Work Text:
You woke with a start to the hurried pounding of boots outside your cabin door, the ringing of bells and panicked shouts of sailors just outside.
Just as you sat up, the door busted open and you covered your body from the intruder, easing only a little when you realised it was your ragged, panting husband.
“Get up, woman! The ship’s sinking!”
He pulled you out of bed and you stumbled into the dresser as he frantically started tossing his belongings in his suitcase.
“I must find a lifeboat before these bastards take them all!”
He didn’t spare you any time to change or grab your own possessions before he snatched your wrist and pulled you out the door like another one of his belongings.
As you stumbled onto the deck, you could feel the cold wet air through your thin nightdress, the one he insisted you wore for him that night.
Previously stern sailors ran around like children, crying and shouting in hysterics. The ship let out a bone-chilling groan as the deck lurches to the side, tossing everyone on board with it.
Before you really had time to process all the commotion, you were shoved down into one of the lifeboats dangling off the side of the ship. If your husband noticed your cry of pain, he showed no sympathy, hastily sawing at the ropes tethering the lifeboat to the ship with his army knife.
Before he could jump in, another man reaches out from behind and wrenches him away from the lifeboat. Through the bleary lack of light, you watched them wrestle like animals before your husband managed to cut the last rope tethering your lifeboat to the ship, sending you plummeting down into the rough waves below.
The landing left your bones rattled and your head ringing, but you could barely register the pain with all the shouting and splashing and screaming and that damn bell.
The waves carried your boat further from the ship and you watched men jump from the deck, some swimming, some flailing in the water before being pulled into lifeboats.
You squinted up in the darkness just in time to make out your husband slashing his attacker's throat before jumping down into the churning waves.
The ship's side sunk further down, succumbing to the sea's call and you remembered the many times you begged your husband not to step foot on it. You remembered him laughing off your childish fears to boast about the strength and prowess of his precious ship.
As you stared at the spot of rippling water your husband disappeared under, a part of you hoped he'd never resurface. That he'd be pulled down into that great darkness along with his prized ship.
Maybe that's why you screamed when he splashed out of the water and over the side of your boat. His army knife clattered to the boat’s hull as he heaved.
“Pull me over!”
You could only stare at him in that moment, he sounded so desperate, like you've never heard him before.
He'd asked you to do so many things for him over the very short time you've known each other --and you'd done them; out of obligation, fear of punishment, desire to be wanted, any number of reasons you could come up with when you couldn't sleep-- but he'd never begged.
Seeing him like that, so unlike that man you thought you'd started to understand, it brought everything you knew about him and yourself back up from where you'd tried to bury it.
You thought of the hefty dowry he gave your parents in exchange for your life and the rushed wedding that followed. You thought of how he treated you on your wedding night just days ago and your future life with him if he managed to ship you back to his home like he wanted to.
These thoughts were so strong they crowded all logic into a small corner of your mind where you couldn't hear any of it; He's respected. He can help. You won't survive without him. None of it registered.
"Come on!"
A firm grip wrapped around your arm, almost pulling you out of the boat and into the water with him so you both might drown instead of just him.
You knew this opportunity would never present itself again and if you let it pass you might've never forgiven yourself.
So, you silently picked up his army knife and plunged the blade into his throat, as deep as it could go. You watched the shock and betrayal register on his face and you wanted so badly to know what he was thinking in that exact moment.
When he tried to scream, only pathetic choked gurgles came out and his struggling only got more pitiful every time you pulled the knife out and sank it back into his flesh. When he stopped flailing, you pushed him away from your boat and watched him grasp desperately at the water, salt burning his insides. Horrible sounds bubbled from his throat as he sank into the abyss. You watched him die without a hint of sympathy or regret.
It was so quiet for a moment, you watched the last little bubbles surface from the place your husband disappeared, and then the sound of men screaming for their lives jolted you back to the present.
One of the lifeboats tipped over, screams of the men onboard cut short by the waves. The moon was your only source of light as you witnessed each man, one by one, be dragged under the waves and replaced moments later by their unmoving bodies floating to the surface, a pool of red surrounding each of them.
It was then that you realised how deathly silent the night had become; no screaming, no splashing, no bell, just the slosh of waves and the metallic groans of a slowly sinking ship. Every other lifeboat had been tipped over, every other lamp smothered, and every other life had been snuffed out.
