Chapter Text
Vi woke with a start the next morning.
At first she assumed she’d dreamed the events of the previous day. Who wouldn't? But reality came as soon as she realized she lay naked in bed.
It was all real: losing Vander’s fishing rod, nearly drowning, the mermaid. All of it. And Vi didn't know what to think.
All she knew was that her throat still burned, and her chest ached. But she wasn't nearly as cold as she was when she crawled into bed.
She glanced over at her clock; it was just past 1900 hours. Great, she had slept most of the day away. Her stomach growled; she supposed she hadn't eaten since this morning. She didn't have much in the cupboards, but she could surely find something.
Vi dragged herself out of bed, wincing as the cold air hit her skin. She rummaged through her dresser drawers for something dry to wear, landing on a white button-up and a pair of old trousers. She didn’t bother buttoning the shirt up.
1900 hours or not, Vi figured she may as well get some fishing done. She’d probably stay up a bit later tonight, see what more she could catch at this time of day. Last time she’d caught a few large barracuda it had been around this hour. Maybe there would be another school nearby. Not only were they good to eat, but they also sold at a nice price at the market.
She would have to use her old fishing rod, the one her dad had given her years before the fire. Tonight, she would keep a better hold of it. She wasn’t going to lose another piece of her past.
Vi took her kettle off the stove and tapped her large water barrel, filling it up just enough for one serving. The gas burner clicked on, and Vi lit the flame with a pocket lighter on the countertop before setting the kettle on the burner. As she waited for the water to boil, Vi cut two slices of bread off the loaf she kept in a small bread box. She made a mental note of the amount left on the loaf; it was nearly time to head to the market again. Vi clicked on another burner, placed a cast-iron pan on the stove, and tossed the pieces of bread into it.
Once the pot was boiling, and her toast was ready, Vi made a simple instant coffee and spread a can of sardines onto the slices of bread. It was nothing fancy, but it would get her through the rest of the day. Or, more accurately, night.
She balanced the plate of food and her mug in one hand, using the other to climb up the ladder from belowdeck into the main cabin of the boat. The sun was still up—barely. It shone a deep orange, painting the sky a beautiful red.
The cold evening breeze nipped at the bare skin under her open shirt, but her coffee was enough to keep her warm. It didn’t stop goosebumps from prickling up her belly and her arms. She took a sip of her cheap coffee, letting the taste and warmth pool in her mouth before swallowing. The heat seeped into her bones. Vi sighed softly.
While she had a lot to complain about, she also had plenty thankful for. Simple nights like this, food to fill her belly, a home. She had seen plenty without one of those things. They had families, but the families were dying around them. Famine and wartime were tearing them apart. And Vi had been one of the participants in both. She remembered firing missiles at a military cargo ship. They had been told it was packed with weapons, tanks, bombs, military planes. Anything you could imagine that would destroy families and cities. Vi thought she was doing good when she fired at it. She thought she was saving lives.
It was food. Clothes. Medicine.
She couldn’t eat for days after she found out.
They had lied to her.
She couldn’t stand knowing that someone was out there, hungry, because of her.
People died because of her.
Sure, they won the war. And, sure, they were on the right side of history. But there were plenty of people on the other side of the line who didn’t deserve any of this. There were many people who died fighting for a cause they did not truly believe in.
So she ate for them. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would want those on the other side who carry burdens like hers to be able to rest them, at least for a while. She wouldn’t want those who were unaware of the true horrors that they were perpetuating to carry the guilt the same way she did.
She set her cup and plate down next to the hatch in the floor when she had cleared and emptied them. Her belly was full, even if her mind wasn’t clear. But, then again, it never was.
Vi’s heart sank when she remembered she couldn’t haul her catch in with Vander’s fishing rod anymore. If only she had been paying closer attention, she would have had a sizable fish and the fishing rod. He’d fished with it for decades, and Vi had managed to lose it within a few years.
She hoped he wasn’t too disappointed in her.
Vi sorted through the storage under the passenger seat cushions, scrounging for the fishing rod her father had given her years ago. It would work the same as his, but it wasn’t the same. Either way, fishing was her livelihood, and she couldn’t stop now just because she was having a bad day. She snapped the pieces into place, watching as the rod took shape.
