It was a night of magick and full moon, muted heat and silent waves. Sabine built her fire among the pale violet sand and drank the ritual liquor, distilled from mountain honey-rose for use only on this one night of the year. It burned sweetly on her lips, warming a molten trail into her core, slow and golden.

Even the moon wore amber and gold tonight, painting an aurous trail of light from shore to horizon. She cupped her palms as though to catch the light, centering herself before taking the first ancient steps, beginning the dance taught to each generation of women by the one before. It was a solemn practice to honor the Goddess Mother, and also a request: for passion, fertility, love.

She danced alone, having no mother or sisters to join her. Stretching face and arms to the sky she lost herself in the offering, her very essence seeming to come alive inside her, in complete harmony with sky, wind, water and sand, until she opened her eyes after one whirling turn and a pale blue gaze splashed over her like a shock of icy water, jerking her out of the trance.

Whatever her watcher may have expected the dancing fire-maiden to do, it was not to bend and hurl a rock at his head and start shouting obscenities. It was utterly incongrous with the nearly celestial movement of a moment before. Her aim was good; he barely dodged.

"Fool!" she raged. "Idiot! You would dare risk the Mother's wrath by watching what is meant for no man's eyes?" Reasoning that the ritual was already profaned, she stormed over the sand to better vent her fury. He reclined on his stomach on the rocks above her, at infuriating ease, propped up on his elbows, making no secret of the fact that he was shamelessly spying on her. His smile widened as she approached, and she remembered too late just how little she wore.

The righteous anger in her breast burned even hotter. "Do you not even know enough to be afraid? Menfolk are inot/i allowed -- Oh!" She broke off suddenly as she finally came close enough to see the feathery fins on the long, scaled tail he flicked in amusement at her shock.

He laughed out loud at her open-mouthed expression. "As you can see, I am no man. Am I then permitted to watch?" he asked smugly. Watching her eyebrows draw down, he quickly added in a more sober tone, "Honestly, fair maid, I meant no disrespect. I did not know you spoke to the gods, I thought it a mere dance. It was most beautiful," he added, pupils dialating within silver-blue irises, drinking her in. She wore only the covering of a tangled lace of fiery hair, and a skirt that must have had some purpose other than concealing, because it certainly wasn't doing that, as a filmy collection of translucent silk strips tossed by the wind, imitating the flickering fire behind her: crimson, carnelian and amber.

Fascinated by the fiery dancer at a distance, Aoram was utterly tranfixed, now that she had come closer. Why had he always thought the land-bound humans so ungraceful, tottering around on those ridiculous legs? Her red-gold hair was so long that it flicked unbearably over his skin from where she stood, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. Her skin was an exotic golden hue, and even the familiar green tint of her pale eyes was gold-touched. He could not look away.

Consternation now replaced her earlier anger. Was this forbidden, or not? Nothing in the traditions had ever mentioned Meremen. She had not been sure, until now, that they even existed, her grandmother's warnings notwithstanding. Those warnings rang loudly now, in her head. Fascination outweighed caution though, and she pushed them away to study him.

The pale sand darkened to a velvety purple as it approached the erosion-smoothed rock shelf, which itself was a deeper red-violet, and he was striking against it, all pale silver and blue. His eyes were at once both silver and blue and yet neither color could be applied quite accurately. The long waving hair was easier, it was mostly pale blue shot through with streaks of silver, as though lightened by the sun. His skin was paler than hers by some margin, but still sun-darkened to some degree. Most breathtaking was, of course, the long tapering fins now more easily viewed, since he was now sitting. Pearlescent scales covered the length, hinting at each color of the rainbow, but predominantly displaying a pattern of silver, blue, aqua, and green. The very tips of the wispy, feathery fins at waist and tail were a deep violet. Like a child, she reached out to touch before thinking, jerking her hand away as though burnt when she realized. Her cheeks iwere/i burning then.

Sensing her discomfiture, and wanting to keep her from fleeing, Aoram spoke again. "Well, maid, perhaps I should reciprocate. I came here tonight to honor my God, as well. Would you care to hear a song which no Meremaid's ear has ever heard?"

It seemed fitting. Perhaps it would placate the Goddess, if She were indeed upset. She nodded, and then after a moment, sat down.

Angels, if they also existed, could not even have had voices to compare to his. The song seemed to draw her soul out through her ears, bearing it up upon silver wings to soar through the sky, the seperate words melding incomprehensibly together until there was no need for them, the sound itself having become a message of worship, supplication, love. It was every bit as fervent as her dance, and she worried for a moment at her trespass, but only peace descended.

She was only aware of the tears when he touched one, in wonder. She shifted closer, sighing. He smelled of salt and sea, and something else, some foreign spice which thrilled and intoxicated.

Large, thin gold hoops hung from her earlobes, feather-light to his questioning finger. She closed her eyes when the touch continued to the line of her jaw, the curve of neck. His breath caressed her skin, as he leaned closer.

"Man of the Sea, what is your intention?" she asked formally, though her voice was shaking. She had not forgotten her grandmother entirely. Remembering the steel-grey eyes seemed to help her find her fleeting resolve. iSabine, girl, the sea will always call to you. It may come to pass that one day a man of the sea will call as well, but be warned; like any man of land some will trap and deceive, and Meremen are trickier by far. Be only wise, for in such matters they are bound to the truth; they will evade, they will mislead, but they cannot lie./i

He met her unflinching gaze with amusement, and the flash of his white teeth in the gloom was enchanting, fey. "Human girl, I did not crawl out of the sea tonight to seduce unsuspecting Terremaids." His mouth met her neck, and she could not pull away. His lips then devoured hers, hungrily, for a brief moment, setting the night on fire. When he withdrew, the wicked smile he wore openly belied his words, and her heart hammered. Was she going to be enchanted, seduced, discarded? Did she have the strength to run?

Almost, she knew fear, and then his face gentled. "Human girl, it is me you have enchanted," he breathed. "I am Aoram, and I would have you to wife."

Steadfastly, she ignored the thrill of heat in her breast. Breathlessly, she asked, "And how many such wives do you already have?"

He laughed. "Crafty girl! You will do well," he said approvingly, nodding. "I have no wives, and if you accede I will have none other." He looked at her sideways, assurance flagging, seeming suddenly young. "Truly, I have much to offer--"

She silenced him with a finger on his lips. Somberly she said, "I hope, Aoram, that your intent is true, for I do not think I can refuse." The words were a jest, and also not. Through magick or fate she was already ensnared, and looked for reassurance that her heart would not be abused.

The plea shone in her eyes, and he answered. "All that I am is yours," he said, and the words had the weight of ritual. "My kingdom, and my life. Consider this a mark of my trust, for all this have I given you, and I do not even yet have your name."

"Goddess Mother," she breathed. "I would go with you now, but for my grandmother's memory I ask a boon instead. My Da's ship sails in a fortnight, and I am his first mate. Meet me here each night at moonrise between now and then, and I will leave with you instead."

His eyes alit, and he took her hands in his. "A courtship? Done and done," he said.

She smiled shyly at his enthusiasm. "My name is Sabine," she offered.