You laid back in your boat, blade clutched in your hands with nothing but the sloshing waves and the stars above to keep you company while you waited to die like every single man on board that damned ship.
﹏𓊝﹏
“Return only when every life and piece of treasure is taken. Failure is not an option. Do not disappoint me like your father.”
“Yes, grandfather.”
He spoke to the ground, head bowed in respect— and maybe the desire to save himself from having to stare at his grandfather’s grey, furrowed brows, piercing eyes and permanently set scowl.
“May the sea salt their wounds.”
Damian flicked his tail, swimming out of the great hall, towards his mission. His mother waited for him, her dark tail swishing a little faster than normal; a subtle show of stress. He didn't comment on it as she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“This is an important day, you’ve finally come of age and will prove yourself a rightful heir.”
He nodded his head, restrained and respectful. Talia sighed, brushing a hand through thick strands of hair.
“Your actions today will decide your future, Damian. Do what you believe is right.”
She hoped he could look into her eyes and see her intent, feel her gentle squeeze on his shoulder and know how much she loved him. All he did was give a solemn nod and she kissed his forehead before letting him set off on his journey.
He chose a bigger ship than necessary, a military ship, only soldiers on board. Land soldiers who kill, rape, pillage and enslave his kind and their own. It wasn't that bountiful in terms of treasure but sinking such a vessel to the bottom of the sea is a treasure in itself. It was more practical, he argued to himself, he’d lower their numbers and morale while also giving his people more opportunity to study their weaponry and naval capabilities.
He came up with so many arguments, but when he imagined explaining his reasoning to his grandfather, suddenly they all sounded like weak excuses.
He also thought that soldiers would pose more of a challenge to kill but he was wrong. They were like children, not a fighter among them.
Blood filled the water surrounding him and he resisted the urge to gag at the thick intrusion. He let it flow through his gills even if it made him want to retch, they say the Demon's Head revels in the taste.
He popped his head out of the water once more and all was silent. Behind him, the ship slowly sank further into his sea where it will stay for all eternity. Bodies littered the bobbing waves; useless trophies he got no sense of accomplishment from, yet when he saw the one lonesome lifeboat swaying sluggishly with the waves, he swam towards it. Every life, every piece of treasure.
He cut through the waves, dark, almost black scales blending seamlessly into the water. He clutched his dagger above his head, bringing it high to strike as he lifted himself over the side of the boat and froze the moment he saw what lay inside.
Not a man. Not a soldier. But definitely a life.
Clutching a bloody army knife to her chest, a woman stared back at him in horror. He knew what she saw, a demon wearing the visage of a man. A scaled monster with hate in its eyes.
He could see and smell the blood dripping from her blade, the dark bruises littering what he could see of her prickled skin. She was a captive.
He eyed her for a moment longer before slipping back into the water, cursing himself. His instructions were clear, every life but what if there was someone on board who was being forced to trespass in his seas? He gripped his dagger, the weight of it heavy in his hand.
He knew his grandfather wouldn’t hesitate like this; he would’ve killed her like the other land scum, a merciful fate, he'd call it. There's nothing he could do for a land woman stranded in the middle of the ocean and killing her now instead of letting her slowly die of dehydration would be merciful.
What about his mother? What would she do?
Do what you believe is right.
He groaned, sliding a hand through his hair as if that would rid him of his conscience. He slipped his dagger back into his holster, swimming over to the nearest body to plunder the man of his treasures. His inner argument continued; He couldn't save her because there was no land for hundreds of miles...except for the cave.
That thought made him pause while slipping another ring in his large pouch of treasures. He swam to the surface to squint up at the stars confirming his position and thus, tragically confirming what he must do.
He let out a defeated sigh. Despite his trying, despite all his grandfather's teachings, he would always be the son of Talia and Bruce, the star-crossed lovers whose love had haunted him his entire life.
He could kill her, he'd killed innocents before but now burdened with the knowledge that he could save her, he wasn't strong enough.
His father would probably argue that real strength is choosing to save a life when he’d surely be tried with treason if his grandfather found out. The thought made him let out a mirthful laugh as he grabbed onto the rope attached to the boat’s bow and pulled, he heard the woman yelp and tumble as the boat started moving at a pace faster than if four grown men paddled it along with oars.