She wasn’t paying attention as she stepped out onto the deck. She didn’t survey, not like she often did. Even if she needed to move on without that fishing rod, it still dragged her mood down. She still wanted to mope and pout. And that she would. She didn’t care that it was a simple fishing rod, one easily replaced by the one in her hands. It made her feel close to her dad, like many things on this boat did.
“All this for a piece of junk.”
Vi’s head snapped up as she heard a familiar voice. It was her voice, the voice of the mermaid from earlier. Well, if she had thought she was dreaming before, she knew she certainly wasn’t now. She sat crouched at the very end of the boat, leaning back against the bow.
In her hands was a seaweed and algae-covered fishing rod.
Vander’s fishing rod.
“Oh my gods,” Vi gasped, dropping the rod in her hand. “You found it?”
You brought it back to me after everything I said?
“It seemed important to you. I came across it tangled in reeds and figured I may as well return it.”
“Thank you, thank you so much, I—I don’t know what to say,” Vi said, taking a careful step forward.
The mermaid flinched away, her eyes scanning Vi closely.
“I…” Vi started. She didn’t know what to say, suddenly so aware of what was happening, what she had done. The hurt she might have caused. “I’m so sorry for what I said—I was scared and—”
“Yeah, well, I’ve returned your rod,” the mermaid scoffed, tossing it to Vi. “What you said was rather inappropriate.” Her face softened a touch. “Why would you think I would hurt you?”
“I… don’t know.”
Vi wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Her fingers dug into the skin of her biceps.
Why had she said that? Even after everything Vander taught her.
“Well, you did strip me,” Vi half-chuckled, trying to lighten the mood with humor.
“Did you want to die of hypothermia?” The mermaid furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes.
Humor does not translate well with mermaids, noted.
“I am sorry.”
The creature nodded, more in acknowledgement than acceptance, and dove off the boat. Vi watched the rings on the water from the splash of her reentry into the ocean until they rippled into stillness once again.
Over the next several days, Vi couldn’t stop thinking about her strange encounter. She couldn’t stop kicking herself over how she had acted during each encounter, but even with the guilt Vi wasn’t sure how else she could have reacted.
At a certain point, there were only so many ways one can react in a situation like that, right? She wasn’t entirely in the wrong. It was only natural to panic in a situation like that.
Even so, Vi felt terrible. She played the interaction in her head over and over as she went about her routine. Why had she said things like that? What if she worded it differently? Would it matter?
Either way, it's not like a mermaid and a human could get along.
Could they?
There was too much difference between them. Vi was a land dweller even if, in all fairness, did spend most of her time at sea. But she docked at shore and she spent at the very least a quarter of her time on land. That was too much. It would be too much. That, and it wouldn't be safe. The people of Zaun would not take kindly to a—
Why was she even thinking about this? The mermaid was gone. They weren't acquaintances, certainly not friends. The ocean was vast, and they would never see each other again.
So why was the idea so tantalizing?
She needed people. That was the main thing Dr Madarda had told her. A community. Not just her and Elora. Vi needed real connection.
But with a mermaid?
How would she even start?
Vi tried to suppress these thoughts and feelings towards the creature, forcing a laugh at herself whenever they came up, though it hurt. She just wanted someone, anyone. She was desperate; no wonder the first thing that spoke to her would make her feel this way.
But that didn't explain everything.
Not how much her mind wandered at night, imagining the curves and dips of her body, the swell of her breasts, her lips. She wondered what her scales would feel like under her touch. How her lips would feel. Would they be soft? Rough? Sharp like catfish fins? Was her hair soft, or was it scratchy like seaweed?
How would her breasts feel under her hand? Soft? Firm? Would her nipples scrape like scales or sandpaper?
The questions flooded her mind late one night, dangerously trailing to the one thing Vi always tried to avoid.
She had taken out a book on mermaids from the local library, flipped past all the pages about hunting and trapping, straight to the one about the anatomy of the sea creatures. She found out that mermaids only had one sex, hence the need for a host for their eggs. They each had a thick, curved phallic appendage called an ovipositor. It lay sheathed, the slot to the opening looking similar to a human vulva. When it came time to lay, it emerged, slick with a lubricated slime and pulsing.
