Drabblerotic 2014 - J is for Jewel

Title: The Choosing
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 500
Prompt: J is for Jewel
Continues from On the Hook


“Sir, you wanted to see me?”

Captain Smythe cleared his throat, “You’ve settled into the crew well.” He smiled, “Seems like you’ve no problem with bait duty anymore,” like there was any doubt how much Jones loved his time on the hook.

With a bashful blush, Jones shook his head, “No sir.”

“Ah, you realize that you have a choice, you’re a free man even if part of the crew. Um,” the Captain cleared his throat, “this was delivered by the Mer this morn.” He flipped back a linen cloth revealing a half opened clam shell, its mother of pearl only rivaled by the egg sized pearl set inside.
“It would seem that one of them, someone important enough to provide this, wants you exclusively.”

Jones stared at the gem. “Are you sure it’s me he’s wanting?”

The lost shingle that had previously adorned Jone’s line the Captain placed beside the shell. “The ocean folk have a way of communicating their desires.”

“There was one mer that seemed to fend off the others after that first time. Eyes blue green like the sea,” the Captain cut him off because everyone had heard Jones’ account more than once.

“Yes, so, what do you want to do, give the pearl back or booty for booty?”

Pulling a face, “I know my duty sir. Just means that there’ll be two lines in the water every time we’re in these parts and I’ll have to go dry when we’re not, unless you think that he won’t find out.”

“Do you want to take that chance? I wouldn’t.” Then nodding Smythe said, “we’ll dangle you over the side, out of the water, unless your prince asks for you.”

The mer prince pulled Jones down and delicately bit, lapping the blood as he slid in and out below, where human eyes wouldn’t see. No one thought that unusual, the mer did that kind of thing occasionally, tasting the crew called it.

Wilton was much more entertaining to watch as two of the ocean folk had him, one front and one back. There were knowing looks and a few wandering hands on board. Wilton would be walking as if he had no sea legs to him for a few days but his mouth might be available to make up for him hogging the mer-cock. He had a talented mouth.

So nobody noticed that Jones was periodically pulled under the water, or that he wasn’t having any problem with water in his lungs, not even Jones. When his line was drawn up sometime later the harness was empty but for a parcel wrapped in seaweed.

“Where is he and what is that?” Captain Smythe demanded.

“He’s gone s--,” the rest was stolen by a gasp as the seaweed was untangled. There lay a small oak chest with a crest upon it. They’d all heard of the treasure ship sinking in a freak gale a week ago. The mer-prince had paid for his Gem, with a ship’s bounty.