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prismartist · 3 years ago

Text

Haul Away Jay

Fandom: Just Roll With It (Riptide)

Words: 3175

CW: implied/referenced character death

Relationships: Chip & Jay Ferin & Gillion Tidestrider

Summary: Jay is bored. Very, very bored. So, understandably, she tries to find a way to entertain herself.

She wasn't quite expecting the entertainment to come in the form of a song and dance, or that the other two would be roped into it.

None of them are complaining, though.

A/N: @tokencishetchip idk if you remember but you asked to be tagged for this a little while back !! here's the albatrio having fun with a sea shanty :D

Ao3

– – –

If there was anything that Jay Ferin knew as she leaned on the railing of the Albatross one peaceful day, watching the sun slowly set beyond the horizon, it’s that she was unmistakably, undoubtedly, incredibly, and painfully, bored.

Maybe it was the juxtaposition of the current situation to cursed islands, cursed casinos, or crewmates being dumbasses (well, that wasn't really a curse, but it sure felt like one sometimes), but standing on a boat in the middle of an endless calm sea under an endless calm sky wasn’t the most exciting event in the world.

Jay let out a sigh that floated out onto the indifferent blue water. She heard Gillion shout something from atop the crow’s nest, and Chip shouting back in turn as he walked down from the helm and started lighting the lamps. It was nice to see the two working in harmony.

Old man Earl was nowhere to be seen, probably in the kitchen making dinner and more orange juice. Jay was looking forward to that the most right now. She wasn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

Well, she thought as she redirected her attention back to the ocean, if only they could find the adventure they all hoped for.

Her mind drifted in an attempt to entertain herself, going back to her days in the tavern. She had spent hours there working her butt off for loud, gruff soldiers, laying down in bed afterwards and thinking that her aching bones and five hours of sleep weren’t worth it. Over time she had learned to ignore the exhaustion, but compared to the adrenaline-inducing fights and rewarding victories she experienced now, Jay didn’t miss it.

Suddenly, a melody started to creep into her mind, a tune that she didn’t expect to hear in a long while. While tied to the memory of the tavern, the feeling the song settled in her is calm, comforting even. Jay closed her eyes, allowing herself to listen to it.

Apple sang serenely as she sat on the crow’s nest, and her chirps melded into the melody that Jay now recognized.

It was an old sea shanty, one that Jay often heard from the navy soldiers that frequented the tavern. She recalled memories of drunk men singing joyously, unprofessional in their performance, as if they were celebrating being freed from their ruthless job even for a night. Sometimes though, the way they would sing would come out soft and genuine as they sat in relative sobriety after a hard-fought battle, reflecting as the first few hours of the dawn crept up behind them and the orange rays shone on the mournful men. Jay would look on, almost in awe, unable to believe these were the same people who maimed and killed and imprisoned.

Jay hummed the beginning of the tune to the best of her abilities, and did not notice Chip cast a curious glance at her. She faltered as she lost the words, struggling to remember.

How did it go again…?

Oh. Right.

“Oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” Jay sang softly. “I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in your eyes.”

She smiled and started to continue, but was cut off suddenly by the sound of Chip’s voice. Her eyes flew open and she turned in his direction, having half a mind to snap at him, but stopped upon realizing what exactly he was saying.

Or, rather, singing.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my life.” Chip was as surprised as Jay, eyes wide as he continued easily as if by instinct. His voice was surprisingly smooth and not all that bad. “Thy touch, carries, it carries, my soul to the sky.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, processing what had just happened.

Jay tilted her head, and spoke, “How do you-”

“I-it’s a song, I– the Black Rose Pirates used to sing it all the time.” Chip saw a small flash of a memory, of fireflies fluttering around in hanging terrariums, of voices chanting the same song as Chip joined in. He gestured a bit wildly, as if he was trying to swat away the image. “You?”

“I heard it in the tavern a lot.” Jay chuckled, a little in disbelief. “I guess it’s more popular than I thought.”

Chip vaguely remembered being lifted into the air by a laughing Arlind, teasing him for messing up a line, the golden glow overhead. “I guess so-”

“And my love! I swear in the sun and the rain!” The booming voice of Gillion Tidestrider rang down, causing Chip and Jay to look up and see the Triton slide down the pole, landing with a flourish. He straightened and completed the verse in a perfect baritone. “That someday, our hands will intertwine once again.”

Gillion grinned at the other two’s astonished faces. “That's an oversea song, is it not? My sister taught it to me. I much enjoy it as well.”

Chip turned to Jay. “So definitely more popular than you thought,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, feeling a grin grow on her face. “A little different in some places, but yeah.”

She found herself tapping her fingers against the boat to the beat of the shanty and humming the post-verse interlude. Gill and Chip noticed as well, and their eyes trained on her, silently assigning her the role of the shantyman.

Jay tensed up upon noticing. She’s not used to performing, especially in front of an audience (could you call two people an audience?). It’s far from one of her strong suits.

But after a moment of contemplation, she eventually decided that, fuck it, it’s time to sing.

They started this ballad, they might as well finish it.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee.” Her voice cracked a bit on the high note, which Chip snickered at, but Jay merely shot him a dirty look and continued. “If you are troubled, so troubled, you must only call on me.”

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea,” Chip joined in, his smirk slowly morphing into a genuine smile.

“For you I know my journey will succeed,” he finished, noticing Gillion’s voice join in. Chip glanced at him for a second before letting out a soft chuckle.

Jay started stomping on the boat to get the beat going. To her delight, Chip clapped rhythmically and Gillion followed both their suits. Energized, Jay hummed louder.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools,” all three sang together, “Soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

With a laugh, Jay skipped closer to the center of the ship. She spun and gestured, mimicking the dances she had observed at Loffinlot, imagining a band accompanying her as she sang as loud as she could.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la.

Gillion was quick to join her, imitating her dance. His heavy boots threatened to break the wood they danced on, but Jay only cared for the lovely bass beat and snare they happened to offer. She grinned at him approvingly, and Gill grinned back.

Off to the side, Chip hung back, providing the main melody.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry.” Jay reached out a hand to Gillion, who took it. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.” She raised it and lead him in a spin. “And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to reunite!”

Gillion grabbed Jay by the waist, catching her off-guard, but as he lifted her into the air, she loosened up and cheered, feeling the song come to an end.

When she landed, Jay made a show of dusting herself off before bowing to Gillion. Gill, ever the gentleman, bowed back, and Jay giggled.

She looked over to Chip, leaning against the railing and watching with a rather deflated smile. Jay raised an eyebrow. That didn’t look right.

Absent-mindedly tapping his toes, no longer minding the beat, Chip stewed deep in his thoughts. Seeing his friends dance their hearts out was a nice scenario, don’t get him wrong, but despite the undeniable want to join in the festivities, there was a hesitance that Chip couldn’t quite get over. Maybe it’s the weird ache when he remembered voices that he’d never hear again. Maybe it’s because he didn’t want to interrupt the others’ joy. Who knew. Chip sure didn’t.

And Chip definitely didn’t know why the sight of Jay marching towards him made him panic.

“Hey,” Jay said, and Chip immediately heard the over-friendliness in her voice. “What’re you doing, moping in the corner? You said you and the Black Rose Pirates sang this all the time, right?” She leaned forward and locked eyes with Chip, who tensed up. “So, show us what you got.”

She daintily held out a hand, and with it, a challenge. “Dance with us.”

Chip’s eyes grew impossibly wide as his face flushed. “Oh, nah, nahh, that’s okay, I’m really not a dancer,” he stammered. “And you guys are already done with the song, so I really don’t-”

“Gill.” Jay smirked. “Take the beat.”

“Wha-”

“On it!” Gillion grinned with sharp teeth and began to stomp and clap again. He hummed deeply, the tune once again emanating through the ship.

“Jay,” Chip begged, taking a step back. “I don-”

“Nope, round two, coward!”

“Ja-AAAAY!”

Chip yelped as Jay grabbed his arm and dragged him to the newly appointed dance floor, guiding his kicking and screaming form into one of dance. She took one of Chip’s hands and held it up, putting her other hand on his shoulder. “Your free hand on my waist,” she reminded him, ignoring his confused sputtering. “And one, two, three, go.”

She lead the dance in a sort of wild, messy foxtrot, stretching their clasped hands in the direction they move in, side skipping energetically. Chip stumbled at first, caught off-guard, but he quickly adjusted to her same pace, glancing at the ground to make sure he was keeping up. Seeing his face relax and the corners of his mouth quirk up, Jay smiled at him encouragingly.

“Sing, shantyman, it’s your turn,” she said.

Chip’s expression turned into horror once again, gulping as he scrambled to remember the words in time for the melody.

“O-oh maiden, oh maiden, the love to I,” sang Chip.

“I adore the shimmer, the shimmer, the shine in thy eyes,” he and Jay sang together.

“It enamours, enamours, thy light to my li-IIFE, JAY!” Chip screamed as Jay gave him a spin, laughing at his surprised shriek. “Jay, don’t just spin me without warning!”

“You’re being sloppy, shantyman,” Jay teased. “Keep up with the song.”

Chip glared, but continued nonetheless, “And my love, I swear in the sun and the rain.”

Jay gave him another spin, but this time, Chip didn't miss a beat. He gave Jay a smug, triumphant look. Jay raised an eyebrow in turn, admittedly impressed.

“That someday, our hands will intertwine once again!”

“Alright, nice,” Jay complimented, grinning widely.

Chip caught a mischievous glint in her eye, and his face consequently fell.

“One more spin, pretty boy!”

Before he could protest, Jay suddenly spun Chip away with a greater force than before, and the world around him became a blur, the air swirling with the sound of Jay’s devilish voice.

“Gillion,” he heard her yell, “catch!”

And Chip is spun into the arms of Gillion, who beamed at Chip’s very red face.

“Come, Chip.” Gill took both of Chip’s hands. Chip, still trying to recover from the jarring switch of partners, only blinked down at their now clasped fingers. “It is our turn.”

“Oh my god.” Chip laughed nervously.

Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp.

“Oh damsel, oh damsel, my heart belongs to thee,” Jay belted as Chip and Gillion figured out their dance. “If you’re troubled, oh so troubled, you must only call on me.”

The other two started to push and pull in tandem, reminiscent of a cha-cha with a bit more energy and spins thrown in every once in a while. They surprisingly guided each other with more harmony and grace than Jay expected.

“And though it rages, it rages, the condescending sea.” Gillion leapt and circled with Chip, almost lifting the latter off the ground. “Just for thou I know that my journey shall succeed!”

“Gill, calm down!” Chip chuckled, partly in amusement and partly in fear, as he started to lose his footing.

Jay looked on, not ignorant to the warm fuzzy feeling in her chest, the beat pulsing along with the adrenaline in her veins.

“And my love, I swear in the waves and whirlpools, soon we will meet and once again become whole.”

Soon she joined them, whooping as she jogged, and they welcomed her with wide smiles, one pair of hands separating to reach out. Jay took the offer to form an interconnected circle, spinning and bobbing as they shared the melody. They sang, as loud as they could, filling the air with a joyful energy.

“Oh lover, oh lover, don’t you dare cry,” Chip started.

The others joined in. “But laugh and laugh under the pristine blue sky.”

And laugh they did, the pure euphoria of indulging in fond memories emitting from them. They stumbled and laughed through mistakes, put their all into the performance, harmonising wonderfully.

Jay caught Pretzel doing somersaults in her globe and Apple circling the crew, chirping the tune with them. She’s reminded of a joking conversation about starting a band. Perhaps they had a chance after all, she thought amusedly. Gillion and the Tidestriders. Chip and the Bastards. Jay and the Dumbass Bluebirds. Whatever you wanted to call it.

Now, though, they were simply three friends, holding hands and dancing, rattling the wood of the ship without a care, singing a sea shanty that they all happened to know.

The stars slowly flooded the darkening sky and twinkled at them like they were dancing along.

To one, the fresh air, the touch of familiar calloused hands that had fought alongside her, and the spray of the ocean was a welcoming contrast to past memories of stuffy spaces and dispassionate work. To another, though the memory was a bit painful, it still brought him the same comforting feeling from years ago, sharing laughter and celebration in a tight kinship that was expected in that of crewmates, deepening the bond with experiences that were not just in battle, but in recreation. And to another still, it was a reminder of a time when he was desperate to learn the oversea culture, and that he still remained ever so curious now as he learned its differences and similarities to his world, forming relationships with its inhabitants, people who were perhaps not as cruel as the elders had suggested.

Those who share such joyous experiences with others must not be that selfish, after all.

“And never, oh never, would I ever lie. I wish nothing more than for us to re-u-nite!”

Jay grinned up at the sky as they hummed the outro melody, a gust of wind sweeping down on them and carrying their voices away, out onto the shimmering waters.

La, la la la, la la la, la la la…

A tug from Jay led the trio up in one final leap, whooping and cheering with the others as they followed. And once their feet landed simultaneously with a bang, the song ended.

As the rush receded from her mind, the pumping blood in her ears quieting down, Jay took in the sound of the waves crashing up against the ship and her heaving breaths. She looked up at the now star-filled sky, wondering when it got so dark. She allowed her hand to slip from her friends’ grasps, moving to lean on bended knee. Jay heard the other two breathing quite heavily as well, and even a plop as Chip seemed to collapse out of the corner of her eye. She followed suit, sprawling onto the wood and closing her eyes, catching her breath. Jay wasn’t extremely tired, but she needed to recuperate.

“Oh god, you kids just had to make a racket up here, didn’t ya?”

Jay breathed out a chuckle upon hearing the raspy voice. “Hi Earl.”

“We were partying, Old man Earl!” Gillion said preppily, unsurprisingly not as out of breath as the others.

“Earl, you got…” A huff from Chip. “You got orange juice? Perhaps? Please?”

“Hmph, you’re fuckin lucky I do.”

Tired cheers chimed from the pirates.

“But you have to go down to get it with dinner. Chop chop.”

“Ohh, come onnnnn,” Chip whined, joining in with the groans of Jay.

“I’ve seen you work, you’re not that tired,” Earl scoffed. “Maybe you shouldn’t have wasted all your energy on destroying the ship! And your vocal chords.”

“Hey, I don’t think we sounded that bad,” Jay said.

“Whatever, just come down and have dinner, I’m definitely not hefting everything up here.” Earl barked out a laugh and proceeded to go back down, ignoring the cries of Jay and Chip.

Soon Gillion’s face popped into Jay’s view. “Are you alright, Jay?” He glanced over. “Chip?”

“I’m coming around,” Jay assured. She stretched her arms up, making grabby hands. “Pull me up?”

Gillion complied, grabbing her arms and lifting her, though at a faster-than-preferred pace. Jay let out a yelp as she got back on her feet before stretching with a groan.

“Thanks, Gill.”

“Hey Giiiilll? Big man? Can I go next?”

Jay looked to Chip, who also had outstretched arms. Gillion walked to him and helped him up as well.

“Thanks, buddy.” Chip patted Gill on the back.

“No problem. Honestly, I did not think you would tire out so easily.”

“Well we need to gain back our energy, then,” Jay said, starting to follow Old man Earl.

“Hey, uh, Jay, um.” Chip caught her attention, and she turned back to see him with a raised hand. He moved it to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was… that was fun.”

“I agree,” Gillion said with a nod. “I was reminded of some… rather fond memories, actually. And it was a good exercise. We should do it more.”

“Yeah, yeah actually, same. I agree.” Chip looked up at Jay, his face rather tentative. “So, thanks for that, I guess.”

Jay smiled. “You’re welcome, dweeb,” she jabbed. “You’re being more affectionate than usual, but I appreciate it.”

“Hey, don’t call me a dweeb!” Chip’s expression morphed into one of offense. “I just thanked you, that’s so insensitive of you. That’s actually insensitive.”

“I let you fulfill your showman dreams, you’re the one being insensitive right now.”

“Showman- hey, I actually like the sound of that.”

“Yeah you would, you drama queen.”

“You’re calling me dramatic? Have you seen Gill?”

The sound of bickering paired with Gillion’s oblivious chimes trailed below the deck, leaving a fond memory to the glittering dark waters and the twinkling stars still dancing along.

#jrwi #just roll with it #just roll with it fanfiction #jrwi podcast #just roll with it podcast #jrwi riptide #prismatic writing

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

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For mermay I would love to see some Danbrey for 24 (lighthouse)!

Here you go! I went with SFW for this one

“You excited honeysuckle?” Her father sets her sleeping bag out on the floor.

“Yes” Dani manges her bravest smile. She’s never slept anywhere but their little house on the cliffs, and the lighthouse, with its echoing stairs and lack of true darkness, is the opposite of that.

“It’ll be fun. Like a camp out. I can even make s’mores over the stove.”

“Okay.” She sets her backpack on the floor, then follows him to the kitchen. At nine, she can already tell when her parents are doing their best, can spot the way her father carries himself when he’s tired but trying not to show it.

He makes them dinner, canned chili with goldfish crackers, and gives her a little tour. When it’s time for bed, he tucks her in, handing her the Totoro plush she sleeps with.

“When is mom coming back?”

Her father sighs, “Two weeks, assuming your grandma gets better at the speed they’re expecting. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll recover even faster than that.”

Dani nods. Her teacher expressed surprise that Dani was staying here and not taking the trip with her mom. The given reason was the gated community didn’t allow children to stay that long. But Dani knows the truth; her grandparents don’t like her dad. And because Dani is the result of her mom loving and staying with her dad, they don’t like her, either.

He kisses her forehead, makes her promise for the bajillionth time that she won’t go in the water, and tells her goodnight.

-----------------------------------------

She’s looking for seashells when it happens. Living by the sea means she knows not to turn her back on it. Too bad the wave hits her from the side, carried up and over the nearby rock and knocking her into the surf. She scrambles up, spluttering, touches her neck, and feels like she’s going to throw up. Her bracelet, the one mom gave her for luck, is gone.

“Oh no, oh no, where are you, oh no”

“Um, are you looking for this?” A girl watches her from the surf, bracelet dangling from her hand.

“Ohmygosh” She snatches the jewelry away, holding it to her chest, “thank you. It’s from my mom and, uh, and I try to be careful but it’s hard sometimes.”

“I get that.” The girl holds up a necklace, “this is from my mom. It’s like one she wears; she says I can have the real one when I’m older. Can I come on the beach?”

Dani nods, then gasps as the girl joins her. She’s seen mermaids in books or that pirate movie her mom watches sometimes. But they’re always grown ups with long hair, pale skin, and green tails. This mermaid is the same age as Dani, her dark skin dotted with freckles and her black held in place with pieces of coral. Her tail is shimmering red and black, the prettiest thing Dani’s ever seen.

“You’re a mermaid.” Dani says, because she can’t think of what else to say.

“Yeah. And you’re a human. Why are you here? It’s usually just that guy.”

“That’s my dad. I’m staying with him.”

“Do you wanna hang out?”

“Yes! Wait, how’s that going to work? I’m not allowed to swim around the lighthouse.”

“I’m allowed to be on the beach, so we’re good.”

“Okay” Dani grins, excited, before her dad’s voice carries down the beach, calling her to come in, “shoot, I have to go.”

“Okay, byyyyyeee!” The mermaid waves as Dani hurries up the sand, and is gone when she turns around for a final look.

------------------------------------------

“Got any tens?”

