Work Text:
Curious, adventurous, and well-read, Furina grew up hearing all the stories about the seas. She has heard of the abundant plants and fishes found there, as lively as the creatures found in land. She has heard of the majestic castles made of the most precious materials— corals, shells, and pearls. She has heard of the Sea People— the impossible beauty they possess, incomparable, they say, even to the most beautiful humans.
Furina has been told, often, that these stories were too good to be true. They must not exist, she has been told— or if they do, it is too dangerous to find out. But when she woke up that morning by the shore— unscathed, peaceful, and void of all the fear she had felt when their ship had crashed the night before— she became certain. It could only be through the goodness of the Sea People that she was saved.
She has been sitting daily by the shore since then, hopeful that one day, her savior would visit, and allow her to thank them personally. The first time, she spent the entire day sitting there, quietly, patiently, with a basket of the palace garden’s freshest fruits on her lap. She figured that her savior would enjoy looking (in case they could not eat them) at things that would not be found in the sea. But by the sunset, no Sea Person appeared before her. Disheartened but not entirely hopeless yet, she returned to the palace, leaving behind the basket in case her savior would come along at night.
The next day, the fruit basket was gone.
As much as Furina wanted to believe that it was her savior who picked up her basket, she was not entirely naive. After all, they were perfectly good fruits— could be picked up and eaten by anyone in need of sustenance. So, for this time around, she decided to bring something that is less valuable for humans, but might be precious for someone who has never seen them before. She brought tree branches. Sat by the shore for the entire day, and after sunset, left behind the branches and returned to the palace.
When she returned the next day, her gift was gone again.
“You really are here,” she whispered quietly. Right then, the sea breeze brushed her cheek, and something told her that it was not simply due to the wind’s nature.
She sat down by the shore. “Well, I did not bring anything to give you today.” She had considered bringing a few items, like a favorite hairbrush or the prettiest rogue she owns, but before she could pick those items up, she thought of an idea. “But I do hope you’re truly here. Or that you’re still here. Else I would be very sad!”
Gentle waves lapped at the sand beneath her, tickling her feet.
She smiled. “I would take that as a yes.” Then, she opened the book she brought and started reading, sharing to her savior— her friend, now— the fascinating stories she grew up with. She had heard of all the stories about the seas; had the Sea People heard anything about the land, she wondered? And now that she told them these, what could they think? Would they think these are beautiful too? Could they also be, to no matter how small of an extent, curious?
Could these stories be as special to them, as the sea stories were to her as a child?
Furina spent the entire day speaking, speaking, until her throat started to hurt and she had no more stories to tell. When the sunset came and it was time for her to leave, she could not help but feel as if the waves were growing stronger, as if the seas were trying to reach for her.
The next day, she found a seashell by the shore— large, shimmering, and the most beautiful she has ever seen.
For the next few days, weeks, Furina and her friend fell into a routine. She would sometimes bring them items: cutlery, mirror, clothing, jewelry— things of different value in the eyes of humans, yet could be equally fascinating to her friend. She would tell them all about their function, or even the story behind how they are made, or how she personally acquired them.
On other days, she would read them books of different genres— histories, romances, thrillers. She would narrate these stories with all her heart, trying to ensure that her audience is captivated. At one point, she even brought fantasy books about mermaids, told her friend about the speculations humans have about their kind.
“The stories I read always depict you so majestically,” she said. “I might not have seen any of you, but I’m sure that’s true. And, more important than that—! What I’m most certain of is the kindness of your heart.”
Waves rippled along the shore— small ones, as if the sea was hesitant. Are they doubtful?
Or maybe... shy?
Furina giggled. “And your generosity too. Oh, that reminds me!” She fished for something in her pocket, then put it down on the sand between them. “I made a necklace.”
It was not just Furina who gave her friend gifts. Every morning, when she arrived by the shore, she found beautiful seashells waiting for her. They varied in sizes and colors— each more exquisite than the last. At first, she still carried all of them in her pocket, wanting a trace of her friend on her person at all times— but when it became too heavy to carry all of them with her, she decided to display them in her quarters, carefully arranged near her bed.
But her few favorites, she decided to make into a necklace— a trace of her friend to be always worn near her heart.
The waves slowed down, gently touching Furina’s craft as if they were handling a delicate piece of art. Her cheeks warmed up. Now that she thought of it, her friend had never shown her any of the crafts that can be found deep within sea. What art forms do the Sea People enjoy? Do they create necklaces out of seashells as well? Ah, definitely, they could create much more intricate work than she could. Furina may be excellent in terms of the performing arts, but artwork such as this is something that she did not do often. She was sure she could reach perfection with enough practice, but as she stood now... what could her friend think of her work?
