A LITTLE DEDICATION I
1236 Words
The young siren emerged from the water up to her waist, violently splashing the surface with her hands. Geralt considered her breasts beautiful – perfect, even. Only their color spoiled the sight: the n*****s were pale green and the surrounding aureola paler yet.
Skillfully riding the waves that she raised, the young mermaid stretched charmingly, shaking out her wet celadon-green hair, and began to sing melodiously.
“What?” The duke leaned over the railing of the ship. “What did she say?”
“She refused,” said Geralt. “She says she doesn't want to.”
“You've explained that I love her, that I can't imagine living without her, that I want to marry her, be only with her, and no-one else?”
“I told her that.”
“And..?”
“And nothing.”
“Tell her again.”
The witcher touched his lips with his fingers and gave a vibrant trill. Picking up the words and the melody, he began to scrupulously pass on the duke's confessions of love.
Drifting on her back, the young siren interrupted him: “Stop translating, stop working so hard,” she sang. “I understood that. When he professes his love for me, it is always the same stupid simpering. Has he said anything concrete?”
“Not really.”
“That's a shame.”
The siren struck the water and immersed herself with an abrupt movement of her tail.
The sea foamed where it was churned by the mullet-like fin.
“What? What did she say?” asked the duke.
“That it's a shame.”
“What's a shame? What does that mean: 'a shame'?”
“It sounds to me like a refusal.”
“Nobody refuses me anything!” shouted the duke, in defiance of the obvious facts.
“Lord,” muttered the captain of the ship as he approached the two of them, “our nets are ready. All we have to do is throw them to capture...”
“I wouldn't advise that,” Geralt interrupted in a measured tone. “She isn't alone.
Under the water there are many others, and the depths could hide a kraken.”
The captain trembled and grew pale, fixating on the last. “A kra... a kraken?”
“A kraken,” confirmed the witcher. “I don't advise that you mess about with your nets. One scream from her would reduce us to drifting planks and drown us like common kittens. And you, Agloval, must decide: do you want a wife or a fish to keep in a bowl?”
“I love her,” Agloval answered resolutely. “I want to marry her. But for that, she must have legs, and not a scaly tail. Everything is prepared: I traded two pounds of beautiful pearls for a magic elixir that is fully guaranteed to cause her to grow legs. She will suffer only a little for three days, no more. Call her, witcher, tell her one more time.”
“I've already explained it to her twice. She replied that she categorically refuses, but that she knows of a sea witch whose spells can turn your legs into a magnificent tail. And do so painlessly.”
“Has she lost her mind? Me, I'm expected to grow a fish tail? Not on your life! Tell her, Geralt!”
The witcher leaned heavily over the railing. In his shadow, the sea looked as lush and green as aspic. The siren emerged in a fountain of water before he even had time to call her.
She froze for a moment, balanced on her tail, then turned on her back to plunge into a wave in a movement that displayed all her charms. Geralt swallowed.
“Hey, you!” she sang. “Will it take much longer? My skin is cracking under the sun!
White-haired one, ask him if he agrees.”
“He doesn't agree,” replied the witcher, taking up the melody. “Sh'eenaz, you must understand that he can't possibly grow a tail and live under the water. You are free to breathe the air, but he absolutely cannot breathe water!”
“I knew it!” she squealed. “I knew it! The excuses, the stupid and naïve excuses: not the slightest bit of dedication! Who likes to make sacrifices? Me, I sacrifice myself for him: every day, I crawl on rocks that scrape the scales off my back and fray my fin. All for him!
And now he refuses to renounce his two horrible canes? Love is not only taking, it is also devotion and dedication! Tell that to him!”
“Sh'eenaz,” called Geralt. “Don't you understand? He can't live in the water!”
“I do not accept the claims of an imbecile! I... I love him too, and I want to raise fry with him, but how can I do that if he refuses to become a fish like me? Where, then, am I supposed to leave my spawn, huh? In his hat?”
“What does she say?” cried the duke. “Geralt! I didn't bring you here so that you could have a private chat with her...”
“She refuses to change her mind. She is angry.”
“Throw the nets!” bawled Agloval. “I will keep her trapped in a pool for a month and...”
“Then what?” the captain interrupted rudely. “There could be a kraken under the ship!
Have you ever seen a kraken, sir? Jump into the water if you want and catch her with your hands! I'm not getting involved in this. This sea is my livelihood.”
“Your livelihood? I am your livelihood, you scoundrel! Throw the nets or I'll have you drawn and quartered!”
“Now see here! On this ship, I am in command. Not you!”
“Shut up, both of you.” Geralt was hoarse with anger. “She's trying to tell us
something. It is a difficult dialect that requires concentration!”
“I've had enough!” Sh'eenaz shouted in song. “I'm hungry. So, white-haired one, he will decide now! Tell him only that I will no longer suffer the humiliation of waiting for him while he keeps flopping around like a four-legged starfish. Tell him that I have girlfriends who can give me better satisfaction than the trifling sort he offers me on the rocks! As for me, I think he is playing at a game intended for younger fish. I am a siren, normal and sound...”
“Sh'eenaz...”
“Don't interrupt me! I haven't finished yet! I'm healthy, normal, and mature enough to spawn. If he really wants me, then he must have a tail, a fin, and everything else like a normal triton. Otherwise, I won't have anything to do with him!”
Geralt translated quickly. His efforts to avoid vulgarity were not very successful, because the duke blushed and swore horribly.
“Shameless s**t!” he yelled. “Frigid w***e! Go find yourself a herring!”
“What did he say?” Sh'eenaz asked, swimming close.
“He won't grow a tail!”
“Tell him... tell him to go dry out!”
“What did she say?”
“She wants you,” explained the witcher, “to drown yourself.”
- Writer