“Go fish.”

Aubrey draws another card, “I still think it’s weird that you don’t really fish during this game.”

“You’re just grumpy you’re losing.” Dani teases. Aubrey sticks her tongue out. Dani responds in kind.

“When your dad finally lets you swim, we’re gonna play it my way and I’ll kick your tail. Legs?”

“Butt.”

Aubrey snickers, wiggles closer on the warm sand. They’ve found a patch of beach that isn’t immediately visible from land or sea, meaning Aubrey isn’t in danger of being seen and Dani isn’t breaking her promise to her dad to stay out of the water.

“If you come to the beach near my house, I can swim there. But I’m still not allowed to swim alone. I could drown.”

The mermaid purses her lips, “I wouldn’t let you drown.

“I don’t think my mom would believe me if I said I had a mermaid helping me.”

“Man, why can’t humans just have tails? Or, like, fins.”

“I think then we’d just be mermaids. Don’t worry; I’ll get to swim on my own when I’m older and we can play in the water then.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“FINALLY!” Aubrey raises her arms triumphantly as Dani wades into the surf. It took four years and passing a survival swimming course for her parents to be okay with her swimming alone. The smile on Aubrey’s face makes the weeks pretending to swim in a riptide worth it.

“Do you wanna race? Ooh, or I could show you the ray nest, or we could go look for otters-”

“Let’s start with a race. I’ve been waiting years to kick your tail.”

The mermaid’s smile takes on a competitive edge, “last one to that rock is a rotten urchin!”

With that, she splashes Dani with her tail and zooms through the water. Dani dives forward after her, but even with her newfound swimming skills she makes it to the rock a good ten seconds after her friend.

“Best two out of three?” She says the moment she comes up for air.

“You’re on.”

Best two out of three becomes best out of ten, and on number ten Dani plays dirty, throwing her arms around Aubrey’s waist when she manages to catch her. Her friend shrieks with laughter, spinning and chasing Dani towards shore. The human slips and Aubrey tackles her, sand clinging to both of them as they roll onto their sides, cackling into the salt air.

They stay on the sand until it gets dark, counting stars and holding hands until Dani has to go home.

-------------------------------------------------

Dani’s trying not to panic; it’s not the first time Aubrey’s missed meeting her. Sometimes the mermaid gets called away for lessons or has last minute things to take care of, and they haven’t figured out a way to get messages between underwater and above it (they tried a supposedly waterproof cellphone but it only lasted an hour). But it’s been three days without a single sign of her friend.

As she’s contemplating getting the boat her dad uses for fishing on his days off and going further out to look for her, Aubrey surfaces. Even before they reach each other, it’s obvious Aubrey’s been crying.

Dani kneels in the soaked sand, opening her arms, and Aubrey burrows into them, salt water of two kinds dripping onto Dani’s jacket.

“Aubrey?”

Her friend hides her face against her neck, “Mom’s gone. There, there was an accident and she, she didn’t-” it cuts off in a sob.

Dani holds her tighter, strokes her hair, murmurs, “I’m so sorry” as Aubrey shakes in her arms. The wind whips around them, stinging her cheeks, chilling her fingers. She doesn’t care. Aubrey needs her.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Ta-dah!” Aubrey produces a massive clam with a flourish, narrowly avoiding sending water onto the slices of cake Dani smuggled down to the beach.

“Aw, thanks Aubrey, you didn’t have to--holy crap!” She gawps as Aubrey opens the clam, revealing a pearl necklace.

“Like it? It took me, like, a year to get them all. Had to fight a few otters for some of the oysters.”

“Uh-”

“Kidding!” Aubrey flops her head into Dani’s lap, “I’d never bug the otters; Dr. Harris Bonkers would never forgive me for bothering his friends.”

Dani clasps the necklace in place, rests a hand on Aubrey’s tail. She traces figure eights on it, smiling when her friend sighs and nuzzles her stomach.

“You’re the best, Aubrey.”

“Thanks. I, um, I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

Her heart turns to an iceberg, “You’re leaving?”

“What? No!” Aubrey sits up, bringing them face to face, “you’re eighteen now. That’s when humans leave home.”

Dani giggles, “Not automatically. I haven’t made up my mind if I want to leave Kepler or not. I might just stay in town; I like it here, and Mama offered me a job manning the community gardens.”

Aubrey’s tail flutters, “Um, I have another point in the stay category.”

“Yeah? Oh” Dani sighs as Aubrey cups her cheek and guides her into a kiss. When Dani deepens it, Aubrey trills, shifting so she’s in Dani’s lap and draping her arms over her shoulders.

“Well?” Aubrey whispers, brushing their noses together.

“Definitely a convincing point, cutie pie.”

Aubrey trills again, knocking her backwards and kissing her senseless in the sand.

-----------------------------------------------

Much of Kepler is surprised when, upon his retirement, the lighthouse keeper announces his daughter will be taking his place. After all, why would a charming young woman want such a job?

The charming young woman isn't particularly interested in their speculation. If she took the job in order to be closer to her wife well, that's her business, now isn't it?

#danbrey #Aubrey little/Dani #taz amnesty #mermay #mermay fills

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whorizcn · 5 years ago

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hello everyone !! because i made a list of a few of my favorite writeblrs, i decided to pick out some of my favorite wips and share them with you all!! so without further adieu, here are some of my favorite wips at the moment !! (aka me poorly describing my current fav wips in hopes you’ll check them out and love them all as much as i do)

@penkai | IMMINENT

a horror with poc and lgbt+ leads!!

i love all of the characters so much?? they’re all FANTASTIC!

a bunch of teens are celebrating their graduation at a party/sleepover when, GASP! their house is broken into by a serial killer and they all have to try not to die. ICONIC!

it gives me such halloween && scream vibes and i am 100% here for it

if you like horror and thrillers i’d HIGHLY recommend imminent, also kai is so nice and i love them.

Late into the night, when everyone's settling down to go to bed, things seem like they're going just fine

"Hey, wait...who left the door open?"

@latrantem | THOSE WHO TEMPT FATE

a dark academia, thriller AND paranormal wip (we love that)

i love hugo gianfranco with my entire heart

dylan’s writing is OUTSTANDING

want a book that features manipulation, toxic masculinity, deceit, cults, and immortality? it’s all right here baby

a fantastic wip that i think everyone should check out!!

also, dylan is so sweet?? so please go and support them!

Five students. Five murders — Engelmann University hides a sinister secret, one uncovered by the wrong group of students; students with an insatiable thirst for power, notoriety, and wealth.

@jugularss | FREAK

a psychological thriller wip by the lovely addie

this wip is so interesting! it gives off a wonderfully creepy vibe and i’m so excited to learn more about it!

freak explores mental health and sociopathy, which i’m 100% here for! the synopsis for freak is so interesting and the protagonist has a lot of mystery surrounding her! i highly recommend going and checking out freak cause i love it with all of my heart.

Young, dependant, fragile.

That’s what they see her to be, the accomplished model student, She feels thats what they NEED her to be. Their wish is her command, but what they don’t know wouldn’t scar them.

@holotones | DEADSHOT

a sci-fi, western, post-apocalyptic wip that is so fucking good it makes me wanna scream

i love myrah so much?? also, sal and lukas are the cutest and i would die for them

haeji’s worldbuilding is EXCELLENT and everything about deadshot is *chef kiss* amazing

30% of humans are sent out to live on a planet called aerope and things are going great. that is until two large pulses tear through aerope, destroying everything the humans built, and taking down communication with earth. our protagonist is a boy who wakes up with zero recollection of his name, his age and has no idea what’s going on or where he is. a group of raiders find him, name him, approximate his age and together they work together to figure out what is going on.

it’s so fucking GOOD! i described it so poorly but i highly recommend everyone go and check it out! the worldbuilding and characters are out of this world and i love it with my entire heart

He’ll survive long enough to realize that there’s something gargantuan living in the bowels of aerope, and maybe - just maybe, he’ll survive long enough to get all these walking corpses off of this godforsaken planet.

@emdrabbles | RIPTIDE

a historical pirate and fantasy wip

features a fantastic cast of poc and lgbt+ characters, all of which are all so well written and fleshed out that it blows me away. also, lyra could kick me in the teeth and i’d thank her.

lyra de la cruz is a pirate captain who, seven years ago, proposed to her ex, maria with a promise to love and hold her forever. so it’s a mystery why one day lyra left maria with nothing so she could go live a life of piracy. one day, lyra’s navigator goes missing and lyra finds a pretty note signed xoxo maria. lyra is forced to face the past and a simple rescue mission turns into a big ol’ ordeal as lyra and her crew begin to grow ansty for the truth

it’s so good? like oh my god? the talent, the FLAVOR, the creativity. i could never

riptide is a fantastic wip that everyone should check out and shower with love and support!!

Lyra De La Cruz has only ever loved one person. And she’s going to be the death of her.

@apollchiles | GOD’S BREATH

one of my faves! god’s breath is a fantasy wip that has some of the best worldbuilding i’ve ever seen?? like holy shit

the worldbuilding in god’s breath is OUTSTANDING! the mythology, the locations, the characters, the history behind the houses. all of it is amazing and everyone should go check it out

also the edits alice makes for this wip are so good?? like i swear it’s illegal for someone to be that talented

if you’re into fantasy and you’re looking for a high-quality fantasy wip, i highly recommend you check god’s breath out! it’s one of my all-time favorite wips!

Get rid of people who know too much. And never trust anyone more than yourself. It’s time to stop being innocent. It’s time to start your reign.

@vandorens | TRAHISION

a dark academia thriller wip (cause i’m a whore for a good dark academia)

azka is so talented y’all it’s crazy

has some of the best characters i’ve ever seen and her character names are all so good like?? teach me your ways, please

one drunken night a bunch of students all decide to pursue immortality (as you do) until one day, GASP! a student turns up DEAD! now our dear protag has to question how well he actually knows those around him

i love this wip with my entire heart and i HIGHLY recommend it to everyone!

Because after all, cheating death does come at a cost.

also, guys lmk if the links are working and whether or not you were notified, cause i’m worried the linkes got messed up somehow. love u all !!

#writeblr positivity week #writeblr #you guys are all so incredibly talented it BLOWS MY MIND!!#keep being awesome and putting out that sweet sweet wip content for all of us writing gremlins #also i apologize to how poorly i described these wips doaudoauwd they're all fantastic i swear #i might make a pt 2 to this cause there are so many more awesome wips out there but i didn't want this post to be insanely long iduaidjawd #so keep your eyes peeled for pt 2. if i ever decide to make one #shout out to tumblr for ruining the quality of my graphic!! thats so epic of you!

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sleepypandarmy · 5 years ago

Note

3 and 28

Hiiiii:)

I might have too much energy rn lmao

Anyways

3. A song outside of your usual genre

So I listen to predominantly boy groups (think BTS, exo, nct, wayv, ateez, SKZ, etc) I think at this point, I barely even listen to normal English pop music anymore. All that aside though, Demons by Imagine Dragons is a very very good song that reminds me of my scary dark! grade 8 phase when I was just adjusting to highschool and only wore black and red. You could say it has a sentimental value to me.

Another good one that's very different from my normal tastes is Riptide by Vance Joy. I just remember singing it with my friends all the time, so listening to it makes me smile.

28. A song you've always skipped but ended up loving once you listened to it

Oh god okay. There's a lot, so please don't fight me if I mention your fave song or something lmao.

-So What, Outro: Wings, Awake, Seesaw, answer: love myself, and love maze by BTS (all of these are now some of my fave songs from them)

- sweet lies and 24/7 by exo

- treasure and pirate King by ateez

- I am you by stray kids

-replay(11:27 pm)by NCT 127 ( god I love this song so much I was such an idiot) and also 100 by NCT 127

-new rules by TXT

I can think of any more currently but I think there is quite a few that I'm missing lol

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courtorderedcake · 6 years ago

Text

Riptide 5/13 CSBB

An Enchanted Forest AU where the dark one was never released into the world in a vessel, thus causing a massive shift in timelines. The ogre wars have ravaged kingdoms, untold destruction spanning continents, rulers displaced. Even as the wars sputter to ash, the safest place to be is at sea, and that’s not very safe at all - as Emma and Killian find out, fates intertwined against all odds.

Rated: E/X - heavy content : warnings of assault, rape, noncon, just everything, I feel like the rating says enough. It’s something.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS TRIGGERING CONTENT. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Read on Ao3 HERE

Chapter V : Waves

The roar of ocean waves has faded. I no longer hear anything but the anthem of eternity, which harmonizes with the spirit.

-Khalil Gibran

The past year had been hot, and the push into the very end of summer was no different. It had made for miserable sleeping conditions unless out on deck, and the crew of The Jolly was

a sweaty mess as they sailed north, seeking cooler temperatures.

After a recent encounter with The Gilded Wing, the captain wanted more than a cool breeze. The tavern he stalked towards hopefully held the person currently stoking his rage.

“Swan!” he barked, stomping towards her, body stiff with the anger coursing through him.

She turned her head and his breath caught. She smiled at him, devastatingly lovely eyes twinkling with mischief as she sat on some poor drunk sutler’s lap. The man had no idea what to do beyond stare drunkenly up at her as she used him as a cushion. His rage grew in intensity, and a heat grew in his stomach that he didn’t recognize. She'd left him in Agrabah without a word, only to appear from the mist and steal a haul he had been tracking for a week, only to disappear right back into it. He'd lost more silver and minted bouillon than he wanted to think about.

"My dear Captain Hook," her voice was like honey, low, husky, and sugary sweet. "How lovely of you to come court me. I must say, my suitors are rare these days, and never so persistent." A roar of laughter rose. No one courted Swan. No one courted pirates.

"Swan, you bloody fucking daughter of Chaos herself, you know why the hell I'm here."

She stood, still smiling, and liquidly moved towards him, her crew parting around her.

"You missed me?” Softly pressing her finger to his nose, she imitated his voice. “I’m flattered, my darling.” Her grin would be infectious if he didn't very much want to kill her in that moment. "Another round for everyone, and a rum for me and this gentleman!" she yelled, as cheers went up around them.

"You bloody blonde strumpet," he hissed, grabbing her wrist and pulling her tight against him. She looked at him demurely through long lashes. He was tired of her games and beyond livid with her teasing; all on top of something else he couldn’t place that had him seeing red, which accounted for the madness of what he did next.

He kissed her, hard and relentless, her body stiffening in the shock of a public display of their secret romps. He heard her crew’s reactions before her own. He grinned maliciously at her, at her widened and horrified eyes, licking his lips as Charming threw him back roughly. He felt Snow place a dagger at his side and watched Emma’s face harden like it was made of marble. She stomped forward and punched him hard in the jaw, and he grinned at her again.

“You punch like a princess.” He felt Charming stiffen and Snow pushed harder with her blade. “A fairy princess to be exact.” Looking up at her, he could see her nostrils flaring, her fists balled.

“Leave him.” He could feel Snow withdraw her blade, and heard her disgusted sigh.

”Captain, do you think that’s -” Snow questioned lowly, and David’s grip tightened on his blade.

“I said leave him.” She glared stonily, made to walk out, drinking her rum in a smooth motion, and left a few coins on the counter. Turning back, she cast a look of hatred his way. “If he chooses to follow, I’ll carve out his kidney and feed it to him. I don’t fear such a pretentious, cowardly, rat of a man.”

He made to follow her, but Charming spoke lowly in his ear. “I’ll kill you without a second thought if you touch her again.” Hook pushed the man away and flashed another cheeky grin.

“I’m honored you spared me the first thought. I never knew you cared.”

Charming looked at Hook, studying him coldly, as Snow stepped beside him. “She deserves better than you. You'll never change,” Charming hissed. With the rest of Emma’s crew, they watched Hook leave.

Charming at least agreed with him. Emma deserved far better.

He made his way to his ship, smirking when he saw the latch to his quarters was closed but slightly off. She’d picked it. That vixen. It had been months since Agrabah, and he had stopped fucking doxies and whores in port towns months before that, savoring every time Swan and his animosity bloomed into carnal activities. Like clockwork, they either naturally found each other or purposely sought the other out. Although, among the mumblings he heard from his crew, there was a nugget of truth: Hook pursued Swan. He climbed below, anxious to see her.

She wasn’t there.

A small candle was lit, and he noticed with amusement that next to it lay a swan shaped piece of colored paper, folded as to easily recognize the animal. He touched it gently and looked around. She must have left recently, only stopping here before leaving. He could still smell her in the air. Vanilla, jasmine, rose, freesia, and the sea.

He unfolded the note, eyebrow raised. Only two words scrawled in messy ink.

The Beach.

He quickly made his way down a path to the sea. The beach was bathed in moonlight; the moon herself wading in the water like he could throw a stone to hit it. It was still warm and balmy here, and the air felt heavy with humidity. She sat in a small alcove of a limestone cavern, where a deep inner river carved its way to the ocean from a rushing cistern. Waves lapped quietly as she threw stones into the deep black hole of the pit that water gurgled endlessly into.

Superstitious locals said that an old pirate king had thrown his treasure down into its depths, never to be found or sought but by fools. Some said the treasure was a woman, and the place echoed with her ghostly moans. He and Swan didn’t deal in non-seafaring superstition, and Swan had relayed with confidence on more than one occasion the ‘ghostly moans’ may have been echoes of their own activities.

“Hook.” Emma stood and for a moment, he was taken off kilter. She didn’t have the heat that she had met him with in the tavern any longer. Instead, almost nervously, she was wringing her hands. “Listen, this is… We shouldn’t, you know. This is the...the last time; I’m -”

Hook crushed his lips against Emma’s, chuckling quietly into it when her eyes widened and then closed.

“I've been thinking of you since Agrabah,” he whispered as he pressed kisses against her neck. “I looked for you, and you disappeared, then you pop out of the blue. Then you take another of my hauls, punch me, and lead me here. I was thinking -”

In an almost frenzied response, she pulled him tight against herself and took his breath away. Her mouth was hot against his, all tongue and teeth, longing poured into it like she’d been waiting for him as well.

Immediately, her hands were underneath his shirt, nails scratching down his chest, fingers working his belt and diving to pull out his cock. While he worked her out of the cotton shift she had stuffed into those damnable billowy pants she wore, everything slid off in a blur. Her hand stroked him, her teeth pulled on his lower lip; everything tugging him towards her heat as he slipped fingers into her wetness.

All she wanted was him, just this feeling for forever and a day, his fingers stroking every place he could touch and their mouths moving with fury. When he pulled away to gasp her name and attack her neck, she writhed on his fingers. He was moving too fast, her body betraying her to the way he had mapped her, knowing how to elicit the breathiest moan of pure ecstasy. He brought her up again and again, asking for another each time with quick flicks of his fingers until she felt him slide against her, coating himself. Her breath hitched and he sunk deep, pushing them back against stone.

The cry they both gave at their first movement together, hers a low grind up as he came down into a harsh thrust, was like being caught in a wave that knocks the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She didn’t realize she whimpered curses against his neck until she heard the answering groan of her name.

“Swan!” he grunted, starting a frenetic pace, no time or place for languid strokes in this with fire burning underneath their skin like lit powder. “Bloody hell, Emma. Fuck!”

He plowed into her again and again, groaning, pupils blown wide and his body digging her into the rock wall. The sea crashed along with him, water misting sweaty skin, harsh pants in his ears, both of them alive and here together. When she keened out a cry, it echoed both around him and through him, like a hot finger down his spine.