All of a sudden, the sea started pulling the necklace away from her, as if it was... taking it for themself...?
“Oh! Um...” Furina was unsure of how to react. “Do you... like it?” Was her friend taking her necklace because they liked it so much, or... or because they thought it was unsightly, and it was best to be discarded...?
The waves continued their slow motion against her skin, warm and relaxing as it always was— and it was in moments like this that she wished her friend would speak, accompany their kindness to her with the assuring words that would stop her from overthinking. She was not complaining, exactly; she was happy with their company as it was.
But sometimes, she could not help it— the yearning for a deeper connection, for their stronger presence.
Stronger presence? She was not even sure if that was the right description for it. Could someone still have a stronger presence, than that of the vast seas that attempted to make itself known to a small human like her? What else was she asking for, truly? Her friend had saved her life, listened to her stories, given her gifts, and stayed by her side. Where was she getting the audacity to yearn for more?
Furina swallowed the bitter taste forming in her throat. Mustered a smile. “Do with it as you please, my friend.”
The next day, she found something different by the shore. It was not just one shell, but a meticulously arranged selection of multiple, threaded together to form layers of iridescent beauty. It was a necklace— far more intricately created than what Furina’s had been.
Did her friend make this? Was this how seashell necklaces commonly looked among Sea People? Furina had so many questions, but there could be no answers.
But she picked up the necklace, wore it. The multiple layers of shells made the necklace sit more closely to her chest, her heart.
There were many other encounters after that. After Furina had shown her friend her mediocre— for now!— skills in craft, she figured that she should also show them where she excels: music, dance, theater, and the sword. She played them the violin and the flute; she sang them songs; she performed dances. She thought of all the different aspects of humanity that she could showcase to her friend, making sure that she only performed everything with her whole heart, nothing less.
She allowed herself to be vulnerable in her performances. She wore her heart on her sleeve, open for her friend’s taking, if they so wished.
When the sea responded with its glorious waves or its soft ripples; when the wind responded with its gentle breezes or enthusiastic whistling— was it her friend being equally open to her, as she was to them? They did not speak her language, could not communicate to her the way she would prefer. But Furina, as she had often told her friend, is certain of the goodness in their heart. She knew them, despite the times she had difficulties comprehending.
One time, after she performed something particularly tiring, she sat on the shore to gather herself. Right then, the sea, to her surprise, started splashing water on her. She erupted to giggles. It took her a while to realize that it was her friend inviting her to take a dip, cool herself down by submerging herself in the waters.
So that was exactly what she did. She stripped herself of her coat, her pants, and most of her other layers, went deeper into the waters, and allowed herself to float around.
She basked in her friend’s embrace. The sea was cold, but it was the warmest she has ever felt in her life.
One day, Furina got into an argument with the queen— something that rarely happens, as she and the queen were often in agreement. After all, despite spending so much of her time by the sea nowadays, Furina still never faltered in fulfilling her duties as the heir to the throne.
As it would seem— never, until today.
She could not contain it. To avoid the impending burst of emotion that might lead her to do something she would regret, she ran out of the palace immediately. Headed straight to the shore. Sought peace, sought the company of the only being in the world she had ever trusted— could ever trust— with her vulnerability.
She did not have to say anything. When she sat down, the waves immediately slowed down, as if it made space for all the heart Furina would offer.
After a long moment of silence, she spoke, “Do you remember the stories I used to tell you, when we first met? About princes, princesses, their grandest weddings and happy endings?”
The waves remained slow and calm, as if waiting for her to continue.
“The queen told me that she is planning my wedding soon. To a person from a lineage as glorious as ours, she said. A perfect match for someone as accomplished as I. A most-fitting future monarch of the lands.”
She swallowed.
“But I... refused.”
She gathered her knees to her chest, leaning her chin on it as she directed her gaze to somewhere far away.
As the silence stretched, tiny droplets started falling from the sky.
“I do not need someone who matches me in order to rule these lands well. I am intelligent, capable, charming— and I know I have what it takes to make these lands flourish, without having to resort to some royal marriage. I can fight for this kingdom. I can execute policies that address its needs. I can form and maintain alliances without having to put my heart on the line— I do that now, even, as the heir!
“But more importantly...” She clenched her jaw, considering what words to say next. “I will only marry the person my heart and my soul so desire.”
Except it was impossible. No matter how much her heart yearned and her soul ached; no matter how much she knew and how much she tried to comprehend— there is far too vast of a difference between her who dwelled on land and her friend who dwelled in the seas. No matter how much she tried, there were simply things that they could not do together. She could continue enjoying her friend’s company, sit by the shore everyday and feel their presence in the waters and the winds— but things such as a human marriage with them, as the kingdom expects of her? She doubted they would even try to comprehend the relationship she had with the seas in the first place.