Vi’s face flushed red as she realized she had made up that last part. It was an image created in her mind, one of the mermaid looming above her, ovipositor unsheathed and dripping wet. As much as she wanted to push the thought down, she realized her thighs were tightly squeezed together and damp. Her hand already palmed the front of her boxers.
“Fuck,” she breathed as she slid her hand into her boxers, finally feeling how truly wet this fantasy made her.
She groaned as her fingers trailed down and found her clit, already swollen and so sensitive. As much as she didn’t want to, she let the fantasy continue. She imagined how it would feel to take it into her mouth, if there would be ridges that rubbed against her tongue and throat. Vi wondered how the slick that coated it would taste, if the mermaid would let Vi set her own pace or dig her fingers into Vi’s scalp, pull her hair, and fuck her face.
Vi whimpered as she rubbed small circles on her clit, and slid her other hand down to toy with her entrance, biting her lip as she slid one finger inside herself. She spread her legs as she imagined the creature taking her. Hands steady and strong on her hips as she stretched Vi, filling her more than she ever had been before. Abundant slick coated the inside of her cunt, but even still ridges and bumps along her length kept just the right amount of friction. Vi added a second finger, then a third, stretching herself as much as her body would allow tonight. She arched her back as she imagined the mermaid reaching her peak, filling her with slick as she prepared for the last step.
Then, it would happen. One by one, eggs the size of a large marble would come, as many as two dozen. The mermaid would whine and gasp as they pushed through her ovipositor, and Vi, gasping as they stretched her that much more.
And, to Vi’s horror, this image in her mind's eye, the one of being fucked and filled with twenty or so eggs, sent her tumbling into the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced. Toes curled and back arched as she rode the high as long as it would let her. It left her gasping as she fucked herself through it, realizing that at some point she had managed to add a fourth finger.
As she lay there, panting, the reality of what she had done sank in, poisoning the pleasurable feeling of relaxation in her bones.
“What the fuck?” Vi said, sitting straight up in bed. She looked at her hands, slick with her own cum, and shifted uncomfortably in her soaked boxers. “What the actual fuck, Violet? Why would—”
What the fuck was wrong with her? She was desperate, but by the Gods, she didn’t think she was that desperate. Never had she masturbated to anything so… vile. Why in hell would that even cross her mind?
She felt sick to her stomach; the slick feeling between her legs was still so present. Why the fuck did she think that? Why did she like it?
Vi jumped up from her bed to rinse her hands and change her boxers. She prayed that cleaning herself of her own slick would wipe away her shame.
It didn't, but it was a nice thought.
This episode bothered her deeply. It poisoned the coming days, made her feel sick to her stomach. Never had the sin of sex bothered her until now. Never had it made her feel so disgusting.
“Is there something wrong with me?” Vi muttered, arms crossed tightly around her chest.
Elora cocked her head and smiled softly. “Why would there be?”
Vi had come into town to pick up the prescription for her shell shock episodes. Elora was always kind enough to listen, and Mel—Dr Medarda—was kind enough to as well if she had the time.
Vi wouldn't tell them everything, but she could give a vague idea.
“I don't know I—it felt gross.”
Mel hummed as she leaned her hips against the reception desk. “What about it made you feel gross? Did you feel like you were doing something wrong?” Her eyes darkened, and a threatening aura brewed behind them. “Did you want to hurt someone?”
“What? No!” Vi tightened her arms around her chest. She's certain that Mel has heard horrific confessions of fantasies and later actions. But Vi was certainly not that kind of girl. “No, I'd never want to hurt anyone.”
“Not without explicit permission,” Mel smirked as she took a sip of her coffee. Vi rolled her eyes.
“I, um,” Vi dug her teeth into her lip. How was she supposed to describe this to them?
They hated mermaids as much as the rest of the town. Hey, so I met a mermaid. She was so hot I fantasized about her laying eggs in my pussy and came harder than I ever had before, likely wouldn’t sit well with them.
“I—was thinking about a girl—”
“You met someone!?” Elora nearly flew out of her chair. “Vi, that's wonderful!”