"You feel so good. I love fucking you, filling you," he hissed in her ear, slamming into her. "I'd fuck you like this everyday, pour champagne over you and lick it off every inch of you. Gods above, I’d find you the rarest jewels to wear, I'd eat cream and strawberries off each nipple and give you anything you wanted. You’ve completely bewitched me." He sucked hard on her neck for emphasis. "God, my Swan, Emma; I'd make you scream my name every night, I'd never leave your tight cunt." He shifted his hips so she saw stars, screaming and holding him as tightly as she could, nails digging into his back.

"Swan!" he groaned. "Emma, Emma, say my name-"

"Hook!" He bit her earlobe harshly.

"No, my darling, say my name. Emma, Gods, please!" He looked at her again, wrecked and desperate, lips red and parted.

"Oh, Killian. Killian, please!" He rubbed her clit as she threw her head back hard, moaning, stones jostling down into the water with a splash as a hand fought to brace her body. "Killian, yes, yes, yes!" She clenched, fluttered, body shuddering into his. Her muscles desperately tried to hold him in, pulling him deeper as his thrusts became erratic, her magic caressing both of them in a blanket of tingling warmth. She sighed his name in a whisper, and he swore, eyes rolling back behind fluttering lashes.

"God, you have a fucking greedy cunt. You’re so fucking tight, I can't, I’m going to -" The cords in his neck were taut, his breath was hot puffs against her ear. "You feel so good, you've ruined me. I need you, I need you! Fuck, fuck, I need - I love - Gods Emma, I love you!"

He groaned the last word and she felt him spill, pulsing with a few more hard bucks of his hips, her heart pounding in her chest. Their breathing was harsh and was the only sound now aside from the sea, the breeze, and the sounds of dripping water over rock.

He stayed inside of her, softening, and she refused to meet his eyes. She lowered her legs, and he pulled out of her trying to kiss her, but she moved her head to the side. Her jaw was set and her body was tense once more; walls up high, if not higher, than before.

The silence continued as they tucked clothing back into place, righting their garments. The wind through the cave actually made a moaning noise, as If it was aware of the tension now, too.

She didn’t say goodbye to him. He’d broken the one unspoken taboo, the reigning covenant of this, whatever this was. She couldn’t, and she wouldn’t deal with these consequences. This was why it was the last time; he was getting reckless and he had that luxury. She didn’t. She turned away from him and he caught her wrist.

“Emma.” His whisper was hoarse. “Please don’t go.”

"You know I can't. We can’t. I tried to tell you before we -" She didn’t look back, and he tugged her wrist not letting go. “This is the last time I want to do this. I can’t - No. I won’t do this anymore.”

"Just once. Stay. I won't ask again."

She turned, but didn’t meet his gaze, recognizing the truth in his words.

"Why?" she whispered quietly, looking up at him with those green, sad, familiar and broken eyes. “You know that we should have never done this to begin with. You know that this is a poor substitute for both of us, a crutch to keep us feeling anything other than numb.” She refused to cry, and swiped at her face with a fury when tears threatened. “We tricked ourselves into thinking there was more to it than there is, and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t lie to my crew, I can’t make excuses, I can’t try to make us something we just aren’t, that we will never be. This was only supposed to be sex, and you know it can’t be more than that.”

“When I win your heart Emma, and I will win it, it won't be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.” Emma scoffed at him, but he continued. He stroked her wrist, that he still held. “Why can’t it be more? We could be together. I’ve told you, I’d give you-”

“Yes.” She sneered at him, rage playing broadly across her face, yanking away, “‘You’d give me.’ What would I give you until you’re bored and find some new whore in another port that catches your fancy, hm? My heart isn’t something to be won. We aren’t in love just because you said something meaningless during a lay. And just what would I give myself? Giving up my ship, my crew, my life that I built from nothing but the blood I spilt; my own and others? What lies beyond being Captain Hook’s little pet?”

His jaw clenched, and he could feel his hand ball in rage.

“That’s not fucking fair and you know it. You could -”

“What? Sail with my crew and yours on the Jolly? We could make a cute little navy fleet so you could play good old days but without the crown? That’s a shit load of good form, right? Your brother would be proud.”

Killian blanched as if she had smacked him. He opened his mouth and when he found no words, met her furious gaze with one of his own.

“Don’t follow me, Hook.” She turned on her heel, heading back to the lights of town towards her ship.

He turned and faced the sea; the moon had risen high from her dip in its waters.

“As you wish, Emma,” he hissed, watching the stars twinkle through the gathering clouds.

Her ship was gone from port at morning light, his crew surlier than ever with nothing but an even surlier Captain to show for it. They sailed back to familiar coasts for easy treasure, not willing to risk any further losses.

Snow had been furious, but understood when Emma had gone off again with that idiot, if only to say goodbye. She knew this would be difficult for Emma, even if Emma didn't understand herself, but Charming was brooding, which meant their own time was put off. Nothing put him in a worse mood than knowing his sister was out with an enemy of his, especially when being out meant ignoring that she had better men falling at her feet from coast to coast.

“She doesn’t see it like we do. Probably because you all raised her like a feral heathen. She doesn’t get the effect she has.” Snow had explained again and again. It was why she had cut her own hair off; why Ruby, Fa, and Merida usually chose female company; why Belle had chosen books and Rory never strayed too far from Phillip. Emma had no idea how many careful glances were stolen when she walked by, and when she did gussy up, she still didn’t seem to understand the full effect of her presence. Snow was never jealous. Instead, if anything, she was more frustrated for David. He could never relax when he was constantly blocking any drunken idiot from trying to see under her skirts.

She could do well enough on her own catching anyone who was outright obstinate, or managed to draw her attention. It was the subtle, suave, more seductive types that had a way of catching her off guard in David’s opinion.

Like one Captain Hook, or Jones, or whatever name he was using on whatever day. Snow had heard the same rant time and time again about Emma deserving better and all of David’s efforts to protect her wasted because of one undeserving jackass that somehow always managed to get past him. The only thing that kept him calm was Snow’s talks with Emma, and how they both noticed the changes in her after she’d been with him. Emma of course was oblivious, but the crew, David and Snow especially, were not.

Emma was softer after being with Hook, calmer, lighter even. She laughed easier, carried herself higher, confidence clear as they sailed. His sister turned into a smitten pastry after their romps, when what the crew needed was the fierce warrior queen. David hated that she didn't know how strong and lovely she was without the idiot telling her. Her demeanor changed into happiness, their intimacy her unhealthy addiction, ripples falling all around her choices.

Snow had promised David that if the situation with Jones became a problem, she would say something, and it had even before the indecency of the previous evening. Snow and Charming’s trysts were quiet and subtle, although it was easy to tell they had affection for each other if you knew them well. She was careful to take the herbal tincture Emma stored for all of them; careful to maintain a small distance between her and David, and careful to keep her emotion in check in situations where it could be used against her. She still remembered some of her days as a royal, before the palace fell. In many ways, her upbringing had served her well.

At the same time, Emma was well guarded and rash, with prickly armor and a soft underbelly. She’d been warned multiple times that her and Jones were playing with fire. Snow thought back to the last time she had brought the subject up to Emma.

Emma had sat on a small stool dreamily looking over the water through the large window in the Captain’s quarters, twirling a lapis lazuli and sapphire necklace in her hands. She’d favored it as a piece of treasure since it was found during their raid at the victory against the Circle, never wearing it but instead, letting the blue stones catch the light making halos on the wooden vanity in front of her. Snow watched her deep in thought, before she had startled her from her thoughts with a knock.

“Snow? I’m sorry, I was just…” She trailed off, reaching for a silver handled brush to comb her hair.

“You don’t have to lie to me Emma. I came here to talk about that, actually.” Snow sat on the edge of her bed, rolling the silk in her fingers. “We need to talk about what happened during that battle, The Circle's attempt on us.”

Emma’s eyes flashed, and she turned away. “We won. What else do you want to t-”

“Hook had the opportunity to end your life, and not only didn’t, but went on to take out a member of his treatise’s party. That alone is sacrilege against most honor codes, but what’s worse is that he saved you from someone accusing you both, in front of that same formed treatise, of having a weakness for each other. That makes all of us weak if you look emotionally manipulated.” Emma scoffed, trying to interrupt but Snow continued on, unfazed. “And then, and then! You rewarded him by letting his crew leave with no damages, were seen with him later in Agrabah’s market, before leaving disheveled, only for him to follow asking where you may have gone. Are you trying to advertise that you two are together? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Us killed? Do you know someone could use him to get to you, and he’d probably do it?” “No he would not. He’d never -”

“Emma. Listen to yourself. You’d never. He could do anything!” Snow stood and moved to sit in front of her on a cedar chest, pleading with her. “Do you honestly know, and can you honestly say that you trust him with our lives and yours?”

Emma sighed, looking away before shaking her head. “Everyone knows then?” “The entire crew has known now for a few years. It’s never been a problem until…” Snow trailed off.

“Until they used him against me at the attack.” Snow nodded, looking down at how sad she sounded.

“If you have feelings for him, you could -”

“I don’t.” Emma snapped, and then after a beat, shrugged. “He was good at fucking, and it was a nice break. We’ll survive.”

“Oh. I thought -”

“Not all of us are like you and my brother. All birds and flowers and butterflies or whatever,” Emma teased, breaking into a grin. Snow blushed, hitting Emma with a large pillow.

“They just hung a bunch of witches in the South, keep it up!” Snow shouted. “Dark, so dark from the woman who wants to love on all the furry forest creatures,” Emma teased again, picking up her own pillow and thwacking Snow back.

When Emma had returned from the beach the night she said goodbye to Hook, Snow had seen a change, but not for the better. The small bit of lightness within Emma was gone, replaced with an impassive expression that poorly hid her anger. Emma had ordered them to leave at first light, and they’d set out as instructed with no real destination but southwest.

Emma barked orders, keeping busy and not letting herself become idle until the early morning hours before the sun rose. Snow was just getting up when she saw Emma on deck, the beautiful blue necklace in hand as she looked out across the starry night.

“Emma? Shouldn’t you go get some sleep?” Snow asked quietly.

Emma nodded, stretching with a yawn. “Yeah. I’ll get some sleep in a moment.” Snow had begun to check the rigging when she heard a small splash. Looking up, she saw Emma walking down below deck and from her perch on the ropes, watched as shimmering blue sunk into a darkened sea.

A little more than a month had passed, and yet David was still growing more annoyed with his sister. She'd done the right thing, both he and Snow had assured her. Even Regina had been supportive. Yet Emma was still brooding. Her moods were unpredictable and wild, her stress making her sick as Snow found her literally looking green after years at sea.

Emma didn't seem to care or understand that her weakness changed the entire crew dynamic, putting everyone on edge. Even David’s own relationship with Snow was suffering, as they fought each other over what was best.

“Maybe we made a mistake, maybe she should have stayed with him,” Snow had whispered one night as they heard Emma pacing the upper deck. She wasn't sleeping, had been dizzy, irritable, and ill.

“He was the mistake,” David had hissed back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s never going to change, but she? She deserves more than settling. She can change. He's just a one handed pirate with a drinking problem, but Emma can be more.”

Snow had only sighed and rolled over in their bed, annoyed.

Even Ruby had become annoyed. Emma had taken a whiff of the chowder due to be supper for a few days, and promptly vomited into a clean stove pot.

Only Robin had been able to tolerate her, his patience and kindness infuriating a jealous Regina. That night, they had made port anchoring in River's End. Emma stayed on board sulking again. In the morning, David was surprised that Regina had started using a gentle hand with Emma too. Robin and Regina exchanged looks as David looked on.

David narrowed his eyes. He pulled Snow aside, and motioned towards Regina. “Find out what is going on there. I'm worried.”

When Snow had come back wringing her hands and distracted, he pressed her, but she said only that she needed to confirm something with Emma. They passed the night in silence, curled away from each other, both sleeping fitfully.

The next day, the women on the crew were quiet, an uneasy and eerie silence settling over a secret they seemed to know wouldn't stay secret for very long. It drove David crazy, and he excused himself for a walk at lunchtime, his sister still not yet awake as her crew worked tirelessly. He wondered if she was 'sick’ again. Heartache was not an excuse for her behavior, especially over someone so heinous.

He'd walked for a while, looking over the town of River’s End, the market bustling. He noticed several of the potion shops and apothecaries Emma favored were closed. That was certain to not improve her mood. Sitting at the mouth of where one of the rivers and the sea met, he watched as a body on a rope swayed in the breeze further out near the water. A pirate? No. River's End left that type of punishment to Korumpiran’s jurisdiction.

An old man fished nearby, nodding at him and the strung up body.

“A Bruja. You call them witches or healers up North.” He made a circle with his thumb and index finger, spitting through it.

“Witchcraft is illegal here now?” David asked, trying to sound unworried.

“No Señor, it's legal - they got caught making unfinished potions for the nobles. There's been a shortage of silphium plant and black cohosh leaf in the Far North East, so their potions didn't work. The nobles don't look kindly on their mistresses getting in a family way, you see. No one's potions have been working. Some bruja lie, sell them anyway, but most told people they could have a Bambino, just to wait until the next crop-”

“Bambino?” David tried to remember his dialects. The word was unfamiliar in trading, he was sure.

“Ah, si, yeah? The main ingredients for potions of prevention, they grow to the East. It's been about two, three, four months now?”

Everything clicked into place.

When he rushed back onto The Wing, Snow was waiting for him in their room.

“We need to talk,” she said slowly, but David shook his head.

“I already know. Where is she?”

Killian had sailed for weeks looking for her, tracing her name and her ship at ports of call all over the seas. She’d all but disappeared; no one had heard anything and she hadn’t been seen in weeks. One tavernkeep had the audacity to lie to him, telling him in hushed tones after a few coppers that she’d been removed as Captain of the Gilded Wing. Even after two black eyes, he’d sworn it to be true, so Killian had disposed him of a few teeth as well. When he heard it from several different ports of call, though, he began to actually feel fear. Had there been a mutiny? Of all the crews he’d known, Swan’s seemed the most unlikely to revolt.

Something had to have happened. Taverns she and her crew frequented hadn’t seen her. He heard from a smuggler near the coast of Rougehelm that a woman calling herself Swan had been spotted only a few towns over, a silent Eastern and loud Northeastern pair of women her companions. He recognized a description of Merida anywhere. He paid the smuggler a hefty purse, and the man did not disappoint with his information; the Gilded Wing was truly under another’s control. The Swan, in

all her notoriety, was seemingly on the run, hiding her face from port to port for the last three weeks while her companions flanked her sides. They were currently on a small, unnamed sloop that moored in a merchant area. The crew of the Jolly, credit to their intelligence, did not question why they headed up the coast to the small town of Pierral.

The first night, his men enjoyed the brothels as Killian stalked the streets trying to find information. When he asked about a woman fitting her description, he half wondered if this was a ruse put forth by Swan herself.

She’d been spotted in a thick, hooded cloak and skirts, with her hair pinned in a bun. Based on that description, he could tell something was very wrong. It was an abnormally warm November, snow not even reaching Arrendale but for the tallest mountains. A cloak wasn’t needed, especially for a sailor, and Emma never wore full skirts if she could help it. Pinning her hair back was another strange modification to her wardrobe. She almost always wore her hair down or braided.

On the second night, he saw her. Well, she saw him.

A woman had turned a corner in front of him with speed, her skirts swishing as one hand clutched her stomach. Killian would normally have paid her no mind, but when she had started vomiting, he asked if she was alright. He was a gentleman, after all.

Emma had turned around and flinched at the sight of him like he was a ghost. She looked like one, skin pallid, face gaunt with sharp lines, lips cracked, and deep bags under her eyes. Her hair was pinned back, but tangled curls had come loose and clung to her neck above an ill fitting corset and skirt. The skirt swallowed her midsection and was tied below her breast where it was too loose, the corset too small in the breast but loose at the hem. The thick cloak she wore on top would have covered how disheveled she looked, if she hadn’t pulled it aside to wretch.

Killian’s eyes were wide with shock and earnest confusion; a hand automatically reached behind his ear to scratch.

“Emma, is everything al-”

“Killian Jones, don’t you dare say alright or I swear I’ll -” Emma didn’t finish the threat, instead turning back to vomit again, her body heaving. Killian felt helpless, settling to approach closer when she leaned against a wall with her forearm, gasping for breath.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you. I just want to know what happened, and if you’re safe.” He watched her face twist through a mixture of emotions: amusement, sadness, contempt. When he tried to touch Emma’s wrist with his hand, she jerked away from him like he’d burned her, and wrapped her cloak tightly around her body. Her eyes flashed with fright before she hid her fear behind a blinking glare.

“Don’t touch me. I’m fine, I’m just… sick. I’m headed to the apothecary.” Her eyes burned through him, even through her exhaustion. “Stop following me. I thought I made my feelings clear. You are nothing to me, there is no future for us.”

“Emma, please, I -”

“Don’t follow me, Hook.” Killian felt the sting of her rebuking him by his false name, letting her words echo in his ears as she stalked away.

He looked up at the stars and silently prayed to the one that took his brother. Should he stay or should he follow? The star laughed at him as it twinkled. He knew the answer, and felt it from nose to navel, from foot to hook. His brother echoed through his head, his words clearly written like the constellations.

A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets. Today was not the day he’d stop chasing this woman.

Following up the footpath, a wooden sign that proclaimed apothecary topped a small thatched house’s gate. The door was partially ajar, and he could see Swan’s figure through a pane window move quickly through the storefront. Killian pressed an ear by the door jam, but could hear nothing.

He crept in to the store, opening the door silently to duck between some shelves of books, fine powders, and strange dried creatures. Swan was at the counter, talking lowly to someone. He could hear someone scoffing, with indignation, and then the grumble of an argument before a high, nasally, prim voice spoke out.

“I’ve told you, we don't have it here. First, with the Silphium, Black Belladonna and Cohosh shortage, even making it would be impossible.” A dismissive sniff was let out. “And,” whoever was speaking added haughtily, “we don't make potions or tinctures for that kind of clientele. Your pirate’s life leading you into trouble is not any of our-”

Glass broke loudly, and the unknown woman let out a cry of fear. Killian peeked around the shelf to see the shopkeeper’s hand held out in defense, Swan’s knife on her throat. The shopkeeper was a thin and pinched older woman, snarled gray hair held back by a large feathered brooch.

“I don't care if you serve rats or royals,” Swan gritted out through her teeth, dangerously low. “Tell me where I can go, then.” Killian could see a dribble of blood making a lazy trail from the point of the knife down the shopkeeper's neck. Swan was in some sort of trouble to resort to this.

“Arendelle, Arendelle! There's someone there that can help you get rid of it there,” the shopkeeper trembled, her voice cracking. His Swan was cursed? He heard the shopkeeper yelp, and Emma was out the door in a blur. When he was sure Emma was gone, he made his way back where the shop keeper laid, eyes forever open, reflecting the many herbs around her. Her neck was cut, and her hair was shorn to the scalp, bleeding slightly, right where the brooch had been.