Right then, it started pouring, waterdrops as heavy as her feelings pitter-pattering against her skin. The seas were moving, yet with how long Furina had been with her friend, she had started to recognize when the seas motions were from them— and they were not; they were uncharacteristically quiet.
Furina could only shut her eyes. Let out a sigh. And whisper helplessly against the harsh sound of the rain:
“Would it really be too much to ask... if I want to see you?” Her voice has gotten weak, soft, that she was not sure if her friend would still hear. But maybe that was what helped her to gain more and more courage, to finally speak about the desires she had so suppressed, the thoughts she had so hidden. “Just once. Just once, please, then maybe... Maybe I could finally move forward. Maybe I could finally stop this helpless, hopeless yearning for the impossible fairytale I have made up in my head.”
She waited.
Her friend did not respond.
She almost laughed. What sort of response did she expect from that, truly? She had already established that she and her friend have different natures, and this played into the dynamic of their friendship. Why would she expect things to change suddenly?
But at least she had said it. At least she tried to ask. And maybe there was some closure to be found here, in this exchange, that further proved the vast difference between the two of them— that further proved how silly it was for her to feel such things for her friend.
This should bring her peace. Yet she kept her eyes tightly closed, mustering all her strength so she could keep the tears from spilling down her face.
She remained like this for a while, until all of a sudden, she felt the soft touch of a shaking hand against her cheek.
Startled, she flinched and opened her eyes, only for the hand to pull back a little. It was through this movement that she felt something solid touch her face— a long fingernail, perhaps— except no, she could see it in the periphery of her vision: this was no human hand. It was—
It was a claw.
Oh my goodness. Could it be—?
Immediately, she met the gaze of her new company, and found a pair of attentive eyes, as purple as gems. But that was not what held her attention. Not even the iridescent silver scales lining the man’s cheekbones, or his webbed ears, or the long luscious white hair that flowed freely against his person. Instead, it was the vulnerable expression on his face— what was it, fear? apprehension?— that made him appear so fragile, so human.
Oh, so he was not that different, after all. Slowly, Furina raised her hand to reach for his cheek. It was surprisingly warm and soft to the touch, even the scales— but he flinched a little when her fingers grazed against them. They must be sensitive... These scales were scattered all over his body, she observed, and most of it, of course, could be found on his long, long tail, which looked almost blinding with how it shimmered.
He was large. His torso already appeared strong and long, but it was his tail that made up most of his body. Furina had to resist the urge to gulp upon noticing how heavy it looked, how easily it could crush her if he so decided. Yet she was not afraid, no, for she knew her friend’s heart. Just like how he tamed the wild seas to connect with her, she was certain that he would never use his strength for anything that could hurt her.
As Furina wandered her eyes around his figure, her attention was caught by something that sat right on his chest.
“You’re wearing it,” she said in disbelief. “The necklace.”
Her friend followed her gaze, delicately touching every shell threaded together around his neck. “You made it,” he answered, as if that was all he needed to say.
And really— that was all he needed to say, because the next moment, Furina could no longer help herself. She pulled herself up, leaned closer to him, and pressed their lips together.
It was almost unbelievable how quickly he responded. With a hand hovering over her face and another by her waist, he deepened their kiss— oh, that was definitely longer than a human tongue, was it not? And his teeth were sharper than humans’ as well, yet they were gentle when they nibbled her lower lip, careful despite his thinly-veiled hunger.
Furina’s fingers brushed against the scales on his cheekbone, and he— oh my goodness, he moaned against her mouth, and the sound made her head light. So she did again, stroking against it over and over, until he started losing his control, his claws lightly digging against her nape and her clothed waist.
Furina did not realize how long it took. But as they continued savoring each other’s mouth and letting their hands wander, everything eventually felt softer. His scales which she caressed became skin, his tongue in her mouth became more manageable, and his claws have transformed into hands that held her more firmly.
“Furina,” he whispered against her mouth, the split-second she parted from him to catch her breath. The moment did not last long, because she quickly leaned for a kiss again, pulled him into a desperate embrace again. He was all skin now, and she was vaguely aware of the long limbs that took the place of his tail. Human. How did that happen? She was not certain, and she could not be bothered to examine— not when he was currently bare and vulnerable in her hold, like a mollusk freshly pulled out of its shell. She used to dream of times like this. Now that she has him in her hands, she could not anymore fathom having to let him go, even for a while.
So it was him who let go, after a while— panting against her face with his cheeks all flushed.
“My name...” He said, still trying to catch his breath. Perhaps he needed some time to adjust to his new human nose. “My name is Neuvillette.”
