the North Atlantic has something to say;

[beyonder]

I wish only to embrace her for the sake of the freedom for which she so longs! You should know, you are the writer of our story - I have loved no one before her and will love no one in her wake. For never have I been so desired as I am by her.

Once, mun - once I was worshipped. By her, I am worshipped again. Yes, she shall be mine wholly and fully, but not until every wave and every ripple of mine has been hers.

Comments

[drowned_maiden]

Do pardon me for prying, but... Who is "she?"

[beyonder]

Could it perhaps be you, do you wonder? [She laughs.] Oh, do wonder, for I know not her name.

[drowned_maiden]

I suppose it does not really matter. As for me, I am Titanic, she whose life was cut short by man's hubris, men for whom I was their Tower of Babel at sea.

[Though her words are bitter, there is no resentment in her voice, only a note of regret, as though she herself were at fault all along.]

[beyonder]

Titanic. [She pauses. Briefly. A glimmer of recognition at the name. So many ships have sailed and sunk during her lifetime, but certainly - certainly, she remembers.] I remember you, fair one. What a beautiful conquest you were.

[drowned_maiden]

[She bristles at this, but only slightly. To show the true anger she feels would be unladylike, and she was raised to be a paragon of elegance.]

Perhaps it pleased you to bring me to these depths? Over half of my precious human cargo was lost that dreadful night, while your waves could not have been more restful.

[beyonder]

It pleased me as much as it would please anyone to pull a diamond to their chest. I reflect the sun, my dearest - I crave all things of great beauty.

[drowned_maiden]

[A wry laugh.]

Beautiful? How strange of you to call me that. Perhaps I was beautiful, once. But those days have long since passed away.

[beyonder]

Like any drowned one, you have felt my touch. Felt its power, its creative freedom. In my eyes, no one is less beautiful for its effects.