Killian took leave to find her, letting Will and Smee run The Jolly in his absence. The fear that had settled into him over whatever was happening to Swan left him rowing to Arendelle, his thoughts a mess. She didn’t want him near her, which he would usually respect without question. With her, it was just - for whatever reason, he felt he needed an explanation and closure. He was owed why she hated the sight of him, looking at him and almost everyone else with a vehement glare.

He saw the sloop that Emma was in with Merida and Fa, tying off the rowboat and watching the Jolly become a speck on the horizon. Walking into town, everything was still and quiet as the evening settled in. The only place where any noise came from was a small tavern squeezed into a narrow space where he could hear thick brogue. Merida.

Peeking through the doorway, he could see her and Fa along with the other patrons, but Swan was nowhere in sight. Killian wandered around for a bit, deciding to finally head somewhere less confining. He headed towards the rows of houses to quit feeling like he was suffocating.

Leaving the town, he had only walked for a few moments before he heard a familiar voice cursing, coming from the beach with speed. When her eyes met his, she wasn’t angry. Instead, she looked horrified.

“What are you doing here?” sEmma hissed, taking a step back. “This all has to be a nightmare. I can’t handle you right now on top of this.”

“I followed you. I know you said you didn’t want to see me, but I thought -”

“I have to be imagining this. I’m going insane from the guilt, too.” She ran a hand through her half loose curls, then pressed on her temples.

“Dammit, Emma, what is going on with you?” Killian pleaded. He touched her elbow lightly, and she started, pulling back and away as she had the last time he’d seen her. Hiking up her dress, Emma turned and stalked up the path to the seaside cliffs. He chased her skirted form, calling after her.

“Swan!” She didn’t turn, only kept on her steady march. “We’ve known each other for years. Please just tell me what the bloody hell is going on. What happened with your crew? Where is your ship?” She didn’t stop, but wavered slightly, a hand going to her mouth. “Emma, let me help you!”

Emma didn’t answer but instead, ran to a large bush, emptying the contents of her stomach. Killian rushed to her, but she held up a hand when he got a short length from her.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she hissed, body doubled over as she heaved into the brush. “I’m here to help you. I know you’re cursed. If I can help you break it -”

“Cursed? Oh, this is rich, this is -” Another attack hit her, and she caught herself on one of the pines that littered the cliff. When she had finished retching, she wiped her mouth and glared at his anxious form. “I’m cursed alright. Since you helped create this curse, I don’t think you can break it.”

“Emma, you’re not making any sense.” Reaching for her again, she took a step back shaking her head. “I haven’t cursed you, I don’t understand -”

“You have. When you’re sold a tonic made with missing ingredients, curses can happen so much easier. I suppose you never meant the phrase ‘a pirate always keeps a souvenir of their conquest’ to apply to me, but surprise! I’m carrying our souvenir.” Emma gestured to her abdomen, and let out a wry laugh.

Killian felt the air leave his lungs and his head spun. “Emma, you're…” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “You’re with child?”

The question doused the fire in her eyes, her shoulders hunching as she averted her gaze from his. Wringing her hands, she shivered and drew the cloak she was wearing closer to her body. He softly surveyed the faint glow in her gaunt cheeks and the gentle swell in her breasts; the loose skirts she wore now instead of trousers. She didn’t answer, and she didn’t need too.

Killian rasped out another breath. “And you're sure it's mine?” he blurted without thinking. He regretted it immediately when she looked down, and he realized that she was crying.

“I haven't…” She shifted her body weight and wrapped her arms around herself tightly. “There's…” Emma took a breath and gazed up at him, steadily. “I haven't been with anyone else in a long time.”

“A long time?” he repeated, his mouth dry and tongue struggling to form words. He felt like time had slowed, and that his mind was underwater. Nothing seemed real; everything was muffled.

“Over a year. I've been with only you for almost two years.” She looked back down at the ground, and he heard her cough slightly. The moon caught her face, and he could see tears falling. Killian took a step towards her and Emma pulled away, swiping a hand at her eyes.

“How far along are -”

“It doesn't matter.” Emma threw her hands up, laughing darkly through tears. “I'm here to get rid of it. I didn't think…” She swallowed hard. Killian could hear her choking back a sob. “I didn't think you'd want to know. You've had to have bastards before with all the women you’ve fucked, and we can't -” She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. “I can't be a parent. I just thought it was better this way. I'll drink a tonic, and a few days from now I'll be sick. It’ll… Look, you don't have to worry.”

He blanched. She looked up at him slowly, a look of hatred in her eyes that he'd never seen, like she'd given up on everything. It made his chest constrict.

“Emma, please. Can we talk about this? It's your choice, but I'll take care of the babe -”

“You? You'll take care of a child?” Her laugh was hoarse, and her eyes flashed with rage. “Killian, you think you can take care of a baby? You think either of us would be good parents?” Her voice rose higher. “We're orphans. We were raised by murderers and thieves. We don’t just have blood on our hands, we’re fucking soaked in it. Neither of us knows the first god damned thing about being parents -”

“WHICH IS WHY I'D DO BETTER!” he roared, and she flinched as he closed the distance between them.

”You think that just because I've been given up on, that I've lost everyone, I haven't dreamed of my own children or having a life outside of all this?” He gripped her hands tightly, looking down at her pleadingly. “Emma, you aren't a stupid woman. I don't have any bastard children anywhere. If I did, I'd have gone to care for them.” The truth rung in his voice and she cried harder, her body shaking and making her look small. “I would have taken them as far as I could from any sort of pain. I'd soften every edge, doing better in every way so another child didn't grow up desolate and lost like we did.” He took a hand to her cheek, wiping away tears from her face.

“Don’t. Just… don’t,” she whispered into his hand, and he rubbed his thumb over the apple of her cheek.

”If you’re sure, I’ll at least stay. I helped you get into this situation. The least I can do is stay and be by your side.” He cupped her cheek, and she buried her face into his chest, sobbing. This was his Swan with her wings clipped, scared and alone. He felt her fear as well, all consuming and raw. He found himself holding her tight, trying to assure her that he would protect her. “Swan, Emma, I - I meant what I said, when-”

She shook her head, and pulled from his embrace. “I won’t send you away. I could no more send you away now than I could stop the tide. I just…” He could see her, every bit of her, walls down and unguarded for the first time since they had taken to chasing each other. “I’m so scared.”

He crookedly smiled, kissing her forehead while gathering her close. “I am too.”

Walking back to the inn, Emma tried to keep her stomach from emptying again. This was an entirely foreign experience to her, as she hadn’t exactly been around many infants or pregnant women. Seafaring women that got knocked up disappeared onto land, either with or without their lovers, never to be heard from again. Women pirates were rare enough; bastard children culled the number even further.

After Emma had stopped crying and gathered herself, she'd made a point to return the distance between herself and Killian. She would not disappear to raise some child in a cottage somewhere; the life she fought so hard for awaited. She'd been weak, settling into his embrace and letting him comfort her - no more. A line had to be drawn, she couldn't hurt any longer.

As they made their way into the inn, Emma felt her stomach lurch. The innkeeper’s husband, a ginger bearded man, was chopping wood outside. He wiped his brow with his hand and gave them a wave; the smell of the pine wood mixed with his sweat hit Emma like a swell in a storm.

Dry heaving and doubling over, she let her empty stomach push out bile and acid onto the ground. The innkeeper's husband watched from his work, frozen in awkward panic, and Emma had to control the urge to hurt him. Her emotions felt out of control, always ramped to the highest feeling of either rage or sadness. A dry sob escaped her throat along with a cough.

She felt a hand rest on her back. Killian was there, concern glittering in his blue eyes as he rubbed softly on her back. Carefully using his hook, he pushed aside hair that had escaped her bun.

“Come on love. Let’s get you inside.”

Emma shook him off even though dizziness was causing her to wobble as she stood and made her way into the inn.

The innkeeper greeted her with a wide smile and a wave. She was an older, plump woman with gray brown hair. She reminded Emma of Granny with her no nonsense attitude. “Hello Miss Swan, welcome back. Would you like me to brew some tea again or…” Killian stepped through the doorway and her eyes narrowed.

“Maggie, this is Killian. He'll need a room for the night,” she said as she dug through her coin purse. Emma felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically. She'd been budgeting, but her purse was light from overnight stays and whatever food her stomach could handle.

As she dug for coins, Killian put several on the counter. “I could stay with you?” he asked, tentatively.

Emma shook her head, her lips a thin line.

“No. I, I just… I need time.” She could see his face fall, but he nodded.

Maggie grunted, extending keys with wary looks in Killian’s direction. “Watch that hook around my linens, young man. You will buy any that have holes in them.”

He took the keys and flashed her a dazzling smile. “Maggie, we may have only just met, but I wouldn't dream of it. Good night ladies.” He gave a small bow to Emma and made his way upstairs. Maggie blushed, fanning herself with a doilie.

Emma collapsed into a chair near a small fire grate as Maggie brought a kettle out.

“That's him, then?” the older woman said in a hushed tone, sitting down and placing a kettle over the flame.

Emma nodded.

“Well, he isn't bad looking. You could certainly have done worse.” She placed a cup and saucer in Emma's hands. Emma snorted.

“Maggie, that isn't the issue. And you know very well that I-“

“What have you eaten today, Miss Swan?” Maggie interrupted, surveying her body.

Emma squirmed in her seat. “Nothing stays down. Or if it does, it makes me feel disgusting, sitting in my stomach like an anchor. I just -”

“I'll make you some gravy. Even if you feel miserable, you need to eat.”

Emma groaned, setting down the tea cup and burying her face in her hands. The kettle whistled and Maggie carefully took it from the flame, pouring tea and dropping a few sugar cubes into each cup, making sure to put extra in Emma's.

“Sorry, Maggie.”

“It's alright, I don't mind. What time tomorrow are you going to the herbalist?” Maggie stirred her tea, her face judgement free. Emma had discovered the inn around the time she'd celebrated her third anniversary of being captain. Maggie was a take no prisoners, judge no soul, kind woman who made a mean meat pie and damn good ale. Her beds were comfortable and her knit blankets were warm and plush. Emma had several on her bed in the Gilded Wing.

Or she had. Now, she assumed either Regina or David slept in her bedroom. Emma lifted her head and stared at her tea cup.

“Get rid of it. Get rid of it, and come back.”

That's what David had told her as Snow looked down at her boots. Emma had left in the middle of the night; Fa and Merida comforting her in her shame and misery. Merida helped her pin her hair up as she wretched, Fa helped fit her in clothing that while ridiculous, drew away from her figure changing so drastically.

“Tomorrow morning. Sunrise.” Emma swallowed thickly. Tomorrow, she'd go to the herbalist with Killian, and it would be done. Life would resume, she'd stop puking, and she could return to her crew with contrition and hopefully regain her position. She and Killian would go their separate ways, as she sailed as far from the waters he favored as possible.

Her stomach knotted and an ache in her chest began. She wanted to blame the pregnancy, but knew better.

“And Killian, he's joining you?” Maggie asked as she sipped her tea.

Emma nodded, and continued staring.

“Well, I wish you well. Now, drink your tea. I'll be back with gravy. I expect half of the tea gone by the time I return.” Maggie threw back her tea and stood, heading towards the kitchen.

Emma picked up her cup and sipped, staring at the flames.

Killian didn't sleep after listening to Emma and Maggie's conversation.

He crept to his room and sat on the mattress of a carved wood bed, picking at the threads of the blanket that lay on it. Laying back, he allowed his thoughts to catch up, realization setting in waves as he stroked his hook with his hand, resting both on his chest.

In a different time and place, he had imagined his excitement at the prospect of having a child. Dreams of realities where he had made better choices. A shrieking voice called him Papa. Where the woman he loved returned his affections -

And there it was. He loved her. It seemed obvious to him now; that before this revelation how easy it was to chase her with no regard to anything else; a single minded drive of her and survival. As if someone had shown him a partial map of a coastline, only to reveal an entire continent that lay beyond. The clarity of the knowledge that had always been there left him with a sadness that clawed up his throat. Every path led to her. He’d followed constellations on stormy seas enough to know a guiding star. If she was only there to be admired from an unfathomable distance, at least he’d had moments when there was more than this sordid mess.

It would be easier now, for both of them. Emma would realize how close she came to dealing with a horrible mistake, he an unworthy and unfit man, and they’d part. No, it would be easier for her. In his mind, he knew that long nights of thinking about the realities where someone called him Papa meant that there was no one else but Emma he'd want to be the one they called Mother.

A knock sounded at his door and he stood, opening it to find Emma's tired eyes surveying him warily.

“If you still want to, and you don't have to, you have no obligation.” She stumbled over her words, looking down at the ground. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Don't feel like you have to be with me tomorrow. I'll be alright on my own.”

“Do you want me there Swan?” he asked, softly. After a long pause, Emma looked up at him, eyes glassy. She nodded. “Then I'll see you in the morning. Rest easy, love.”

When she’d left, he sat up in a plush chair by the fireplace, listening to the sounds of the inn around him. When it went still he left, walking along the rocky coastline, letting the sea air fill his lungs. Sea spray hit his face, the cold finally coming in to settle as winter took its hold. Looking at the dark clouds obscuring the stars from view, he guessed they might even get snow today.

Trudging back towards the inn in the early morning hours, he was surprised to see Maggie waiting for him. She smiled, eyes bright and dangerously astute over half moon glasses. “Come have a chat with me, dear.”

Killian almost gulped. Two large metal needles clicked away in her hands, as yarn knotted itself into a pattern. He sat across from her, unsure what to do with himself.

“Emma is petrified for tomorrow, you know.” She spoke matter of factly, unwavering in her stare at him. Killian scratched behind his ear nervously.

“Aye. Can’t say I’m much better.”

“No?” He would swear the woman’s eyes gleamed and her lips twitched up into a larger smile. “Intriguing. Emma is an interesting little duckling, that’s for sure. I can guide her only so far, because she’s just so stubborn. It’s far easier to let her make her own choices without pushing. If you push someone like Emma,” the clacking of the needles stopped abruptly, causing her words to reverberate through the room, “they will resist. Letting them make the choice they know they want without help may be hard, but it’s far worth it.”

“The choice… they want?”

“You aren’t a stupid man. Start looking for the obvious, and let her take her time. Apparently, she thought you were special enough to swear off anyone else, and to bring you up every visit here for years now. You seem to annoy her quite frequently, with how many times I've heard your name in Emma's tales. Shame about this, really. If someone heard her talk about you both, they'd think you two might make a good pairing.” Killian looked up at her smiling face, unable to hide his slack jaw. Her eyes glittered, the shrewd expression she wore mixed with clear amusement.

She clapped her hands, picking out a rich ruby skein of yarn. “And now, you learn to crochet. Anyone lucky enough to have a hook for a hand should learn how to use it properly.”

Killian blinked, but she had already layered on knots directly on his hook, and soon he found himself making some strange knotted monstrosity that vaguely resembled a scarf, wondering how this woman had found her way through Emma and himself so easily.

Emma had never liked mornings, but she hated them infinitely more now that she was pregnant. Every morning meant soreness, a deep weariness that settled in her bones to the very marrow, strange emotions felt on levels she had no idea how to express, and of course, vomiting. This morning was no different. It was still dark outside her window, but the sky was lightening into deep plums and velvety blues where the sun would soon try to begin its journey. Deep gray clouds had appeared, while she could see a chill had begun to try to creep in with the window panes fogging around the corners.

It would be beautiful, save for the fact that Emma’s first glances at her surroundings were interrupted by heaving her guts out into a large bucket next to her bed.

Downstairs, she could hear the low masculine rumble of Killian’s voice mixed with Maggie’s laughter, both of them dropping off when Emma let out an involuntary moan of discomfort. Not wanting to worry them or have anyone in her room, Emma stood and carried her full bucket down the stairs, throwing it out the back door, before heading to the front room to find them.

At first, when Emma saw Killian holding the small wooden hook in his hand and plucking at deep emerald knots with his metal hook, she thought she’d just gone mad. It was easier to believe that rather than the fierce Captain Hook, with whom she’d watched gut a man, was sitting and crocheting with Maggie like they were the best of friends. He hadn’t even noticed her come into the doorway, so focused on his task, his tongue ever so slightly pushed out of his mouth in concentration.

“Good morning, Emma.” Maggie smiled, wry amusement painting every part of the smile on her face. Killian blinked, looking up at Emma’s disheveled form in the doorway as the tips of his ears turned red.

Emma only raised an eyebrow before nodding at the both of them. “Looks like you two became fast friends.”

“Swan, good morning, I was -” he stumbled.

“Killian turns out to be a delightfully well read and learned man, Emma. No wonder you’ve been hiding him away for this entire -”

Emma’s glare and overwhelming curtness betrayed her lack of emotional control. “Enough, Maggie.”

Silence fell, and Maggie looked at Emma impassively before standing and facing Killian. “It was lovely to teach you to crochet my dear. Remember what I told you.” She nodded at Emma, who simply raised her chin to regard the older woman.

Killian rose, carefully placing his work on a table. He stepped towards Emma, and she flinched before his gentle touch on her elbow relaxed her. “To the herbalist then?” When Emma only nodded, he looked at her frame. “You need to eat something before we go. Maggie made breakfast.” He pointed to a pile of eggs nearby, and Emma felt her stomach lurch again.

The smell of the cheese and grease on the eggs made her body feel like it was being wrung by invisible hands, her lungs constricting as she barely made it to the back door.

Killian sat in the door frame with her, unease on his face as she dry heaved for what felt like ages.

“Alright, no eggs,” he whispered, and pressed a cool cup of water against her side. She drank it greedily, stomach still empty. “Maggie thought you might be able to handle them.”

“There is nothing I can ‘handle’. Everything, every single fucking food, makes me -” As if on cue, she coughed miserably and held herself against another wracking spasm. “I hate this. I can't wait to be done. I'll have my own body back. I'll be able to eat again and not smell things from a mile away…“ She trailed off when she saw the expression on his face change from unease to impassive as he pressed a warm mug into her hand.

“We had a pregnant Romani woman, Esmeralda, board us for safe passage; she swore by this. Brought along a damnable goat for fresh cream, even. I thought it might help. Maggie doctored it a bit to your tastes, so.” He shrugged as she sniffed the drink tentatively. Deep reddish brown, the smell did not offend for once. It was thicker than the tea, gravy, and broth she'd been barely managing to hold down as sustenance.

Taking a sip, her stomach settled almost instantly, and she let out a sigh of relief. It was complete bliss. Chocolate, cinnamon, sweet cream, ginger, and a gentle hint of mint or some other herb were warm against the cold outside.

“Killian, this is,” Emma tried to sip it slowly but she was starving if she admitted it to herself. “This is amazing. Thank you.”

He scratched behind his ear and nodded. His lips twitched upwards as she drank, relaxing as she finished the mug.

“Maggie made more of it, if you need it.” His voice was quiet, and she could sense the underlying whisper there, what more of it meant. What came after.

“Let's go,” she said in reply and they stood, Emma placing her empty mug just inside the door to be washed later. As the sun rose, licking pieces of snow cloud with oranges and pinks, they headed to the herbalist.

The shack at the top of a small cobbled alleyway was different from most of the places in Arendelle. While most homes were nicely kept with bright carved patterns painted like knit sweaters everywhere, this place was a stark, crooked lean-to made of plank wood that buckled in on itself in places. Killian instantly disliked the place, the smell of rot and death a reminder of an early life he buried deep.

