateful for your friendship too, Neacel,’ Fionn sang in a rush. ‘And your patience with me. I know I have not always deserved it.’
Neacel beamed at him. ‘Will you join me for lunch? I am keen to hear how things are going with Rory.’
‘Actually. I have a surprise.’ Fionn more or less bounced through the water to stick his head out of the kelp curtain. He beckoned to Rory, who had been busy watching an octopus climb over the rocky seabed.
‘Isn’t it amazing how it moves?’ Rory sang distractedly, even as he followed Fionn inside. ‘I swear it was trying to communicate.’
Fionn presented him to Neacel with a dramatic flourish. ‘Rory, this is my friend Neacel.’
Neacel dropped his net and gawped.
Rory more or less gawped right back, although he was clearly doing his best not to. He offered a vague ‘Hi,’ while his gaze flitted fretfully between Neacel and the cave’s contents: from the glowing light orb to the carved storage alcoves to the diverse array of nets strung over the walls.
Neacel swam closer, apparently spotting Rory’s gills. ‘Amazing,’ he murmured. ‘Your body has changed since meeting Fionn?’