﹏𓊝﹏
Panting only made your mouth dryer and rubbing your freezing hands down your arms only made the gooseflesh worsen.
The boat rocked and for a long while you just stared at your sticky red fingers, the metallic smell mixed with salt and mouldy wood.
You breathed it in and tried your best to relish in it before steadying yourself and crawling to the bow where you could see the creature.
It was even bigger than you thought. Its upper half looked almost human, except for the dark scales littering its shoulders and leaking down it’s back. Its unnaturally dark tail glistened in the pale light of the moon, revealing a green shine as it sliced through the water.
You felt the sea salt on your face as the boat sailed into the vast open waters and your heart sank further. You looked back at the ship behind you, the sound of its grinding metal and creaking hull faded into the distance, the bodies surrounding it becoming small, black dots bobbing in the water.
The grip on your knife loosened and you laid back down in the boat, trying to think of something better to do than just wait for whatever this creature had in store for you.
This monster was a man, you could clearly tell, his face might have even been handsome if not for those murderous dark eyes and sharp teeth. How cruel could fate be to let you escape one man just to be dragged away by an even more monstrous one.
There weren't many reasons you could think of as to why this monster would kill everyone on that ship except for the only woman on board, except for the obvious one.
Hot tears were a welcomed warmth on your freezing cheeks, your wet hair sending chills down your spine. You had no idea where you were, no way of calling for help and no way of knowing your captors' intentions.
At least you knew your husband wouldn’t have eaten you alive.
You laid your head on damp wood, staring at the knife in your hands. The smell of iron now only sending up a wave of nausea you had to swallow down with a sob.
The metal glinted in the pale light, taunting you as fatigue took hold, the steady rocking of the boat and the passing stars sank you into a shallow, restless sleep.
﹏𓊝﹏
As the sky turned purple, Damian slowed his glide to a halt. Though he’d been taught to swim entire oceans without rest since he was a child, he knew humans were not so resilient.
He popped his head out of the water, listening for any sounds of movement and when he heard none, he carefully peered over the side of the boat. His survivor was curled up in the boat’s protective belly, dress still damp and her breaths shallow like a restless sleep had taken hold.
She still clutched that tiny knife, a testament to the humans will or maybe just her fear. She would’ve had to be strong to survive as a lone woman on a ship full of heathen land men. She shivered in her sleep and his nails dug into the boat’s chipped wood, they didn’t even give her warm clothes, or much to cover herself with at all really. His eyes drifted to her legs, long and clumsy looking, and he noticed a bruise right above the ankle traveling up the shin, deep and swelling.
Slowly, tentatively, he reached a webbed hand out, his eyes flicking to her face before lightly brushing her ankle to examine the bruise closer.
Then the woman sprang up and stabbed her knife towards his hand, missing by an inch and instead slicing her own leg open. He retreated with a hiss and she screamed, clutching at the wound while trying to shuffle away from him, a ridiculous attempt seeing as she was trapped with nowhere to go because he had the entire ocean as his domain and she only had this tiny boat and her tiny knife...Oh.
He’d become the captor.
He blinked, his glare turning blank and his growl fading completely. He huffed, shoulders sagging in a way that made the woman’s eyebrows furrow even through her pain. Without another glance, Damian dived back into the water, heading down, down into the deep.
His mother always said that their mission of a better world wouldn’t have to involve hurting innocents, in fact their mission was to protect them from themselves and their own kind who sought to hurt them.
He scoffed as he sliced strands of seaweed from the seafloor. He always knew she told herself that so she wouldn’t have to contend with what her father had become, what he was trying to turn her and her son into.
After collecting and cleaning enough seaweed, he surfaced again, plopping all of it into the boat and beginning to line them up into neat strips. He side eyed the human, observing her distrustful glare but all his pretense was dropped when he caught sight of the bandage she'd sliced off her night dress and shoddily tied around her wound.
He was horrified and his face must have shown it because she was staring back at him with a bewildered look. He rustled around in one of his pouches and pulled out a little container, unscrewed the top and held it out to her.
She stared at it like it was poison, she probably thought it was. It took all his restraint not to just yank her leg overboard so he could fix it himself.