A shoddy sign hung with dark purple words in messy scrawl, ‘Herbals, Sundrys, Blood Magicks, Potienes & Potables by Pann’. A crow’s skull hung lopsided off one of its edges.

Killian’s hackles rose. He'd heard of Pann before in his travels. He even had his suspicions that Pann was once the ruler of the cursed isle that had killed Liam.

Pann was a notorious thief of magical artifacts, spells, and potions, teaching himself the forbidden arts to maintain a glamor of immortality. In reality, he was hundreds of years old, falling apart at his rotted seams. He specialized in blood magicks, necromancy, and assorted things that made most people's skin crawl. There were even rumors that he'd killed a fairy just to remove his own shadow, and he was the reason the fae folk had gone into hiding or given up their wings to live human lives.

“This is where you were told to go?” Killian asked lowly, eyes darting around at the shadowy corners of the alley.

Emma nodded, heading towards the crooked black door, one carved with runes and had embedded animal skulls. Some of the more destroyed skulls were tiny, and Killian felt his stomach flip at a few in a tucked corner that looked vaguely human. Forcing his eyes away, he saw another set of runes that seemed to change before his eyes.

‘Welcome lost boy.’ The words changed again as he blinked, where once was no meaning he could now see clear writing in singed characters. ‘You're nothing to the lost girl.’ It changed again, morphing as he stared transfixed. ‘Worthless man, kneel before the door to Neverland’.

He felt himself bend to kneel, unbidden. The words changed faster and faster, surrounding him as he felt his hook rise to his neck, the point resting gently against his pulse point. ‘Join Liam. Join every failure you are, Killian Jones: forgotten son, abandoned one, slave boy. Spill your blood before these steps. Spare a woman your embarrassment; she doesn't feel anything for you, or your child. You are unloved, unwanted, and unnecessary. Spare the world your shame. Feed the shadow, feed the shadow, feed the shadow -’

Killian was wrenched from his trance by Emma's concerned face, his body trembling. Her hand rested along his neck gripping his hook tightly, as he dropped it away with a look of disgust. The words were back on the door, unintelligible and smoldering.

“There was a defense spell, I'm sorry. I couldn't get to you in time as I broke it.” Looking at his pained face and the sweat beading on his brow, Emma cocked her head. “What did it say to you? Are you alright?”

Swallowing thickly, he stood and nodded, running his hand over his forehead and through his hair. He wished he could tell her everything, but Maggie was right. It wasn't the time to push with his own worries or inadequacies. When she reached for his forearm and gave it a squeeze, his breath came back fully, and he helped her push through the sodding door.

Inside, more skulls littered the tall shelves, and even more hung with carved bones and strange beads like a macabre chandelier. A young man, or better yet, boy, sat in a worn chair.

“Welcome, Emma Swan.” Nasally and like thick oil, the boy had an air of dangerous energy, thick and cloying. The smell of death made Killian gag, but Emma seemed unaware.

“Pann,” she said simply. “You know what I'm here for.”

“I do.” Pann glanced over at Killian, and smirked a crooked and evil grin. “I'm surprised to see your friend survived my little defense charm.”

Killian grunted, rocking on his heels and trying to hide how unnerved he was. “I'm a survivor mate. It's what I do.”

Emma nodded, running a finger down the spine of a molding book. Killian noticed that it was muggy and damp in the hut. Where the outside was finally chilly, in here, he felt like he was in a jungle. Something moved out of his peripheral and he turned to see the slip of a shadow.

“I have a deal to propose, Swan. Let my shadow take the life in you instead of using a potion. Easier, we both benefit, no pain, no sleep, no chance of death -” Pann counted these things off his fingers. Killian felt his head start to spin, and Emma winced.

“Oi, wait a tick - sleep? Pain? Chance of death? Swan, what's all this then?” Killian stared at her, and she gave him an apologetic frown.

“The potion… It's very difficult to brew, but it's also hard on the body of the user,” she began, but Pann began to laugh.

“You didn't tell him? Oh, now that's rich.” Pann’s grin was like a jack-o-lantern the port towns displayed in the autumn; a grin from ear to ear, splitting his face like some sort of demon. As far as Killian was concerned, the boy-man-thing was a demon. “Potion side effects include a deep sleep as the magic pushes out the…” he made finger movements, and Killian stepped protectively towards Emma, “‘issues’, and there's pain before, a chance of death… Easier to prevent pregnancy, you know. Tricky business extinguishing life.”

The demon giggled. Killian looked at Emma and they exchanged a glance.

“You can't. You can't do that if you could die,” Killian moved towards her again, concern overtaking her need for distance.

“It's a chance I'm going to take. Unless I feed the shadow -”

“NO.” Killian could hear the echo of those words in his head. Whatever demon the boy-man was, the shadow must be worse. He saw another movement in his peripheral, as the shadow thing watched them hungrily.

“Swan, don't listen to him. My shadow is the best answer to this.” Pann smiled his lopsided grin and Killian saw a black shape creep towards Emma, its tendrils extended. “Go on love, feed the shadow. Give it your magic. Give me your magic...”

“Emma… “ Killian took another step towards her, the hair on his neck raised.

“Pann, we had a deal for the potion!” Darting shadows seemed to be coming from every corner, circling them.

“Yes. Well. I originally didn't know your suitor would be here, making negotiations more difficult. He even survived my last lines of defense, which makes this so much more awkward. I'll be taking your magic now, Swan. All of you can feed the shadow.“

The black thing shot forward and Killian was there with his cutlass. The shadow morphed around it, impervious to the blade. The demon cackled his demented giggles.

“Emma, use your magic!” He reached for her hand, grasping it through inky blackness.

Green eyes pierced through the gloom, panic stricken. “Killian, I can't -”

Killian’s heart raced, trying to save her, himself, and the child; the echoing sounds of cackles surrounded them as the shadow compressed. Through the darkness, he could see Emma with the shadowy form of a man, pushing away its attempts to stroke her stomach as its clawed fingers grew larger.

“Emma, please, use your magic!” Killian shouted, before she stared directly into his eyes and light exploded in the room.

The shadow disintegrated around Killian’s body, and he saw that the man shaped form had disappeared as well. Pann was still laughing, a vial in hand as he aged in the light, his glamor gone. An old man sat in his stead, continuously aging further, skin pulling tight over bones until they crumbled.

Pann’s dry cackle only stopped once he was ash, the potion vial laying in a small pile of dust.

Emma fell forward, eyes half closed while she took in gasps of air. He caught her, grabbed the vial and pulled her out of the door as the lean-to collapsed.

“Bad time,” she panted, leaning on Killian’s side, “to tell you that I can't control my magic any more? Or that even the most simple spells drain me?”

He didn't answer as he led her up to the cliffside path, trying to hide how frightened he was. She was shaking herself, her fingers tightly holding on to his coat with white knuckles. He tried to find words that didn't fall flat as they reached the cliffside, but the only words that he could think of were too much.

I never want you in that much danger again. I don't want to lose you.

Emma pulled away from him and he gave her the vial, though every part of him screamed not to; yelling for him to either pour it out or break it.

They sat on the cliff, overlooking the sea in shaky silence for a moment.

“No magic anymore, then?”

“I can't control it. It comes and goes, I just…” Emma look down at her hands, face falling. “I'm sorry about all of this.”

He shook his head, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the statement. Sorry for being in his life like he craved, desperately?

“Swan. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Emma, before you make any choice, I just wanted to say that if this is it,” he hesitated, and Emma tensed. “I'm glad to have had the time with you. Whatever decision you make, I'll respect.”

He wasn't lying, the truth rang clear to her. Something was still missing, though.

“If I don't drink it, you'll…?” She rolled the dark vial in her palms, watching the liquid move slowly inside. It could kill her. So could many things. So could the look in a pair of blue eyes when she'd begged for death.

“I'll take the babe. No one will know. I'll tell my crew it passed, and I'll leave with it.”

“On to land?” she asked incredulously. There was no lie hidden, but the thought of the man who embodied a sailor being stripped of his home still shocked her.

“If it's time, it's time. I have a cottage on the cliffs that I planned to retire to one day; we'll be safe there. I'll raise the child.” He nodded firmly, and she could almost see him chasing around a dark haired boy or girl, their laughter infectious. Her stomach churned at the imagined image, her presence absent as he raised their child.

“I…” She shook the image out of her head. “I wouldn't… I mean, I'm not ready to be a mother yet. It would be just you.”

He nodded, looking out across the sea. “I know.”

“You'd still…?” He nodded again, not looking at her.

She let her mind drift.

A boy on his lap, a miniature of him in every way except for slightly downturned lips. Killian pointing out the stars to him under a blanket. A dark haired woman shouting for them to come in to eat supper. Emma's erasure complete, even in her fantasies. The stress of the day was making her insane as tears spilled down her face. Jealousy of an imagined woman living a life and in a home that she'd never have. She swiped angrily at her eyes. “What would you tell him about me?”

This time, his head turned to look at her, eyes boring holes through her skin. “What would you want me to tell… ‘him’?” To anyone else, the statement would have been without emotion. But Emma could hear the pang of sadness there, gentle and understated. Her breath caught, and she struggled for a moment. She'd used ‘him’. Her hand automatically stroked the tiny swell of her stomach, and she saw Killian’s hand twitch.

Emma shrugged, and swirled the vial. Killian looked away again, face impassive.

“I'd do anything for my kin, and I promise you that he would want for nothing.”

“I believe you.”

They sat in silence, watching the snow swirl over the sea. When she shivered slightly, he pulled a blanket from under his coat, laying it across both of them. It was deep blue and monstrously lumpy. Emma smiled, another one of his and Maggie's trial runs. Scooting slightly closer to him, she laid a head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

If she really listened to herself, the choice was and had been made the minute they'd killed Pann and his shadow.

“Would you let me visit?” she whispered, barely audible over the sounds of the waves below.

The chuckle he let out rumbled through him, a low vibration.

“Emma, there isn't much I wouldn't let you do.” The words were low and earnest, and she forced any feeling from the emotions running wild through her away.

Sitting up, she uncorked the vial, watching his shoulders sag from her peripheral.

When she poured the black liquid over the cliff to the rocks below, his grin was like a beacon on foggy nights, bright and forever sought after. The waves rinsed the liquid away, black and broken glass replaced with the sparkle of limestone and quartz in a patch of sunlight peeking through the gray clouds, as she laid her head on his shoulder again.

Maggie wasn't surprised when Killian came back practically walking on air. She'd gathered some old books and some new, freshly purchased with the sale tags neatly snipped for him, and made Emma a stack of pancakes covered in a dusting of sugar, cinnamon, and honey. Emma managed to eat a few before excusing herself to rest before letting Merida and Fa know she wouldn’t be returning with them.

Killian could tell she was resigning herself to this, and he hoped that he could at least in some way make it up to her when she was ready. It was bad enough to say goodbye to her friends and family to join his crew. She knew some fairly well; Scarlet, Smee, Graham, and August got along with her well enough to hold their own. He was worried about several other members of his crew that were decent sailors, but fetid examples of men. He was also worried about how to explain why she was there, and why he suddenly would cut a man down for looking at her wrong.

Emma had no doubt weighed these risks already, finding them preferable odds. That gave him at least a tiny bit of cause for relaxing.

“I told you,” Maggie said as she gathered Emma’s plate from the table. “Congratulations, you just signed yourself up for the hardest battle of your career, Captain. Do you know what you’re in for?”

“Not a clue, but I believe she’s worth it.”

“Good. Let’s get you at least a little prepared.” She sat with her knitting by the fire, gesturing for him to join her in the empty chair across from her. “Bring those books I got you and start reading. If you have any questions, ask.”

Sitting down, he looked at her before letting the question slip out that he dreaded to ask. “Do you think she’ll regret this, Maggie?”

Maggie paused, thinking hard for what felt like an eternity. “I can’t say, because it truly wouldn’t be more than an opinion.” She sighed, and picked up her needles again. “The more important question is asking if you think she will. Because I think in a way, you know her better than she knows herself.”

Maggie’s needles began to click again, and he tried to ignore the way his heart sped up when he saw what she was knitting:

a tiny pair of socks.

#November 1st 2018 #CSBB #CSB 2018 #Captain Swan Big Bang #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan au #CS FF AU #CS FF #CS #Riptide #Courtorderedcake

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valeandfade · 7 years ago

Text

Still Waters : MerMer AU

THE REPOST

So It was super glitchy on the phone app so we split it to try and make it easier to read. we think there was too many words.

Hey guys, take this in honor of MerMay that we didn’t really get to participate in, though we love mermaids (Especially Xell, they’re her favorite). It’s still may Technically so at least we didn’t miss it. This was written a little while ago, but it was fun.

Tell us if you like it!

Word Count: 14846

NOTES: IT IS SUPER SUPER AU. AUs: Mermaid!AU, AlternatePairing!AU

It was written as pure self indulgence and was super fun.

PART ONE

It was dark.

Somehow, Carson hadn’t thought the end would be so dark. He had heard stories, little rumors of what death would be like, the standard ‘bright light at the end of the tunnel’ having embedded the imagery that death would be white, bright and powerful, an eternity stretched out before you as you fell away into it. He pictured it warm, happy, soft…. But as he struggled to breathe, pain rippling over his skin as he struggled to find which way was up, Carson could only describe an abyss that rested before him, all consuming and unforgiving. There was no direction, just endless black that had his mind hazing with ice, his mind freezing in the tundric waters that now created his grave.

The ocean had never been a kind mistress...He should have been more careful.

“Carson! Get away from the edge!”

His Brother’s voice was frightened, the anxiety that was clearly running through his veins laced in his words, a light tilt to his voice that made him look up from the railing of the boat that they had both come to adore, their little run away from the overbearing pressures of human society. It was his mother’s boat, something she had saved up for and bought before she had even met their dad, but she allowed them to take it out to open seas when they wanted to, so long as she didn’t have a trip planned. Ragnar had decided to take it out this weekend, and Carson had to beg him to let him come along, having missed the open ocean, salty winds brushing kisses along his face.

His hands clenched the metal as he leaned back, mismatched eyes on his Brother’s own, his eyes widening as he gripped the wheel of their boat harder.

He smiled, tilting his head, opening his mouth to say something, when the boat rocked suddenly, jerking with some hidden underwater rock edge or a particularly nasty wave, one the would have been expected due to the darkening storm clouds that were circling ahead. Carson felt the boat buckle under him, jerking forward. Not having kept his footing stable, Carson lurched, his body moving, flipping into the dark waters below.

Pain ripped over his mind as his head slammed into something hard, and Carson Watched as his World faded from Blue, to red…. Then black..

But he didn’t sleep for long. His body forced awake as his lungs tried to draw breath, only feeling the heavy set of the salt water around him sliding into his lungs, pressing against his chest to bind his heart, the thud and roar of his own heart beating running through his ears. Everything felt light, but heavy, stuck in one spot with nowhere to go.

‘Shit…’

Carson cursed, his hands finding his throat as he heaved, needing air but his mind not receiving, darker spots of black flashing over the abyss before him. He struggled, but his body was starting to slow its response, limbs heavy, sluggish, the ice in his veins making his whole body ache.

He felt so tired…..

‘I don’t want to…..’

----------

Truthfully? Lochlan Hated this job.

It wasn’t that it was hard. On the contrary, hard labor was tiring, to be sure, but it wasn't anything Lochlan could call difficult. It was simple motions, simple turns and pulls to lift the nearly cripplingly heavy pulls of fish from the ocean, the scent of salt and brine all he could smell and the lingering scent of the still wet cigarettes that clung to him. There was the sound men’s laughter, the ugly cursing of men twice his age calling out vulgarities to each other, to him and his Ever silently friend, Ebbe. Ebbe took it all in stride, ignoring the ribbing of the other men on the ship with a pop of the bubble gum in his mouth, Lochlan acting as mouthpiece and spokesperson for the two newbies on the trip, the only one to say anything back as they ribbed on him.

“Don’t throw out your back, Pretty boys! Get your arms into it! Get your asses moving, the fish ain’t gonna just JUMP ON BOARD!”

“It’d Go a Lot faster with ALL OF US PULLING, JACKMAN!”

Lochlan curses as he momentarily lost his grip, hearing the grunt as Ebbe caught the slack his distraction had cost him. A quick sorry over his shoulder was the only apology that Ebbe would receive, his ears burning as the sun beat down on him and the dark laughter of men who had nothing better to do the bully the newest crew members lingering in his mind, his lips pulling back to let out a growl as he cast a look over to Ebbe, his friends long red hair sticking to his face and back and neck, the beanie he wore doing nothing to help keep the strands hidden….

Though Lochlan could not talk, his own duel colored strands sticking to his neck itching as the sweat rolled down his back.

The others would not help them, testing them, throwing them to the choppy waters to see if the sink or swim. Lochlan knew it, and So did Ebbe, and really, if this job didn’t pay so well, Lochlan would have given up a long time ago, would have told them to go fuck themselves and hidden away until they returned home, their trips never longer than a few days in the off season. Lochlan hated them, the way the underestimated him and the way they seemed to think he was the village fucking idiot and talked to him slowly, to help him understand. Normally he just would roll his eyes and do his job, but today? Today the forecast called for heavy storms and choppy waters, and being out in conditions so ready to become dangerous, and STILL pulling this stupid hazing ritual was irresponsible and stupid on their part. They Were going to lose a whole net just to fucking push them and see how far it too until they broke.

Lochlan would not break.

Things would be so much easier if he could.

As it was the ocean called to him. In what way, he never really could say, but there was a need in him, a pirate’s blood call in his veins made the sea sing to him, her waves soft and whispered lullabies, her currents and riptides calling to him. He needed to be by the ocean, needed to be surrounded by her.

It was why he worked so hard, why he jumped at the chance to work on this boat.

His calling was here, on these waves, in these waters, He just had to find it.

“Why is this so fucking heavy?” Lochlan cursed, yanking again to pull just that little bit more out of the churning waters. He could have swore he heard splashing, like something huge was slapping its tail against the ocean's surface, but eh didn’t dare look up, his focus on pulling this net in before the storm caught them off guard.

He pulled, He yanked and finally, after what felt like a thousand years of nothing but holding the world on his shoulders, there was a final cry, both Ebbe and his body swinging with the effort of pulling the net up and over the boat's railing.

And the world froze, silent, for a moment as Lochlan saw him for the first time.

He was small, smaller than any of the men on board, his skin tan and dusted with freckles along his shoulders face and arms, hints of them along his torso. He sucked in a breath, teeth sharp, and the tail of something far beyond humanity slapped against the wooden surface of the boat.

“What the actual Fuck is that?”

Ebbe’s first words spoken aboard this ship. At any other time it would have caused an uproar, but the words now were only met with silence.

“Someone bring me my radio… Mr. Dhouti is gonna want to hear about this.”

-------------

Dear god, no. This wasn’t going to happen to him. Not now, not when he had so many mistakes to already make up for. He already had so many rules broken, so many errors that had almost cost him and his friends lives. That was why he was out here, to make up for them. To prove that he was still needed in this kingdom of theirs.

He had to prove that he was actually worth the pain that they had to put up with.