“Hi, Neuvillette,” she replied with a smile, which grew wider by the second, as she came to an amusing realization that she got to know the taste of his mouth before she even got to know his name. The rain had stopped pouring now; the heavy sadness that lingered in the atmosphere earlier had now fully dissipated. Instead, there came powerful waves crashing against the shore, as intense as the passion shared between the two of them.
Now that Furina’s head was slightly clearing up, she finally took the opportunity to look at Neuvillette’s new form. He had truly become human, that if she did not see his shimmering scales just a while ago she would never have suspected that he was different at all.
“Is this... something that happened often?” Furina vaguely gestured to his legs, not quite sure how to ask.
“No...” Now that attention was brought to his legs, Neuvillette directed his own focus to it, watching himself try to move every toe, every joint and muscle that can be found there. “This is entirely new to me as well. I never knew that my body could... adapt this way.”
He observed his new human features more— not just his legs, but also his arms and chest that have now lost their scales. Then, he met Furina’s eyes.
“Had I known...” He leaned closer to her, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “It wouldn’t have taken me this long to reach you.”
Furina’s heart fluttered— ah, so she could not help but bring their lips together again. This time, their similar human figures allowed them to meld into each other more easily, and relish in the passion that burned between them. Neuvillette, in his enthusiasm, carefully pushed Furina down the shore with his weight— and it was dirty, it was wet, the tides kept creeping up her back and it was likely ruining her clothes, but Furina did not mind it— glad that it was Neuvillette for once that was showing her his heart.
In between their kisses, Neuvillette rested his forehead on hers, whispered, “I had been afraid. That I might not be the kind person that you imagined me to be.” He kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck. “So I feared showing myself. I thought— I thought it would be best, if I could keep myself hidden forever, so as to allow you to conjure whatever image you would like of me.”
“No, no,” she gasped, breathless from how overwhelmed she felt. Her clothes are— for goodness’ sake, they were getting in the way, Neuvillette could not touch her properly because her clothes were getting in the way, and it took all of her patience to unbutton her shirt properly and not straight up ruin it. What was she about to say again? She lost the thread of her thought, so she said the first thing that came to her mind and hoped for the best, “I want you. I want you, I want you, no matter how ugly or beastly, I wanted to know, Neuvillette— ah—” He grasped on her breasts, the sensation rougher due to the sandy water that came with his touch. “I wanted to know you. It wasn’t for the best; I ached all the time with how much I wanted—”
“I am sorry,” He said, cupping her face. He looked at her straight in the eyes, his gaze equally filled with tears and determination. “I will never deprive you of anything ever again.”
And oh— Neuvillette immediately followed through with that generous promise, in the next moments they shared, trailing her entire body with kisses and reverent touches that sent pleasant tingles down her spine. Along this reverence was his hunger, desperation— did Neuvillette even realize that his eagerness would leave prominent marks on her skin? Furina was not certain, but she found that the idea was not at all unpleasant, especially that she got to mark him in turn.
It was Neuvillette who unbuttoned her pants and pulled them away, despite his unfamiliarity with the specifics of human clothing. A charming display that made Furina erupt into giggles— until Neuvillette’s mouth and fingers distract her from it, making her break, this time, into the threadiest moans. He stroked her, kissed her, until she was all wet and relaxed enough for his girth— before filling her up over and over, until both of them got reduced into soft, fragile mess, vulnerable to be seen by themselves, the seas, and the skies.
They made more love— as much as their energy allowed them. Then, when they were spent, they simply cuddled by the sea, letting the tides relax their bodies as they exchanged stories about themselves. This time, Neuvillette was an active participant, sharing to Furina all about the mysteries of the deep waters. He was not as vibrant of a storyteller as Furina was, but he tried his best to describe everything in great detail, wanting to ensure that he could make things as vivid as possible in her head.
“I believe you’ll be able to visit, one day, and see all of these for yourself,” he said, stroking the hair of the resting Furina by his chest. “I do not know how, yet. But I can see it, how perfectly you’d fit among the treasures of the seas.”
“Hmm...” Furina looked up, smiling. “Do you think I’d transform too, just like you have? Gain a tail, scales, and the ability to breathe underwater?” she asked. “I wonder how I’d look as one of you. Your silver scales were quite gorgeous— do you think I’d have something similar? Wait, do all Sea People have scales that look like yours?”
Furina did want to stir up Neuvillette’s imagination, and by the looks of it, she was successful— except something about his eyes told her that it was not quite in the way she intended. All of a sudden, his gentle eyes intensified, perhaps enjoying the image of a mermaid Furina in his head a little bit too much...
Needless to say, in no time, Furina and Neuvillette were onto each other again. Their bodies became one with the sandy shores; their noises one with the crashing waves. Here was where the land and the sea meet. Here was where they intertwined, and here was where they would stay forever.