The fisherman could feel her eyes watching him as he cooked.

He had fetched two small, fat flounder he had caught and cleaned early that morning, when the sea was cool. He lay them in his large iron pan and put them over the right firepit. Then he reached into one of the many small clay jars stacked on a shelf above the firepit and took out a pinch of herbs. He sprinkled them over the hot pan and instantly their aroma filled the air.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, flipping the fish in the pan. They settled back again the metal with a hiss.

"Fine. Tired. Hungry." The girl eyed the sizzling pan, and now it was clear it was food she craved. "How long did I sleep for?"

"About three days," the fisherman said. He flipped the fish once more. Outside, the rain had intensified, and the sound of it pattering from the eaves filled the cottage.

"I must have been gone a while then."

"Hmm?" The fisherman slipped the two fish, cooked golden brown, onto a plate, and turned toward the girl.

"The longer I am gone, the longer it takes to come back," she explained.

The fisherman did not question her words. Instead he held out the plate, from which a tempting aroma wafted. The girl quickly pulled herself up in the bed, propped her back against the pillow, and balanced the plate on her knees.

The fisherman was about to offer her utensils when the girl picked up the first flounder, gingerly holding the hot fish between her finger tips, and shoved it head first into her pretty mouth.

In three bites it was gone. The fisherman blinked, wondering if his eyes had misseen.

"It is good to see you have an appettite," he said.

"Mhmgmff." The girl had already started on the second fish. Grease ran down her lips. Then she froze, and withdrew the fish from her mouth. "What will you eat?" she asked, looking down at the empty plate on her knees.

"There are many more fish outside," he said absently, shrugging a shoulder at the door. "And in here." He nodded to the strings of above.

The girl needed no more urging. She began to devour the second flounder.

The fisherman was surprised. She did not seem scared or unnerved by her situation. Waking up in an unknown place with an unknown man. She was so carefree and... uninterested. It was almost like it had happened before.

The fisherman had a thousand questions he longed to ask, but he sat and waited patiently while the girl ate.

He did not have to wait long. The second flounder dissapeared as fast as the first, and the girl sat back, licking the spices and oil from her fingers and lips."So, you saved me from the sea, did you? Who are you?"

"I am a fisherman."

"I can see that. Who are you? What name am I to call my brave savior by?"

"Hao Min. Ren Hao Min." The girl quirked one slender eyebrow at him, wanting an explanation of the characters.

The fisherman blushed. "It means 'Vast Strong Net'. My father was also a fisherman."

The girl threw back her head and laughed. Her laughter was at his expense, but he found he didn't mind it at all.

He smiled. "And what should I call you, oh Woman from the Sea?"

Immediately the girl's expression changed. "Call me what you like. It doesn't matter."

The fisherman's heart dropped, along with his eyes. He knew what her words said. She does not mean to stay long.

He looked up, to find the girl watching him, her eyes on his own. Hungry eyes.

The fisherman swallowed. Why is she looking at me like that? What does she want—

The girl held out her empty plate. "You said there were more fish outside?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

The fisherman prepared two more flounder for the girl, and two for himself.

She ate them all with a relish the fisherman found flattering, though suprising. If she really was a daughter of a noble house, she would not find such poor fare so appetizing.

Though then again, she has been asleep for near three days. Anything must taste wonderful to her.

Her eyes followed him again as he cleaned up after the meal. The fisherman started to wonder if it was wariness, not hunger, that made them follow him.

"Whose bed is this?" the girl asked, patting the covers.

"Ah. Mine. It is mine. But I have not been sleeping there. I've been sleeping in the hammock," the fisherman said, gesturing to the cloth slung from the beams.

"I see," the girl said, and the suspicion in her tone and the way her eyes narrowed caused his shoulders to hunch and his hands to scrub at the plate between them more vigorously.

"I-I would have slept outside, but it has been raining and..." in his nervousness the fisherman dropped the plate, and it settled onto the bottom of the wooden wash trough with a clatter. "I didn't- didn't touch you while you slept," he said, knowing it was true, but feeling guilty all the same.

"I can see that," the girl said, lifting her arm to smell it. Her nose wrinkled. "I smell untouched by anything beside the sea."

The fisherman did not think she smelled bad, compared to the smell of fish that permeated his life. When he had bent close to the pillow, to check if she was breathing, she had smelt fresh, of water, and faint jasmine, and something else, rich and sultry.

He cleared his throat and resumed scrubbing the plate. "Where is your home?" he asked, changing the subject. "I can take you there, when you are recovered. If it is far, we can sail."

"I have no home," the girl replied disinterestedly. She grabbed at the clumps of her hair and lifted it to her nose, then pulled it away, disgusted.

"No home? Where were you staying, before you fell into—"

"I must have a bath." The girl rose suddenly from the bed, legs shaky.

"Wait! It is too soon to walk—" The plate clattered into the wash trough once more, as Hao Min dashed forward to catch her elbow.

He tried to guide her back to the bed. "I am fine," the girl said, swatting at his hand. She tottered on her long, unsteady legs, and the fisherman gulped as his eyes traced over them, emerging from the bottom of his shirt. "Where can I bathe near here?"

"I bathe in the steam up the beach from here. But it is too far for you to walk, and it is raining-"

"Perfect." The girl turned and staggered toward the door.

"Wait, it is raining! Wait!" Uselessly, he hovered around her, painfully aware that they had met just moments before, and to touch her would seem to bold. "Wait!"

But the girl paid him no mind. Her fingers fumbled the latch of the door and threw it open.

Outside it was twilight. The kind of dark luminescence that comes when the sun sets behind the clouds. The mist of water droplets in the air holds the light in as it goes, so day seeps away more slowly than when the sky is clear.

It was well and truly pouring now. Rain sluiced off the eaves of the fisherman's house, pouring into the sandy shore, running in many long rivulets down the beach toward the sea. It took the smaller pebbles with it, washing up against the larger rocks like islands in a stream. The rain water wound down the beach till at last it mixed into its salty cousin in the dull pounding waves.

The girl stood, and looked at the scene before her, Alf leaning half hanging from a roof post. Then she stepped out into the downfall.

"Wait-" said the fisherman, reaching out a hand. But it was half hearted, and he knew he would be ignored.

The girl took one shakey step, then another, bare feet sinking into the dark grey sand. His shirt, think linen that it was, was already soaked. The girl's shoulder bones poked through the clinging fabric like clipped wings.

"It is raining," Hao Min repeated uselessly.

The girl stood, face tilted to the sky, letting the rain wash over her. Soaking his shirt, soaking her hair.

The fisherman stood beneath the eaves, watching, feeling the evening wind whip cool rain onto his face.

The girl said something aloud that he could not hear, over the rain and waves. Then she raised her arms to the sky and laughed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter: 1443
Total: 6913