Whiskey colored eyes watched the man, horrified, watched as his body slammed against the rocky edge of the mountain. Bile roe in the back of his throat as the man slide through the turbulence. His hands reaching, grasping out only to find nothing to save him, no one to see the man struggle to survive underneath the power of the currents. But he was valiant in his efforts, a trait that Echo could only applaud. A trait that Echo himself wished he had possessed more than once. But here was this human, ditching all of his energy to try a perceiver for the air that was only feet away from the flailing man.

There was no way, no way to save him without being cast out, if anyone found out. But the fear he felt jerking his heart to his throat was real, it was dangerous and turned the man’s vision hazy as he swam closer to the fighting human.His eyes never leaving the man, instead focused, trained to the spot where the man thrashed.

Twice. Twice!

The man almost had the surface his fingertips only inches away from the breaking point between air and water. Echo could hear his lungs screaming out for mercy, could hear the man’s heart racing relentlessly to win against the pain that must have been wracking his body at this point.

‘Fight…. Fight it!’

Fingernails grazed the inside of Echo’s palms, bitting heavier and heavier as he saw the fight slowly dying in the darklings eyes. His body slumping, the thrashes turning less and less aggressive as he sank. It was over, he was giving up. He was dying.

‘No. No. No… Oh,.... nonoonononononono!”

Echo could feel his body lurching forward, his arms already extending to try and wrap the darkling into him before he could even contemplate the situation. His hands moving on his own as tanned finger wrapped around the man’s chest, forcing him out of the murky darks of the water, he was light under the water, his body pressed too tightly against the warmth of his own chest. He didn’t have much time, his body forced the two through the surface, only for Echo to gasp, his lungs filling with oxygen. His fingers pressed the boy nose together, just as he had watched others do on the shore lines, and he pressed his lips to the boys mouth as they found the soft sand of the shores, his lips forcing the darklings apart so that he could do what he could only assume was right.

--------------

”Ethan, get it, my arms stuck…. Ethan! ITs stuck stop looking stupid and get over here and help me! ...Now!”

Panic was setting in, actual living fear was welling into his chest as he thrashed, his tail whipping under the currents that would have usually been calm. But there was a boat, far from the humans territory, there net wrapping bits of his arm into the thickly draw rope. Logically he knew. He needed to calm down, he knew that panic was no way to get out of here. To get out of the net he was going to have to have some sort of focus on the appendage and the net that was tangled around his scales.

“You have to calm down Ridley. Ridley! Calm down. I can’t help you f you’re thrashing around like that.”

But no matter how many time he thought to calm himself, no matter how many times he opened his mouth to take that calming breath, he found the terror was only sinking in. Even as pale fingers ripped away at the net from his arms his tail still swung, his body still yanked out trying to pull himself from the net. A motion he would regret as his tail jerked, only to find the net tangled into the briny ropes.

“Fuck! Fuck, COME ON RIDLEY STAY THE HELL STILL!”

Genuine fear gripped him, tore a hole into him as his eyes widened, his body trembled as Ethan yanked at the ropes, none of them seemed to come lose, none of them budged as he gripped each yanking and manoeuvring to get the ropes un-entwined. But nothing seemed to work. But he could see Ethan's eyes widen as a cran began, giant floodlights filling their vision. But Ridley had to give it to him. Ethan didn’t let go, instead his body pushed against Ridley trying to land some kind of force as he yanked at the ropes more viciously.

“Swim down Ridley! Swim down!”

He could only listen, his head nodding even as he began to shift, to try and power through the fishing net that was cast around him. Ethan grappled onto Ridleys free arm forcing the net down with himself. But it was to no avail. The lining to strong, and the fishers almost even stronger. The gasp that left him as Ethan's fingers slid off was appalling to say the least, his mouth opening to scream for those fingers that were outreached for him.

“Ethan!”

The air was cold, almost freezing against his skin, the wind almost blistering as the fresh night air plummeted against his exposed skin. But it distracted him briefly from the shock, from the hard floor hitting him, the net draping itself over his body, pressing him harshly into the woodend halt of the small fishing boat. Small finger reached yanking at the ropes as the eyes caught onto him, human eyes. They were every where, surrounding him in a small cluster.

He shook, his eyes wide as he took in each face. Their words played through his ears, but the meaning never hit. Their actions were those of confused children, the lot of them only gathering as one or two spoke. His escape was only inches away, the edge. He only needed to get the edge, even if he could only drop off with the net, at least Ethan could help him escape the cage he seemed to find himself in.

Small fingers inched quietly for a second, two, maybe, before he was bolting, using the end of his tail to push off the floor of the boat, his fingers gripping the ridge. Freedom was only a mere feet away.

“Ethan!”

----------

Carson didn't want to die.

Sure, there were moments, times when he thought otherwise, but in the moment, the moment that Death circled around him like the jaws of the beast, claws raking over his body, Carson found that he did not wish to die. He didn’t want this to be the end, didn’t want to live on ninteen years of his life before it was thrown away to the sea, another victim, another statistic that would push people away from the oceans and her beauty. He didn’t want to sink into her depth, didn’t want to be the reason Ragnar never went to sea again, because he knew, his brother would never forgive himself for allow this to happen on his watch. He was a freshman in College, had a future ahead of him that he wanted to see, scholarships and nights on the ocean he still wanted to enjoy...

But he wouldn’t get to. Because the sea had claimed him.

Carson didn’t want to die.

There was a strange feeling, a warmth that circled around him as he closed his eyes sluggishly, the darkness almost completely taking over his vision as he felt his heart starting to slow. There was a pressure, another bind about his chest as something spun around his head, a whooshing feeling threading through his mind as he felt his body drift. That darkness was still there, darkness that clung to him even as a warm solid feeling settled under him, an icy rush over him all he could feel.

That warmth was still there, still about his shoulders and grazing over his face before he felt something, a rush of air sliding through his body to push into waterlogged lungs. Carson felt it, once, twice, three times, before he suddenly jerked, his body forcing the water back up past his lips, burning as it force itself from his mouth, his nose, making the dark haired boy purge his body, turning to allow all the water and bile to fall onto the sands next to him. Had he died? The thought shot through his mind, and Carson decided that if this was dying, then dying really, REALLY sucked, and Hell looked a whole lot like home.

His whole body ached, his head throbbing as he tried to open his eyes, hand moving to lift up to his head, feeling pain explode behind his eyes he felt the gash on the back of his head, sand clinging to blood as he grazed fingertips over it. He still felt pain, so that was a good sign.

Carson sat up, only to let out a painful gasp as his head spun, pain throbbing enough to make him slip,slumping over as his hands reached up…. Only to land on something soft and wet, something that felt warm to the touch but strangely cold. Carson’s eyes finally opened, duel colored gaze holding nothing but confusion as he took in the sight before him.

The man Couldn’t have been any older than he was, his eyes wide, cognac colored with hints of red in the cinnamon brown. His gaze was on him, looking at him like one would look at a growling dog, all strangely hesitant and cautious. His skin was tan, blond locks falling to stick to his face, and it was only when he shifted that the light gleamed of the expanse of scales that created a long tail that resembled the legends he had read about when he was young, his mother's words filling his mind.

Mermaids, Carson… The Ocean is Deep, and she is vast. She gives no secrets willingly, and so no one can say for sure if they truly exist…

The kind of words used for children’s fairytales, to make them believe just that little longer. Carson could not say that he believed in Fairy tales anymore, but what eh could say, without a shred of doubt...Carson could say eh was…. Easily the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen.

He stared a moment, before his hand lifted, slowly, hesitantly, the worry that if he blinked this creature would be gone and left to his memories, a vision he would never be able to replicate. Was he real? He didn’t know. He didn’t seem real, mythic and strangely enchanting, beyond human.. His hand moved, hovered over his cheek, before he grazed his skin, a sharp gasp hitching his breath as he ran a fingertip over his cheek, his lips.

“Who are you?”

Carson asked. He had to be real…. Carson’s imagination was good, but he was sure he could never fantasize about a feeling so vividly.

“Did… You save me? Fuck…” Carson cursed as his head pounded again, looking away from the man to close his eye against the light shining off the waves.

“Where am I?”

---------------

Humans were vile, disturbing and blatant in their disrespect and their cruelty towards ocean life. They were selfish and wild. Unpredictable some said.

But if this wasn’t the most interesting human he had ever laid his eyes on.

A beauty that the gods and goddesses would praise for a millenia. And those eyes, god those eyes were ensnaring as they took him in. Echo swallowed around the boulder building in his throat, his fingers digging into the soft sand as the waves lapped against his tail. Something he should have been trying to avoid being seen.

But how could he just leave when he wasn’t even sure if the human was okay? All the work with no pay off? He thought not.

Echo watched, fascinated as the human stirred, his gaze unflinching as the darkling turned himself over, and it only seemed to grow more intense in his stare as the human turned those multi colored eyes to him. Locked him into place, when he knew he should have moved. Forced him to captured in the lights filling up behind those once dying eyes. There was something of marvel, something of wonder as he moved slightly to take in Echo. But there he was captured, entangled in the human that sat out beside him.

Cool air whipped around wet blonde tendrils of his hair, taned fingers movved to brush them back only to catch the darklings hand come up, his words slipping past to part those lips. Words he should not have been able to understand, words that were forbidden under the waves of the ocean. Words that once learned could earn a man’s death.

But he knew them. And he knew them well now, the simple brush of their lips together entwining the knowledge of this humans language into his veins. Pouring sickly sweet into him as he felt the smooth skin of the darkling brush over his freckled cheeks, over his lips.

There was a small shift in him, a skipped heart small, smoldering at the motion. A simple touch that had Echo concentrating much to hard to focus on the boys words, at least until the boy jerked. His hand coming up to his head in a jarring motion.

“Echo. Echo is my name. And yes, i did. No need to thank me.”

Echo’s heart snatched as he watched the darkling move backward, the words continuing to pour out of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you humans call this, we call it the End. Where the land reaches much too high for any of us to wander.”

There was a silence as he watched the boy writhed, and Echo shifted, digging his fingers into the small pouch that clung to his hip , digging for the small pocket of Salve he carried in the pockets. His other hand moved out, forcing the boy's neck to the side to let the bleeding gash hit the open air. Echo’s eyes narrowed on the cut, fingers trying to move the debris that seemed locked into his locks.

“This is going to hurt. But stay still for me a moment.”

The oiled substance stuck between his fingers as he pressed the tips of his fingers against the gash, smoothing the small amount into the wound. It would burn, it would sting the wound beyond any type of mercy but it would work. Help the blood clot and start to close the wound. The man would be able to be up and moving at any point,

at a point that he knew he should be far away as possible by then.

“It should start to take effect relatively soon. It is better to feel this type of pain rather than be dead i suppose.”

--------------------

“LOCHLAN! GRAB IT!”

The captain’s words shot out like gunfire, snapping lochlan from his trance at seeing something so strange. His body moved before he even really realized he had listened, the entirety of his 6’4 frame moving to push off against the slippery deck, his hands finding the body of the half man, half fish like creature. He practically tackled him, sliding along the floor to grab hold of his arm, his eyes widening as he spotted his other tangled up in the rope of the net he had just pulled up.

‘That explains why it was so heavy.’ Lochlan mused for all of a moment, feeling the slap as the boy struggled under him, his tail slapping against his jacket covered back, a grunt pulling from his lips as he wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up as he rolled onto his back and forced them up, his breath heavy as he looked down at the man in his arms being held down by the weight of Lochlan and the tangle of the net.

“Calm down, I don’t want to hurt you!” He could hear himself saying, not really knowing if he could understand him, but choosing to try anyway. The boy wasn’t really that much trouble when he was subdued, his strength impressive by with the adrenaline running through his veins and the hours he had spent on this ship, in the gym training for this trip and for the team he had found himself on in highschool, Lochlan found he didn’t even feel it as the boy battered against him, though eh had the feeling it was going to leave some serious bruises.

“Take It to the Cargo Hold, any of you!…. I gotta get Mr. Dhouti on the phone…”

The captain mumbled his words after that choosing to turn on heel and head back toward the captain’s quarters, stopping just enough to turn to the rest of the baffled crew and snap his next orders. He looked stressed, his fingers cracking as they clenched and uncurled. The darkness of the clouds was starting to settle in, the storm approaching, and Lochlan had to wonder if he would die on this boat.

It was looking like a pretty big possibility.

“DROP ANCHOR HERE! I’m not leaving this spot until I get a hold of The Senator, so you all can quit your bitching and rest like the princess fucks you are.”

Then he was gone, returning to his quarters, and leaving them to fend for themselves.

Fucking asshole.

“Alright, Come on, Captain’s orders…” The voice of Crane, a man in his mid fifties with salt and pepper hair moved forward, his voice gruff and straight, like sand had worn at his vocal cords. He was like an alcoholic father figure that didn’t know how to stop making creep vulgar comments, but mostly harmless. That didn’t show as He shifted, picking up the boy roughly, mostly by the net to throw him over his shoulder, not seeming to care that the position looked like it would hurt.

“Stop! You’re gonna hurt him!”

Crane ignored him, just disappeared into the cargo hold.

“This whole boat is full of assholes…. Whatever, let’s just do what eh says and try and settle in…”

That didn’t prove to be easy. Once the Anchor was dropped, everyone pretty much settled in for the night. Crane and Jacob set up their cards, Ebbe had returned to his own little room to read the book he had brought along with him, a large thick tome in some sort of ancient language. The rest were milling about, but Lochlan returned to the boat’s deck, ignoring the clouds as he looked out to the ocean, watching her waves crack against the boat but held himself steady.

It was a stupid man who did not keep his footing at all times on a boat.

“You’re worried about it, aren’t you?”

Ebbe’s voice shot out, making the blonde and brunette bounce and jump, his gaze snapping back toward the redhead whose gaze matched the clouds above. He blinked, opening his mouth to say something but the words were halted by Ebbe again, who rolled his eyes at him.

“Just go check on him. You’re too nice…. You’ll make yourself sick again with worry, so just check on the thing…”

Ebbe shifted, leaning on the rails next to him.

“Just bring your knife with you.”

“I already have it….” Lochlan said as he moved, leaving his spot to head toward the hold.

He could have swore he heard him call him a bitch, but if it was from Ebbe, he probably didn’t mean it.

Lochlan creeped down the stairs, blinking into the dark as he looked around. His hand fell to his pocket fingering the pocket knife. The light was dim as he pulled the chain, illuminating the room to reveal scores of tools and weapons, nets and hooks, and in the middle of it all, tied to a support beam, was the creature.

“Hey… Hey… can you talk?” He asked as he moved closer, crouching down low, fingertips against the ground. He was close, close enough to smell the sea on him, Lochlan’s eyes flickering over him to see if he was wounded

“Are you hurt?”

---------

All the legends were true, all of the myths and lores he grew up on, thinking they were just trying to make a species so monstrous that none of them dared approach, were in fact real. The cruelty that laid in these creatures was black and lifeless, soulless. And he would not doubt it if they bleed black and grew horn in the middle of the night.

They were not creatures to be reckoned with. And his mistake would never be rectified, would only be fully understood after his death at the hands of these…. Monsters of the land. They ignored him, stopped his only attempt at leaving and moved him too far away from any possible escape now.

He was lost now. His fate would have to be simply accepted.

They were rough, fingers tightening on his skin with bruising forces. He tried, tried to call out to them, tried to beg with everything he could offer, bribe the humans. But not one of the men batted their eyes even the old guy that dropped him with a thump onto the ground seemed uninterested in his words.

Not that they could understand Ridley. He knew that. Knew that his words were coming out in chirps and gruffs that their ears could barely audibly pick up. Knew that they would only hear them if they concentrated hard enough, and knew that truly none of them had any interest in what he had to say at this point. He was only a pawn now. Could only be valued after his death took place.

“Sir, please…. Please… hold on… Sir!”

He called after the old man as he stood, his eyes looking over the ropes and net that tangled him, making sure that the work he had done was well. If Ridley had a say in it, the man had done too well. The ropes cutting into delicate flesh and scales as he bunched his tail as close to him as possible. Trying for the life to him look as small as he could. It wasn’t until the light shifted, flickering before turning completely out that dread wrapped itself around him.

It was cold, the air frosting over his skin as the wind whirled and whipped against the boat, the wooden structure creaking and groaning in the silence of the blackened room around him. It was heart wrenching, the cry that ripped apart his lips, Ridley could feel the tears stinging behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not to these humans, not to the absolute filth that inhabited this boat.

But for his brothers he would, for Ethan he would, for the life he knew was getting ripped away from him, he would. Another sob parted his lips, ripped through the silence he was trying to hold. His fingers clenching at his hips as he sunk deeper into this heart ache that was gripping him so heavily.

Until the lights flickered, the sound of foot steps accompanying the light that flooded the wooden floor. Ridley tried to move, to squirm into himself, to look away from the man as he bent over in front of him, his words ringing to unaccustomed ears. Ridley flexed, his fins shifting and widening, as the man spoke, his ears lifting to frill the fins that laid attached to them, as if this would help him understand the man in front of him.

“Don’t leave me down here… please.”

He knew the words would fall on deaf ears, knew that it would do nothing to beg for this man help. But he could try, could try to somehow get across to him. And he shifted trying to lean in closer to the man as he spoke. The chips poured from his lips, whines and gruffs trying to explain himself out of the situation desperately.

“Let me go home… I’m scared.”

------------------

The moment he spoke, Carson was ensnared, his head snapping back up to take him in again for a moment before the pain hit him again suddenly, achingly desperate to make it’s presence known that it slammed against his temples, pulsed behind his eyes and made alarm ring off in his head. His voice was soothing, the calming hint of the waves hidden in that voice, a pull like no other, practically a song in it’s own right. Carson couldn’t remember a time that he had thought so highly of a voice that had said something so flippant and carefree, like it was nothing, that he wasn’t a creature conjured up from the depths of his imagination.

But he was. There was no denying that, bit as the sun glinted off scales in luminescent colors, like the light shining off a puddle of oil. This man, Echo, Echo was something he had never dreamed of seeing, long having left fantasy on the shelf as he picked up textbook after textbook to follow in his father’s footsteps, all while ignoring the call of the ocean just outside of his home.

“I do need to thank you. I Thought… I thought I was gonna…” the words faded away, unable to voice what he had though, the truth he had almost accepted. There was a moment, before Echo spoke up again, moving on, But Carson would not forget.

Echo spoke, his words soft, and Carson could feel it as he mouth the words that the blond had just said, before the dots connect, his mind much too distracted by the freckles dusting over Echo’s face, the strange accessories he wore.

“We call this the Shore… or the beach. We’re closer toward the bay, if I can guess correctly.” The last words were mostly to himself, a mutter that was almost inaudible with his accent lining his words. His thoughts wavered, spilled over as he thought, and suddenly he felt hands on him, moving his hair out of the way, fingers threading through his hair to pull a shiver down his spine. He liked it, the feeling of his hands on him, and carson leaned into the touch, his eyes hooded but his gaze flickering through dark lashes to look at what he could of the blond, not wanting to take his eyes off him.

“Echo, what are you…?”

He didn’t get to say much else, as for the second time that dayl, pain exploded behind his eyes, lights flashing in his veion as the back of his head felt like it had been bashed in with a bat. He cried out, hands moving as he fell forward, his eyes squeezing shut as he let the pain run through him. It was fine, he thought, forced himself to think over the pain, small droplets welling in his eyes as he sucked in another breath.

He had dealt with worse.