“No, no that's the thing, I don’t really know her,” Vi could feel her face flushing red, and what she said next was not entirely a lie. “I thought about her while I was… y'know. It feels wrong but I did.”
“Is that all?” Mel said as she swirled the coffee in her hand.
“Yeah,” Vi lied as her nails dug into her skin. “Some other fantasies tied to it but nothing — nothing crazy.”
“Well, you had me worried you were thinking of committing a crime,” Mel chuckled in relief.
Vi was certainly not as relieved. She wasn’t entirely sure if sex with a mermaid was completely legal.
“What should I do?” Vi’s voice was so meek, so small she was surprised anyone heard her.
“Talk to her, for starters,” Elora smiles. “Don’t tell her about the fantasies, obviously, but who knows? She could be the start of something special.”
“I agree,” Mel said. “Do we know her?”
Vi breathed a laugh. “No. She's not from around here.”
Vi wanted to say that the talk with Mel and Elora had helped. She really did. But a “freak” diagnosis and a prescription for a “good fuck” was not particularly helpful. Especially considering they didn't know the whole truth.
Speaking to this mystery creature would not help the ache that so suddenly came over Vi. The ache to be filled and used. To have her cunt filled and stretched beyond what she believed possible.
Using the mermaid's likeness in the fantasy only carried part of her shame. It was certainly part of it, though, but the idea of speaking to the mermaid didn’t seem like one that would help. How it was supposed to help with the… rest of her fantasy was beyond her.
And anyway, how on earth was she to find her?
It still lingered in Vi’s mind the more time passed.
Why did she save Vi? Why didn't she just let her die?
She was always alone. Was she lonely, too?
Perhaps that's how Vi found herself in the same spot she was rescued the week before. And why she had decided to leap back into the water. But not without a backup plan.
She'd stripped down to her boxers, with a rope tied around her waist. No drowning today.
Not that she needed to worry.
Not a minute after she entered the water, smooth, scaly arms wrapped around her, and a body pressed against her back.
“Have you considered another career?” the Mermaid said as she pulled Vi back to the surface. “You certainly do not take to the sea well.”
Vi gasped and sputtered as she surfaced, despite choosing to jump into the water this time, it was still bitterly cold.
“Believe it or not, I've spent most of my life at sea,” she said once she had gulped a sufficient amount of air.
“Perhaps it's time for a change then, unless you have a death wish,” she mocked, then trailed off. “What is this?”
Oh, right, the rope.
“Oh, that—I—”
The mermaid slammed Vi’s back against the hull of the boat. Her blue eyes were sharp and narrowed as she scanned Vi’s face.
“Are you trapping me?”
“No! No, I swear to God,” Vi stammered, the air knocked out of her lungs. “It was for me, in case you didn't, you know.”
“Rescue you?” She said, brow still followed, but the anger on her face was replaced with confusion. “Why would you—”
“I was looking for you,” Vi said, “I—I wanted to speak to you.”
“Why?”
That was the first, truly genuine thing that Vi had ever heard the mermaid say. No snark in her voice, no mockery, no anger, just genuine confusion.
She was so pretty this close up. Vi hadn’t quite noticed how long her eyelashes were, or the sharp point of her nose. So many new details to take in. Vi wanted to take in more.
“I don't know, I just… want to.”
To Vi’s surprise, that was enough to peak the mermaid's interest. Enough to have her climb onto Vi’s boat again, and sit down for a cup of coffee.
Vi had her half-naked frame wrapped in a spare blanket and given the mermaid one as well. She didn’t ask but there was an obvious discomfort in the way she carried herself. She looked like she felt exposed, and took the blanket willingly.
“I'm Vi, by the way,” Vi said as she settled onto the deck, crossing her legs and cupping her mug in her hands. Its warmth made her damp, naked frame that much more bearable.
“Caitlyn,”
“Wait, seriously?” Vi couldn’t help but chuckle. The mermaid—Caitlyn—narrowed her eyes. “Sorry, just doesn’t sound like a mermaid name.”
“Vi isn’t very human, either.” Caitlyn scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Violet,” Vi admitted. “But, well, my dad used to call me that, and it kinda hurts to hear it from anyone but him.”