Instead, he took a breath and set the little jar on the floor of the boat. She watched as he dipped a finger in the jar and smeared some of the clear gel on one of the various scars on his arm.
She looked between him, the jar, then to her blood soaked "bandage".
After what looked like some intense deliberation, she grabbed the jar and very hesitantly put her knife down to untie her bandage. He watched as she cleaned the blood away with sea water, trying not to wince at the sting and slowly applied the gel, adding more and more as she felt the familiar burn of the medicine working.
When she was done, he adjusted himself to lean against the side of the boat, trying not to tip the whole damn thing over, and presented the makeshift bandage he made out of neatly cut, durable seaweed.
She looked skeptical and still a bit afraid but shuffled closer, extending her leg out to him. He set the seaweed down and reached out to cup the underside of her leg to start wrapping the thick kelp around her wound. He could see the way she stared at his hands, his webbed fingers, his short claws. It was obvious she'd never seen his kind before, probably only heard about them in stories.
Just when he was about done tying the ends together, she spoke.
“Why are you doing this?”
His eyes met hers and she didn't back away, they both stared like they could find answers in the other's eyes. He set her now bandaged leg down and didn't answer, watching her grow frustrated by his lack of conversation.
“Those men were innocent and you killed them. Why not me?”
He rests his shoulders against the side of the boat, squinting at her in a way he could tell was making her uncomfortable. Finally, he pointed towards where she set down her knife, the crusted dark red of her husband now covered in a fresh coat of her own blood.
She looked offended.
“That is not the same. I- I had a reason. You just-”
He blinked back at her, deadpan, and it seemed to make her angrier.
“They were innocent!”
His only answer was a resolute shake of his head and it seemed to stun her speechless. Suddenly, it was her gaze that made him uncomfortable and he slipped under the water with no further discussion.
“They had families! They-”
He ignored her, grabbing the rope at the front of the boat and tugging, hoping she'd think he couldn't hear her but she kept yelling.
“Where are you taking me? Why!?”
﹏𓊝﹏
The sun was right overhead now, beating down with precision. Your skin felt rubbery and hot to the touch, your stomach churned with acidic hunger.
He hadn’t stopped even once since that morning. You watched him swim and swim and swim like he was a machine stuck in a loop.
Eventually, your hunger overpowered any other feeling and you crawled to the front of the boat, wound your hands around the thick rope he'd been pulling all day and tugged hard.
No reaction.
“Hello!”
You had no idea if he could hear you under there so you tugged at the rope again as hard as you could.
The creature spun around and stuck his hands out, forcing the boat to a sudden stop. The force pushed you forward, almost falling into the water and right on top of the creature.
He watched you regain your balance, puffs of air leaving his nose, gills flaring in obvious exhaustion. You cleared your throat,
“I think that you should take a break...and I’m very hungry.”
He glared silently and you swear you saw him roll his eyes before diving down and out of sight.
A few long minutes of silence pass, only interrupted by your stomach, before you heard him break surface again. All your hunger and excitement was immediately forgotten when he plopped a huge writhing octopus right in your lap. You froze, then screamed.
“Get it off! Get it off! Get off of meee!”
The merman didn't move, keeping his arms crossed and his face straight all while you kicked and screamed, the slimy creature holding tight.
He only jumped into action when you grabbed your knife. He seized your hand and gave you a deadly serious look. You panicked and dropped the weapon, shrieking when the slimy things suckers latched onto your skin.
"Get it off right now!"
Finally, he reached for the writhing creature, gently and far too slowly pulling it off your lap as you whined at the gross feeling.
When he eventually got it off and let it swim away unharmed, he turned to you with a look that was so smug, you wanted to smack it right off his face, even if that would get your arm bitten off.
“I said fish!”
He shrugged, pointing towards where the octopus went.
“That was not a fish!”
You knew you might've been a bit hysterical, exhaustion and hunger clouding your judgement, but when he started laughing, you thought you might also be hallucinating.
It was a stupid hissed sound that came from his throat. You were so upset and embarrassed and angry, you didn't know what else to do but bend overboard and swipe water at his face as violently as possible like you were children playing in the community pool.
"What is wrong with you?! You kill people but not an octopus? Why not just kill me?!"