“Ow… FUCK me… That hurts… what’s in that stuff, Glass?”

The words came out accented, thick with his native tongue as he hissed in displeasure, but true to his word, the pain started to fade, dimming away to something almost manageable. Carson’s hand moved, to trace over the gap, one that while still tender was now healing, and quickly. He could already feel the itch of scabs starting to form.

“Holy shi-”

“I have to go.”

Echo voice pulled him from his mind once again, and even if he wanted to eh could not keep the look of shock and disappointment from crossing over his features. He moved, his hand reaching out to grab Echo’s who looked down at their hands in what looked like shock or confusion. Carson didn’t care.

“Wait, I-”

“I have to go.” Echo repeated, and pulled his hand away. Carson Panic, watching as the man moved, sliding along the soft sands to pull himself into the waves, and before he lowered his head underwater, Carson moved, leaning forward.

“Carson! My name is Carson Dhouti! Thank you!”

And he was gone, and Carson was left alone, nothing but waves and seagulls calling to him.

--------------------

“Woah, Hey, Hold on, I can’t…”

Lochlan could see he was trying, Trying to speak, to say something, but the words were lost to him, ears too human, to foreign to truly understand what it was this boy was saying. They Were pretty, little chips and grunts and tilts that sounded something like a song, though he knew that this boy had no reason for singing as he was tied up, ripped from his home. His expressions flickered over his face freely, the tinge of desperation that lined his features made Lochlan’s heart clench tightly, his hand moving from out of his pocket as his hands came up, to lift and brush over his shoulders.

His heart hammered in his chest, seeing him like this bothered him, deeply. He could see he was afraid, could see the fear in his eyes as he tried to speak, tried to get his point across but could not.

“Calm down… I can’t understand you… Shit this would be so much easier if I was like Ebbe and could pick up twenty thousand other languages for fun…..”

Lochlan cursed his brain, not the first time and most certainly not the last. He wished he was book smart, Like Ebbe, like Carson, the kind of guy who had studied for fun and knew the answer to everything. As it was, Lochlan had hardly made it through school with his scholarships, his grade a product of work and long nights killing himself for not understanding simple questions. It would be helpful now, but all the wishing in the world did not change what was.

This boy was scared. He was terrified and had no one to help him. Hell, he had been thrown here without so much as a courtesy light, and a temper he tried to keep down flared brightly.

“Shh… It’s okay…” lochlan cooed, his lids lowering as his eyes hooded, his hands moving to brush over his cheeks , through his hair to sooth him in all the little ways that helped him. He settled, sitting his butt down on the cold floor, the rocking of the boat getting harder as he pulled the boy into his lap. His hand reached for his pocket again, pulling out the knife that started the man in his hands, making Lochlan wrap him in his arms to settle him down again. He spoke softly against his skin, his cheek, his temple, his neck, fingers tracing patterns over him in familiar ways, soothing him.

“Just the net… I’m gonna get you out of the net.” He pointed to the rope, his gaze locked on it as he moved slowly, pick up the trapped arm with a gentle touch, the blade finding the ropes to cut through them. It was a meticulous task, one that slowly made his arms burn with the weight of holding him close and working slowly through the ropes, until he was finally free, remnants resting on the floor around them like littered scales. Lochlan place the knife down, shifting so that eh could lift his hands in front of them both, turning them slowly.

“There. I’m done. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, I don’t know how to help.”

He wanted to help. That was the thing. Lochlan wanted to help, wanted to say something, anything, to make that look of fear go away. But this was all he could do, all he could hope to do without understanding him. Lochlan’s hands ran through the man’s hair, blond locks and a red brown gaze that locked the older man in place. He held him, soothing over him with words that he hoped he at least understood the meaning, his hands running through hair and along his spine. He breathed stories to him, kept him safe as the boat rocked with the storm and the light shut off again.

Lochlan did not leave until they had docked, and he did not let go until the man was pulled from his hands.

Lochlan was given a bonus and told not to speak of it.

Lochlan had not slept well either, the sight of his face as he was being pulled away haunting his dreams.

He had to see him again.

He had to.

------------

It was world altering, a moment he would probably not forget for years to come. His fingers were still warm from the human's touch,... from Carson's touch. The look that he was giving Echo still gleaming even as he turned back to look through the ocean waters at the darkling that sat lost at shore.

He would find his way. What mattered, what truly mattered was that the human was safe, he was alive and breathing in the cool air into his lungs instead of the ocean water. Something Echo had learned through watching many humans, something he had witnessed first hand. It was simple, they breathed their air, their form oxygen and Echo breathed both.

The humans didn’t function on the same level, and took Echo seeing the marvel for himself to truly believe the words that his dad had spoke to him. Words of warning and those words were meant to scare them, him and his brothers. Meant to strike some kind of fear into the heart of the blonde boys that surrounded their father as he sung his praises of being mermaids. The praises of well they had it down here, how well they had all done to conceal their presents to humans for centuries.

And they were doing so well, until Echo had fucked it up. Unable to listen to the rules of their society. The number one being, leave the humans to their own. To never interact and to make sure that they never saw them. Was never able to lay eyes on a tail or fin. Or scales, anything of the sort. Anything that the greedy humans could deem as valuable.

But this human seemed thankful, truly. His interest lying in only the unknown of Echo and what could a human with no real way to find him do? Nothing that Echo could take too seriously. But he was alluring in his own way, the human boy Carson. His eyes haunting him even to this moment, those eyes that stuck to him so well. Even though Echo knew without a doubt that he may have been the one staring. A little too much, but a human up close was so different. Their reaction unexpected and reality unlike anything he had ever felt.

Echo could feel the smile pulling at his lips, offering what could only be described as a crooked smile.

“ECHO! THEY HAVE RIDLEY! THAT BOAT! IT TOOK HIM, IT TOOK HIM!”

The voice caused Echo to flinch to pulled so quickly out of his thoughts it was almost alarming. But small hand were yanking on his flesh as the words were bellowed. Distress etching every inch of Ethan's small frame. It was his brother's name though that caught him, that snapped his attention and forced Echo forward, his arms finding either one of Ethan’s biceps, pulling him close.

“What do you mean it took him? Ethan?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT TOOK HIM!?”

Echo could see the sheer grief over Ethan’s expression even as he got shook ruthlessly.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ETHAN?!”

------------

He should have been used to it, to the blistering cold and the wild winds that seemed to surround him by now. Should not have expected any sort of treatment besides this from the dastardly humans. Only a few had been allowed in, ogling at the what he could only imagined they called ‘fish-boy’. Hell, he would have called himself that,.... If he still had a fin or tail. Instead he had dried out, his skin losing it sheen as the cold air took away every drop that had previously clung to his flesh. Now in his tails place was what the humans called legs, sprouting but unmoving as he shifted uncomfortably in this new form of his.

Which had initially surprised him, scared him even further. He felt lost. Too far away from home as he sat in the cell, his back pressed into his corner and his legs shaking against his chest.

They were trying, he could say that, all pretty smiles and words of silk and honey. Not that that mattered. He didn’t respond instead trying to force himself smaller in his cage. They brought him squares of fluff, which he could only eyeball wildly. Was it supposed to be a comfort in the human world? A square of puffed fluff. The humans had given him dish after dish, trying to coax Ridley. Trying to force feed him until his teeth had found one of the men’s fingers. It was the last time one of them had walked into help him. The last time any of them had made attempts to calm the raging Langdon.

The only remnant he had now of his heritage was the scales that littered his skin, small splotches of ‘freckles’ and the fins that protected his ears so well. He knew he looked other worldly to the lot of them. Knew that most of them were only interested in the part of him that wasn’t ‘human’. But the truth behind it was, he wasn’t. He was a mermaid. A creature of fable and legends on dry land.

But his surprise only happened days after being there, his ears straining to hear the whispered words that echoed outside of the cell walls. But what he caught meant nothing to happen, instead only confusing him further. It was a woman's voice, soothing and caressing. Almost insuring as she spoke her words. But a man’s snapped back, firm in his resolution but yielding to her as she spoke, stopping to allow her to explain.

There was a silence before the man spoke again, this times his words brief. The tone defeated, he could almost visibly see arms getting thrown up over the situation.

Once more the woman spoke out, her words all the more loving, all the more soothing as she insured him.

But then the doors creaked open. And Ridley threw a glance over the tops of his knees to the dark haired woman. Her multi colored eyes on him, shining as she bent down outside the cell. Her forearms coming up to catch onto her thighs.

“Hello,... My name is Arber. Arber Dhouti. And i am going to need you to speak to me.”

Ridley marveled for a moment, his whole world spinning as the woman spoke, the words clear as day to him. He could feel himself getting pulled, the knees dropping as his mouth went slack all at once. His confusion clearly painted across his features as the woman spoke.

“That right there.”

Her hand moved suddenly, her finger pointed to the square of fluff laid out beside him. But her eyes remained on him.

“It’s a blanket. The humans use them to keep warm. It goes around your shoulders. Or over your legs…..”

Ridley was still reeling, but his fingers moved, reaching out for the square in almost a trance with the woman in front of him. Pulling the cold bundle over his bare legs, but he didn’t dare break eye contact. Not with this woman. Not to the only one he could understand.

“What is your name, Nekmit?”

The familiar endearment struck him odd, and only fascinated him further. He was almost afraid to answer her, afraid that the woman would turn away if she got what she wanted, but she wore a smile, one that almost seemed genuine. She seemed to care for the small boy in the cage and he couldn't deny her what she wanted, not when she used that voice so heavenly sweet to call to him.

“It’s Ridley. Ridley Langdon.”

“OH! You’re a Langdon son. It explains a lot about your stubborn nature you seem to harbor.”

There was a small chuckle in her voice as she spoke to him, her fingers coming up to brush against her lips. It took a second but finally the woman sat, her bottom hitting the floor with a small thump.

“You know the rules that are set underneath? They are set for a reason my dear, Ridley. Why would you get so close to the humans?”

“.....Who are you?”

He couldn’t help it, now when the woman, Arber Dhouti spoke to him so calmly, so fluently. Her eyes kind and her tone even kinder. Though she wasn’t the one she was hoping for he took the company with ride, through the confusion was beginning to become somewhat of a problem as she shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s best if we move on from this subject, Ridley. Just know, my name is Arber. I’m here to help you. No one else is going to hurt you. It is something i can promise.”

“Are you going to let me go?”

“......No. unfortunately. The rules are setting you in dangerous ways if you go back. Me and you both know that. We are finding other methods of… release. Somewhat. But the ocean is lost to you now, Nekmit. There is no returning.”

-------------------

Carson’s return home was loud, full of sobs and hugs and worried glanced over shoulders, his mother's and his father’s arms around him as they pulled him close, their murmurings of how they had been so scared, how they had thought they lost him to the sea whispering over his hearing. His mother had refused to let him go, and his father brushed tears off his face with the back of his expensive suit, Ragnar practically sobbing for forgiveness at almost killing him. It had taken a while, that was sure, to soothe them all, to tell them he was just tired and achy from his tumble in the underwater rivers, that he just wanted to rest. His mother insisted he sleep with her that night, had insisted he share the bed with his parents like he was four again and scared of the dark.

But it soothed her, and If His mom was happy he wouldn’t have to hear it from his dad.

They hovered over him, watching him like he might fall right back into the ocean, but Carson did not care, could not really find it in him to be bothered by such things. As it was, His mind had been consumed, absolutely enthralled with finding each and every bit of information he could on Mermaids.

Days had passed since he had least seen Echo, days that had seen Carson pouring over books to glean even the slightest bit of information, and night spent staring at the moon as he listened to the waves just outside his home, listening as his dad rambled about the biggest scandal to hit their town since his father had chosen to marry his mother. He listened to the waves, the birds as they called, and he remembered the little look of shock as he grabbed his hand and the way he had seemed to carefree, the cute little smile that was not really a smile at all. Days had passed, but Carson found he could not get the beautiful man out of his head, could not stop longing for his voice to drift up with the waves below him, and night where he should have been sleeping were spent hoping, wishing …. And remembering.

His mother had told him so many stories when he was young, and never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would become so enthralled by something as fanciful as Mermaids, But as it was, it seemed the fates had other plans for him, as not even an hour after his return home, his father received an important call. He could remember his dad trying to brush it off, but in the end, he had been forced to leave and see to the matter, something that, at the time, Carson had thought nothing of.

His father was a busy man, someone looked up to, a man people told first without pause. He ran this city, this town, this state, and nothing happened without his say so, especially not here in their pleasant little mountain beach home.

But when he returned home, his father seemed…. Spooked, shook like he had seen the depths of hell and the creatures that dwelled there. It had taken some persuading, but eh had finally got it out of him.

Some fishermen had found something. Something unexplainable.

Carson, later that night, met the second Mermaid he had ever seen in his life.

It wasn’t Echo. There was a shock as he took in the man behind the bars, the man much smaller than the blond he had seen but barring a very close resemblance to him. Carson hadn’t expected the fates to deliver Echo back to him so easily, if at all, but it had been… a spark of hope, a gleam of a wish. It was crushed as he took him in, but he still watched him with interest, his one way to possibly know more about Echo if he could just get him alone.

There was only so much that Carson would do in one day. He was ushered out before he could even talk to him.

Thus why he was so excited for this morning.

Today, He got to see the mermaid again.

He wasn’t paying attention as he was walking. That much was obvious as he was taken by surprise, grabbed roughly and suddenly. He was on his way to his bike when he was stopped, the feeling of a hand on his bicep making him jump as he blinked, his body being slammed against the wall as a very frustrated looking Lochlan glared up at him with a snarl on his lips. Carson blinked, breathing in as Lochlan stared at him, waiting for him to get on with what eh wanted.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Take me with you.”

The words were clipped, short, hurried and irritated. Knowing that no one was supposed to know about it, Carson pulled a face of ignorance, blinking as he tilted his head to the side.

“What?”

“Don’t play DUMB, Carson, the boy, the one that I pulled up from out of the ocean, and left to be poked and prodded by the scientists. The mermaid. Take. Me. to. Him.”

The words hit him oddly, a low soft sound of anger drifting over him as he took in the unhinging man. Normally, Carson would say no, laugh at him, but something in him make him reconsider. Maybe it was the way Lochlan looked so distressed, the usually calm boy frustrated beyond all belief. Lochlan was kind, soft, the sweet summer child kind of boy to Carson’s jagged winters. It must be important to him to demand it in this way.

“You pulled him up? Where? How, what did he say?” the question flew past his lips as he raced to get his car keys, practically running to the car, only matched by Lochlan’s pace. They rode together conversation flowing as he asked questions, though the answers only made him more curious.

No one could understand this boy, but with Echo he could perfectly understand him. Echo spoke fluent English, not a sign of a foreigner's tongue on the words. Why could this one not?

“I have to see him again. I fucked up, Car. I shouldn’t have kept him on that boat.”

Carson’s gaze glided over to the man sitting before him, snapping back to the building that was just starting to loom.

“You did the right thing. This is an important discovery.” The words were empty, repeated from his father’s advisors. Lochlan didn’t look at him, looking out of the window as they drove into the garage to park, descended into darkness as he finally spoke up.

“Could you have done it? If You had seen him?”

Instantly, Echo’s face popped up, fresh, vivid in his mind.His smile, the look of shock…. And then the boy’s dead expression as he had seen him last. Could have seen that face on Echo and the knowledge he had done it to him, could he have lived with that?

Carson had no answer for that.

---------------------

Lochlan wasn’t used to this sort of establishment, did not belong here, and it showed the instant that he walked through those doors.

There wasn’t many people around, only a secretary at the front desk that paled as she saw Carson walk in, her hands crinkling the paper she held as she watched the darkling moved. Lochlan could admit, even as his friend and a close one at that, that Carson was an intimidating sort of guy, the kind that seemed to have a switch in him that went off at the slightest bit of inclination that he might be underestimated. There was something about him, something in him that radiated leadership and demanded respect, made you want to follow his commands, a fear engraved in you even though he had never so much as rose his voice in your presence. You listened to him. And it only helped that his dad was practically the king of their little town, it’s inhabitants following him blindly, without protest.

Such devotion to his father had bled to his son, and Even now, Carson walked like he owned the building, breezing past the secretary without so much as even a glance, the juxtaposition between his awkward wave, stumble over his own two feet and nearly silently ‘Sorry’ more blaring than a siren.

Carson seemed like he was born for this, Born to get and do what he wanted, when he wanted, for no other reason other then he wanted it.Meanwhile, Lochlan had to hope he got lucky and someone took pity on him, or he had to work his fingers to the bone to get a suitable substitute.

Not this time.

The thought was harsh, glaring against the usual nerves that flooded his mind when he was in places like this, Expensive and rich and clearly not made for a fisherman to walk through it’s halls. He gave Carson Credit, taking him here with only the smallest of explanation, but as he delved deeper into the twists and turns of the labyrinth that called itself a lab, Lochlan couldn’t help but feel like maybe he had made a mistake in rushing over to the Dhouti household, had been rash in his instance that Carson took him with him. He didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong in this place. What would he even say to him when he saw him, considering he couldn’t understand him and he couldn’t tell him how sorry he was he had gotten him into this mess. Lochlan knew it was rash, it was irrational that he had stormed here, But the memory of his face, that expression over his features as the pulled him from his hands….

It haunted him, and Lochlan had this need, this urge, to see him again, To fix something beyond his reach...

But now that it was in front of him, what was he supposed to fucking do? What could he do?

Lochlan could only guess.

The doors opened before him, a bright light stinging his eyes as they stepped from the dimmer hallways and into the darker room, light spilling from what Lochlan could only assume was a one way window into the cell that they had placed the boy in. Dark brown eyes narrowed as he lifted his hand, the sound of a sudden gasp slipping past Carson making his gaze snap from the overly bright window to the figure leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, glare locked on the window like it had personally insulted him.

“Dad!”

If Lochlan had thought Carson was intimidating, Soven Dhouti was absolutely terrifying. He was the exact picture of what he assumed a senator to be, the exact image that his mind created when he thought of the world leader. Soven was more than just a Senator, he practically ran this town, the owner of multiple companies and the father of one of his best friends. More often than not, you would find him in suits, hair slicked back or hidden away, clean cut and absolutely lethal. Now, however, it seemed he couldn’t have been bothered with appearance, clad in his white t-shirt and a pair of ragged jeans and boots. He would have looked like he belonged on the cover of some sort of fan service magazine for women if it wasn’t for the very palpable anger that was radiating off of him in heated waves.

Lochlan fell behind as Carson smiled, walking up to the imposing man.

Carson seemed to have a birth defect that made him lose his sense of fear and self preservation.The man stood at 6’7, towering over most, a trait he had given to his sons in spades, which only added to the imposing air he already had.. He was blond, platinum blond falling over his eyes as he glared, his eyes narrowing as Carson walked in, speckled blue green and brown drifting over to his black haired son, the look on his face softening immensely before he looked back again at the sight in the cell, his stance never moving.

“What’s going on?” Carson never sounded more like a child then when he was talking to his parents, all curious tones and absolute trust. Soven sighed, dropping his hands to his side before lifting them in what could only be described as irritated acceptance.

“Your Mother wanted to talk to him, and she wouldn’t let it go. I tried talking her out of it, but she’s hard headed, like someone else I know.” Lochlan watched, amazed as Soven smiled and teased his son, pulling on his cheeks and earning a laugh from his friend. The blond man watched him with adoration, before his gaze hardened again.