Caitlyn nodded, then took a deep inhale, smelling the mug of coffee in her hands.
“I’ve never tried this,” she admitted, “But my father always loved it.”
“Father?” Vi said without thinking, though much of what Caitlyn had said was strange.Well, her never trying coffee certainly made sense. Where would she have sourced it?
But a father? Weren’t mermaids all of one sex?
Unless…
“My father, yes, I have one just as many of us would,” Caitlyn said, tone matter of fact as if Vi wasn’t mulling over the possibilities in her head as she spoke. “He was human, lived not far from here. My mother and I used to visit him before your kind became so increasingly violent.”
Vi took a sip of her coffee, unsure how to respond to the comment. Caitlyn did the same, wincing as the hot liquid met her tongue.
“Sorry,” Vi said. “Too hot?”
“No, it’s—oh it's vile,” Caitlyn grimaced, smacking her lips as if it would rid her of the taste. “I always thought a hot drink was a nice idea. Mother always said it warmed her inside and out, whatever that meant. But this is awful.”
Vi couldn’t help but chuckle, covering her lips with her hand to suppress the sound.
“Not worth it at all,” Caitlyn said, still on about the drink as if it had wronged her in some way. Then she turned back to Vi, eyes narrowing. “Unless… did you poison this?”
“What? No, no.” Vi shook her head. Then reached out for Caitlyn’s mug, taking it gently into her free hand, and took a big swig. It burned her lips, her tongue and her throat, but it tasted the same as always. Shitty, instant coffee. “See? Nothing wrong with it.”
“Well I wouldn’t say nothing,” Caitlyn looked her up and down, then back to the mugs in Vi’s hands. “I can’t believe your kind enjoys that.”
“To be fair, this is the cheap stuff,” Vi chuckled. “You can get premium shit, grind your own beans and what not. Probably tastes a ton better. But this is what my dad and I always drank, so it’s what I drink.”
“I see,” Her eyes trailed to the ship's deck. “Were you and your father close?”
“Yeah, we were.”
“I wish I had the chance to be close with mine,” Caitlyn said. Her blue-tipped finger traced the grain of the wood. “Mother and I were close until she was killed.”
“Monster hunters?” Vi said before she could stop herself. Caitlyn nodded. “I’m sorry.”
The mermaid shrugged. “It’s not like you could have prevented it.”
“I guess.”
That was the shitty thing about Vi’s life, wasn’t it? This world was so painful to live in at times; her parents and sister killed in a fire, Vander likely killed by his past colleagues. The lives she had knowingly and unknowingly taken at war. Each and every action was something Vi could not have prevented. She was far too young to save her family, she couldn’t have saved Vander. She would have died if she had not defended herself, she didn’t know that boat was saving lives.
Life seemed to be something that just happened to Vi. She loved and she lost, and lost, and lost. Everyone slips through her fingers and there is nothing she can ever do to prevent it. Gods, she wished there was something—anything—that she could do.
But everyone was already gone, each candle already burnt out. With nothing to be done about it.
Was it fair to let this one flicker to life?
“My father must have drank a different kind. He had taste.”
And Caitlyn smirked, soft and small, but smirked at Vi.
Perhaps one of Vi’s candles had a spark.
“There are other hot drinks too,” Vi said, finishing off her first mug and beginning to sip from Caitlyn’s. “Teas, and—oh, hot chocolate is always a hit.”
Caitlyn cocked her head.
Oh, Vi thought, and a warm feeling burned in her chest, She’s never tried tea or hot chocolate before. She’s probably not tried most things I have.
Vi grinned widely. “I could get you some different things to try. And some snacks and foods too.”
Caitlyn looked from Vi’s mug, to the grin still plastered on her face. “For me?”
“Yeah, for you,” Vi said. “I’m sure you haven’t tried much of our foods before.”
“I’d like that.”
Caitlyn did not stay for much longer. She was frightened, Vi could tell in the way she looked over her shoulder and kept a keen eye on the horizon. Even if there had not been hunters in these waters for years, Vi could understand the fear.
But today she left with a promise, a promise to return, and a promise to try whatever it was that Vi brought back with her.
And, with that, the flame ignited.