He stopped snickering and the sight spiked a little fear back into you. He was silent again, deathly so, and this time you didn't know how to feel when he sank back down into the water, disappearing again.
The quiet was torture, at least when you were moving there was the constant splash of waves as you skid by, now there was nothing. The skin on your shoulders felt like it would shrivel up if you touched it. You hid your face in your knees, at least giving some of your skin some shade.
A big, wet slap jolts you up and you look to your left to see a massive headless fish in the middle of your boat. When you tried to look for him, all you got was a jet of water sent right in your face.
You wiped the salt water from your eyes and glared at your assailant, who was also your maybe saviour so instead of cursing at him, you instead struggled out the words,
“Thank you.”
He nodded once, letting you know your appreciation was acceptable, and swam to the front of the boat with no further dramatics.
You'd never been so thirsty, resting your head on the side of the boat where you'd been watching the sea pass for hours. The raw fish was not sitting right, and you were only vaguely aware of the sky turning more orange than blue. You barely even noticed the boat coming to a sluggish stop.
Your head did lift a little when your saviour came into view. His eyes were squinted quizzically, eyebrows kitted together and you remember finding it funny that a fish man had eyebrows. Your dazed giggles made him tilt his head, you could almost see your reflection in his huge pupils. Your limp hand clumsily reached out and surprisingly, he didn’t bite your fingers off when they brushed against his cheek.
The feeling was strange, rough in one direction but smooth in the other. Your fingertips reached further and gently touched his webbed ears. He shook your hand away like he got a chill. Could he even get cold?
You were only vaguely aware that as you were taking in his features, he was doing the same to you. He had eyelashes, beautiful long eyelashes, what would he need those for? In the orange sunlight, his dark eyes had a green tint just like his tail and he had faint dark spots on his cheeks. His nose was a little crooked and his lips were a beautiful pink colour.
"Please don't eat me. You're so handsome."
His eyebrows only furrowed further in what looked like concern. He placed the back of his hand against your forehead and pulled at the skin around your eye to maybe examine your pupils? You let him because you guessed it was only fair that you also got prodded a little too.
“Where are you taking me?”
His glanced to the side and took your wrist with impressive softness.
“Atlantis?”
He let out an irritated huff and lifted your chin, turning your head to make you look up at the island right in front of you.
The gasp you let out stung your throat but your excitement overpowered the pain. You let out an exhausted laugh, looking between him and the island like you weren't sure either was real.
You squinted, using a hand to shade your eyes from the sun as he slowly brought you closer. There was a small port with a large ship docked near it and you could just barely make out the insignia on the ship’s sails. A bat.
There was someone in bright yellow in the bird's nest, they waved frantically down to their crew, pointing towards you. You leaned forward, trying to assess whether the ship was a pirate’s or maybe a repurposed naval ship?
A faint clicking sound emitted from beside you and you turned to face the merman. He looked a little solemn as he slowly reached for your hand and you let him take it.
You offered no resistance when he started to slip your wedding ring off your finger. It had no promise tied to it anymore, no solemn vow to keep, it was just expensive metal. He did it with more gentleness than the man who put it on you ever did.
Still holding your hand, he pointed towards where you'd dropped your knife, holding his hand out. You're still not sure what the purpose of this was. Maybe he was a merman pirate, maybe it was his way of relieving you of your old life for good but as you stared down at the blood-crusted blade, you found you didn't care and placed it in his hand.
He inspected it and placed it into his pouch, then he seemed to hesitate on what to do next. You looked from the shore to him and when he was about to retreat back into the water again, you reached out to wound your arms around his shoulders.
He was tense but didn't draw back, and you whispered your last words to him.
"Thank you."
You felt him nod against you and with one last lingering look, he swam to the back of your boat to push it closer to the ship. Just when you get close enough to properly make out the figures on the deck, your merman gave one last push and sent you off to drift closer as he floated stationary in the bobbing water. You couldn't help but look back.
His eyes were lifted upwards to the ship and you followed, catching a figure standing at the deck, broad and imposing. His eyes weren’t on you, but on the creature behind you. It was like a secret conversation and you wanted so badly to know the contents.
But when you looked back, your saviour was gone.
Nothing but a few ripples in the water to prove he was ever there at all.