“You were told not to come back here, Carson, why are you here? More importantly….” He tried off, and for the first time since he entered, Soven’s eyes flashed over to Lochlan. The man swallowed thickly, brown eyes locked on speckled blue, a shot of fear rippling over his spine.

“What are you doing here?”

Carson moved, laughing as he placed himself between them. He opened his mouth to say something, but something in Lochlan made him move, his hand falling to the Darkling’s shoulder as his own stare hardened.

“I want to see him. The mermaid. I was the one who pulled him out, I was the one held him during the storm and I was the one who made sure nothing happened to him. I’m not being left in the dark.”

Soven didn’t say anything for a moment, and it felt like an eternity had passed before he sighed, once again lifting his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“Go on then. I guess i’m just surrounded by Hard headed people. You will be required to sign a silence waver. You’re not allowed to talk about anything you hear or see in this building, Do you understand?”

Lochlan understood. You didn’t cross a Dhouti without serious consequences.

Lochlan moved, ignoring the mummers behind him in favor of the small little chips that were filtering through the door that led into the cell. Lochlan paused, his eyes on the door as he breathed in, now or never, sink or swim and god he felt like he was drowning.

Just see him again… we’ll start from there.

------------

Days. Four to be exact.

Four days of nothing but excruciating madness as the Langdons seemed to fall into what could only be called a madness. His father switched between anger and suffering, his mother inconsolable, the only solace she had was found in his father's arms.

The story was repeated. And recited to every Langdon, their interrogation of the smaller Delarosa was intense, their question bombarding, and relentless. Even Echo found himself tearing into the obviously frightened and worried boy. His words were starting to break, his spirit obviously deteriorating quickly as Scythe began for the thirtieth time to question Ethan. Blue eyes locked on cognac ones, ones that were filled with something between rage and desperation.

It was a long process, a process that Echo knew would lead them nowhere if they didn’t actually do anything. Not that the laws allowed them to do anything about the situation. On the contrary, if he was going to stand by their laws, Ridley was gone to them. His youngest brother was gone and by the laws would remain that way, even if he returned, he would have been an outcast, or worse, killed off.

Relations with any human was strictly forbidden. A law that was not taken lightly down here. A law that was taken to the fullest extent went presented, there were no warnings, there were no second chances. No matter the age. You were gone, nothing other than a traitor to their kind.

But still the days passed, a blur of emotions riddling through him until he had made that final decision. The one he knew could end his life, the one that he knew that the others had been having whispers of. But… They did not all have to suffer the same fate as what he knew making this decision would force him to face. The same fate that Ridley had been forced into.

But it wasn’t Ridleys fault he was caught, he was tangled into the net. From what Ethan had described he had fought against the ropes, he had tried to get out to free himself from the fate that he inevitably knew would befall him if he didn’t. And still. He had lost. And Echo could feel his heart wrenching, trying to tear from him as he thought about the fear that must have been wracking his brother. He could feel the frown pulling at his lips as the images raced behind his eyes.

But he was soft, his words coming out smoothly as tanned fingers pressed the bridge of his nose. His other hand clenched onto the smaller boy's shoulder, trying to force him into place so he could speak to him.

“Tell me again, Ethan. Tell me what happened out there. I need to know before i head out.”

He had to give Ethan some kind of credit, he stood tall, something most didn’t expect out of him. The boy was fragile looking, small and almost dainty in his movements, but he knew how to carry himself, knew how to act when it came down to it. And it came as no real shock when Ethan bucked up, his chest puffing out just that bit.

“I’ll just show you myself, we can get him back together.”

He was stern his voice, much like Echo’s came out softly, almost tentative but still he let those eyes fall on Echo own. Stern in his motion to accompany him. Ethan Delarosa let his hands clench into small fist. He knew what it meant to get caught, he knew what it meant just to go look for Ridley.

And here he was, still prepared for whatever the outcome may be.

“That makes sense. You did lose him.”

He chuckled half heartedly, his finger releasing the bys shoulder just to slap against his skin one good time.

--------------

“Wait…. What, what do you mean i can’t return?”

“If i allowed you return to Hydsa, if i said you could leave and not have to worry about any of us coming after you, where would you go? To your family? To the kingdom that you know would label you a traitor and willingly feed you to the shark?”

Ridley sunk back, his back hitting the cold concrete of the wall with a small thump, his head smacking right after that. He lifted his eyes to the ceilings, looking but not really seeing. She was right, where would he go, what would he do with himself once he got back, the questions would pile in. Every official would be sure to drag out the truth from him. If Ethan did not already tell them himself.

It was his fault. His fault for taking Ethan out so far into the human territories. Luckily though, it was only him paying the consequences. It was only him that was crammed into a hollow husk of a cage, and not with Ethan along his side. Stuck in the same predicament, with nowhere to run.

Arber shifted on the floor, her eyes trying hesitant but watchful. Her fingers rested easy against her knees, her black hair fell over her shoulders in waves as she watched. She was trying to be helpful, but she was human. She cold possibly make the damage worse. She could take his trust and twist games around the people holding him captive. He was always told that the humans were evil, always felt the itch of fear when the stories of them were told.

And from his experience with them thus far, he could truly state that they were just as horrible as he thought they were gonna be. She spoke softly as if she was speaking to an injured animal, her tone much too calm for a woman he knew was probably the reason he was actually here.

“I’m not here to scare you, Ridley. I want to help, but yo have to trust me. If even just a little bit.”

“How do you know my lan-”

There was a creak of hinges, the aluminum door swinging open to reveal the same man who had wandered across his thoughts once or twice since being in the confinement. Ridley watched with curious eyes as the darkling in front of him turned her head, shifting that smile to the brown and blonde haired boy that passed behind the door. One of her hands flung out in welcome to the much taller boy, her other coming down to rub against the floor that she was sitting on.

Brown eyes flickered to Ridleys and he couldn’t hold them, turning her head to shift his eyes back to Arber. There was a flare of temper whipping at his mind, forcing his eyebrows down as he looked away from the man. Irritation bloomed in his chest, but only if because it was the very man that had him confused. Forcing him to this and then soothing him through his way to this hell.

Ridley could see the hesitation that was littered in the man’s expression, painting across his body as he strode closer.

“Ah, Lochlan, here my love, come sit next to me. I’ll introduce you to Ridley.”

---------------------------

He watched him, Watched his long time friend slip into the cell, the old wooden door shutting quietly behind him with a soft click that resonated through the silence that had followed Lochlan’s declaration. He could see him still, Lochlan’s Brown and blond hair falling down his back, little braids and hair mattes that laziness refused to brush out, long strands spilling over his shoulders as he spoke, the words muffled by still slightly audible. He moved slightly, moving to place himself next to his mother, and Carson found himself wondering how of all people, the one to have pulled the scandal straight from the sea itself was his own Lochan, his sweet summer child, the boy too kind hearted for his own good and just about the last person who needed to have the weight of guilt slowing him down.

But fate had never been kind, and so it was with a heavy mantle about his shoulders Lochlan tried to make things right.

“Why did you come here, Carson?” His father’s voice asked, and Carson turned, duel colored gaze flicking back to his father's.

What was he supposed to tell him?

Carson hadn’t spoken a word about that day, the day he almost drowned and echo had saved him from an almost certain death. It wasn’t from a lack of being on his mind, mind you, as it had been on his mind frequently. Carson couldn’t tell you the number of times he had thought about it, about the merman that had stolen his thoughts with that red brown gaze and the quick quirk of his lips, could not tell you the number of hours he had spent in his bed staring at the window as he heard that ocean's lullaby, wondering about a creature long since thought fantasy, if maybe he didn’t dream it, imagined it….

But fantasies don’t hold him, and they don’t fix near lethal wounds.

Carson had wanted to tell his family… Hell, the moment he got back, Carson had wanted to tell them about the man who had saved him, about the Mermaid named Echo who had saved him, healed him and swam off, the only reason he still breathed today. He wanted to tell them what happened, but as soon as he had made to, his father’s phone had started going off, calling him into work. His mother had been angry at the phone, and his dad had put it off for as long as he could before he left, and really, as strange as it sounds, Carson felt fine after nearly dying. He was thirsty, tired, hungry, but his body only ached from fatigue, his headache gone and there was a fire in his chest that spurred him into the library.

Carson never got to tell his story, and now, with how this one was being treated, and seeing the regret in Lochlan’s frame…. Carson wasn’t sure he wanted to. If this was how they treated one, he didn’t want to see Echo like that. He didn’t know him, didn’t know anything on him other then he saved his life and had vanished just as quickly as he had come tumbling into his life, but Carson could already tell you that he didn’t want to see him look so…. Lost.

So Carson did something he had never done before.

He lied to his father

“I was just curious, Dad. You know my thing for the ocean and to see that Mermaids actually exist? It’s fascinating. I just… want to know more.”

“... I don’t know how much he would be able to give you, considering he doesn’t speak our language.”

Carson let out a slow breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. His father accepted his lie easily, and any guilt was overshadowed by relief that there was no one out looking for Echo.

“But Mom speaks thiers.”

It was something that had been bothering him, something that had struck him as strangely and inherently odd. His mind raced with questions, his head tilting as he listened, catching small clicks and grunts that somehow almost formed words, occasionally a word jumping out of him to his tounge.

“That’s-”

“Hey, Carson.”

The sound of another voice stomped out any words his father might have said, any answers he could have gotten. Carson sighed as he turned to ebbe, his friend glaring at him with storms in his eyes. Ebbe tilted his head, long red hair falling over his shoulder, before he jerked his head toward the Exit, his arms in his jacket pockets.

“The boat is heading back out to that spot again.”

The words took a moment to register, clipped and short with jagged glass in the tones. Ebbe was a hard boy to get to know, not saying much and instead choosing to stare and ignore most of everyone, and when he did talk, more often than not what he said was something insulting, grade A asshole material. Most people chose not to look past that, but Carson knew better, knew Ebbe since he was in middle school. Carson had asked him to keep him updated on when he would be returning out, had told him to tell him if anything else strange had happened or been seen.

Carson nodded, a smile crossing his lips before his dad spoke.

“Can anyone Just… walk up in here? Like how is it that three nineteen year olds just found their way into a supposedly guarded laboratory. Was anyone even up there, anyone at all?”

“No.”

“Oh. Of course. No one to guard the lab with the mermaid in it. Yeah. Okay. that makes total sense.”

Carson watched his father’s brow twitch, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing as he shook his head. Carson wanted to laugh, holding in a chuckle from building in his throat. Ebbe only stared, seemingly uncaring about the obvious distress of the older man, instead turning to look back at Carson.

“Let’s go then. Up that security, Papa Dhouti.”

Ebbe turned on heel, walking back down the hallway. Carson turned, casting a look to the boy who looked so similar to the Mermaid he wanted to see, before he turned away and started out the door.

“Wait! Carson! You Just almost Drowned, I don’t want you to-”

“I’ll be fine Dad, I feel fine. Nothing hurts or anything. I’ll be super careful. Okay, Love you too, bye!”

Carson left him gaping, heard his Dad’s frustrated growl, but he was already following after Ebbe, running to catch up to him. Ebbe said nothing as they walked through the building, but Carson hadn’t expected any different from him, considering he wasn’t the most talkative guy.

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as we get there.”

Carson smiled.

“Then we’ll take my car.”

---------------------------

Ridley. His name was Ridley.

Somehow that knowledge made everything more real. Lochlan hadn’t had a name before, didn’t have a name for the face that had haunted his dreams. He didn’t think he would ever be able to know his name, didn’t think he would ever really get to know him, and suddenly he had a name to place with him, and it was like everything shifted right into place.

His name was Ridley. Lochlan had fucked over a mermaid named Ridley.

It seemed so much more real with a name for the mermaid, like it was cemented now in facts and not in his head. He couldn’t deny thinking it was possible he imagined it all, that he would wake up and go to work and everyone would laugh at him if he brought up fantasies like capturing a mermaid. He had thought it would be all one extended dream, but the problem with that was that the thoughts of his face, memories of seeing him hurt and scared and alone made his chest hurt and his gut wrench kept him up until morning's early hours, plaguing him enough to create dark shadows under his eyes. It was more blatant now, apparent, and Lochlan bit his lip out of nervousness, tongue playing with the silver of his piercings.

Lochlan moved, taking another step forward to take the seat next to the woman he had come to call Momma Dhouti. He had only known her since freshman year of highschool, but over the years, Mrs. Dhouti had become something like a second mother to him, her entire being warm and inviting and alluring, every inch of her the super mom that she seemed to be known for. It was comforting to see her here, comforting to know that she was here taking care of the boy he was worrying about constantly. She would make sure he's okay, heal any wounds and soothe him, like she did for her sons and their friends, for Him and Ebbe and Ender. If anyone would make sure the mermaid, Ridley, was okay, it would be her. He settled easily next to her, crossing his legs to let his hands rest on his knees, nerves kicking up again, though there was a slight hesitance to all his movements, his gaze flickering over to Ridley as he drew in a breath.

“How’d you find out his name? He speaks a language I’ve never heard before.”

Lochlan flicked his gaze back to Mrs. Dhouti, his stare curious and confused, but ultimately just returned to the smaller boy, taking in the luminescent scales over his cheeks and face, the bright stare of his eyes as he stared back. He offered him a hesitant smile, a little wave before he dropped his hand..

“If he doesn’t want me here, I’d understand.”

----------------------------

It had been hours, or at least what felt like hours of continuous swimming, the area just off the shore of the ocean a lot further away than he originally remembered. First to look was Ethan, his body dipping down to nodded almost excitedly towards him. The boat was only spotted after a single search above the water, Their floodlights must have been blinding up close, because even from thirty feet away he could feel the sting just behind his eyes.

But the waters here were dark, more seaweed dense. So he could see why they would be trying to see into the waters, if only to catch another glimpse at one of the ‘elusive’ mermaids. And they would if Echo had anything else to say about it.Water droplets spray against his skin as he moved just above the surface his eyes on the boat, inspecting for a minute, before dipping again where Ethan stared at him with hopeful eyes.

“Could you throw those guppy eyes somewhere else? God man.”

Storms were already rolling, roaring above the edges surface, cooling the waters as it weathered on. It did nothing to deter Echo Langdon. Rather encouraged, pushed the boy closer until he was within feet of the nets that the humans so haphazardly threw out of their boats. But what all could he really say, it's not as if the Humans really knew what laid beneath the surface of the waters.

“Is that the one though?”

“Yea! That’s literally the same exact boat.”

“Okay, okay dude. Don’t cream yourself, we still gotta get to Ridley.”

Echo smiled, his hand reaching out to push Ethan slightly, but he could feel his own excitement building up in his chest, could feel the hope that had already deep rooted itself in his heart. This was probably the most excited he had felt in a while, but he refused to let relief hit until he had Ridley back safe in Hydsa with him.

“Okay, so what do we do now?”

“No, no sir. Noper dope. I’m not the only one that gonna sit here and figure things out Ethan. I’m not the smart one of this group thing we all got going on here.”

He could almost hear the boy roll his eyes as he swam closer to the ropes himself, fingers skimming over the thick tufts of net. But Echo was right behind him, his hands shaking as he watched Ethan move fluidly through the ropes, yanking on various ones.

“I mean, one of us can get caught, distract them to the front... Other gets on the ship…. boat ,.... I really don't know the difference. I just thin-”

“Ok, i’m gonna stop you there, your plan is flawed. And borderline stupid…. It's just stupid.”

“Then what do you suggest, Echo?”

“Waiting, at least until they get to shore, we can see where they took him at first at least.”

-------------------

It was strange. Most people would be uneasy with the thought of returning to sea so quickly after they had almost drowned, but as the boat rocked and they moved away from the harbor, Carson found that eh felt more at home then when his feet touch dry solid, mostly still land. He knew his father worried, but his love of the Ocean had not stemmed simply from his mom, his father happiest when you saw him on the waves, be it on a boat, a board or neck deep. Carson lived for the ocean, the sea and it’s waves, and it had been his careless mistake that had caused him his misfortunate near death.

It was a mistake he did not plan on making again.

The boat rocked, waves still high from last night storm, dark circling clouds telling that nature was not quite done with them yet, the ocean’s spray ghosting over his skin as he looked out toward the horizon. There was nothing but ocean, so much calmer than last night's waves,but still able to rock the boat enough to make him grab hold of the railing again, fingers practically white with ice and force. Ebbe was a few feet away from him, grabbing hold of the rail as he looked out to see, grey eyes moving to search over the water like he would find the exact point that they had pulled the mermaid out of the water. They were close, if the murmurings of half drives as he held onto a hope that was slowly beginning to fade and Carson could not help but feel… disappointed.

It wasn’t like he has expected to see Echo swimming between the white crests of waves, he didn’t expect to really see him out here, but there had been a glimmer of hope that maybe he would see him, or even another Mermaid again. Besides his obvious biases fascination, Carson had always been interested in the sea and it's creatures, had always liked reading and learning about the living beings under the oceans glassy top, and to know that one of his favorite mythical beast were real, living beings he could see and touch and hear…. It was like he was five again and believing in magic and fairy tales. He felt light and giddy, childish in a sense as he hoped to catch a glimpse of one, but ultimately stared at nothing but blue waters and grey skies.

Reality sunk in harsh, shattering the childlike hope, and Carson, for the first time since his obsession had been rekindled by the appearance of mermaids in his life, Carson was reminded that it was a more than likely chance that He would never see Echo again. The ocean was vast, and she was deep, and Echo was far beyond his reach now, far beyond any place he could ever follow.

Carson breathed out a low, slow breath.

Maybe Fairy tales are true, but life was still unfair.

“ALl RIGHT, FU- BOYS! TIME TO SETTLE IN FOR THE NIGHT!”

Captain Jackman’s words were stilted, jerky and twisted, almost foreign on his tongue as he awkwardly tried to cover the curse he almost said with another word, The son of his boss on board and not looking the least bit amused as he turned around, dual colored gaze locked on him with a dull expression. They were stopping for the night, and Carson just watched them idly as they set up anchor, throwing out the automatic nets for the night, sticking close to Ebbe but far enough that he wasn’t in the way.

Really, Carson just wanted to go home… The acceptance had cost him a lot of enthusiasm about this trip, and eh wasn’t so keen to spend the night on a ship with a bunch of old men who were trying to act friendly because he was Soven Dhouti’s son and didn’t want him talking bad about them when he returned home, treating him like a child who they could not curse around for fear he would run back to daddy dearest and tattle. Carson Rolled his eyes, passing time by star gazing on the very back edge of the highest point of the boat, high up and away from the sounds of the men under the deck who were laughing a joking with each other.

“Fucking hell Carson. You could be in bed, but nooo…. You had to chase a cute mermaid halfway around the ocean because you don’t know how to casually do anything, do you? Fucking idiot.”

Carson berated himself, his eyes on the stars above him, the flashing little lights so much more apparent here than from his bedroom window. One hand rested under his head to cradle his head and the other resting over his stomach, and he stared up at the sky, sitting up only to look at the light of the moon glimmering off the ocean waves.

#mermay #mermay2018 #mermaid #Mermaid au #Still Waters : MerMerAU #Repost #UltimaWrites #XellWrites #renekostudios

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