Land and Sea
Title: Land and Sea
Rating: R, for some interspecies sexing
Summary: Ever since he was a child, Leonard has feared the sea. Then he meets a merman.
Warnings: Mer!Kirk, Interspecies sexing, Some magic
There are a few things about my mermaids that I wanted to explain. The first is the teeth. Jim has sharp, pointed teeth because his tribe of mermaids is essentially carnivorous - they survive on smaller fish and the like, largely because in the Northern waters that is their main source of nutrition. Mermaids living near the coral reefs are more varied in their diets, and do not have the sharp, pointy teeth of doom.
They communicate through song and telepathy because speaking isn't that efficient underwater. Words just sound garbled or indistinct, but mermaid ears are able to detect variations in songs. The telepathy is there for more specific purposes.
And because they are mammals, they have dolphin style sex. That seemed the most logical.
Thanks to anxiety_junkie for looking this over and not running screaming. ;)
David McCoy died when Leonard was only six years old, his ship torn open by one of the reefs that lay off of the northwest coast waiting to catch unsuspecting vessels off guard when the weather turned foul. The sound of the widows' keening permeated the village for two days, and it was easy for Leonard to slip out from under his mother's usually watchful eyes and go down to the harbor, where he stared out at the horizon trying to wish his father's ship into sailing home. It never came, though, and that was when he vowed that he would never be a sailor. The ocean was a treacherous, terrifying thing, and he knew even at that young age that he would never let himself fall prey to its clutches.
Annie McCoy didn't force him to spend his days down at the harbor, even when the other boys his age started to spend all their time with the fishermen helping to mend the nets and learning to read the signs of the wind and waves. She allowed him to spend his time with Father James instead, who taught him to read and write and, more important, which herbs could be used to bring down a fever or help staunch bleeding. James told him that he had an aptitude for learning, and Leonard could tell that his mother was proud of him when he accompanied the Father on his visits to the sick, or when he was called on to read passages from the Holy Book on Sunday. The wealth of the village might have come from fishing, but by the time he was fifteen Leonard had managed to carve out a place for himself, even if looking out at the endless expanse of gray-green water still filled him with unease and he never set foot on a ship if he could avoid it.
All of that changed, however, the summer after his sixteenth birthday.
He was in the tiny herb garden behind the church when he heard the cries of people running down to the harbor, their voices high and exited. He sat back on his heels and looked up at the sky - it was clear and blue, with the sun just shy of its zenith. It was too early for any of the fishing boats to be returning, and he couldn't think of what the commotion was. Not too much of note happened in their sleepy, isolated village.
"Hey, McCoy. McCoy!"
Leonard looked up and saw red-headed Tommy Stewart hoisted partway up onto the stone wall surrounding the church, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
"One of the boats just came back! They say she's caught a mermaid!"
"A what?"
"A mermaid! A real, live mermaid! So come on!" Tommy's head dropped out of sight and Leonard heard his feet pounding off into the distance. He sighed, then got to his feet, brushed the dirt off his trousers, and slipped through the wooden side gate, hurrying down the cobbled streets toward the harbor. He knew the legends, of course, about beautiful women with fishtails and enchanting voices, but he'd never really believed in them. The fishermen had probably just found some sort of strange new fish and didn't know what else to call it. It might still be worth a look, though.
It seemed that everyone in the village had the same idea and had all converged on the pier. Needless to say, it took a great deal of pushing and shoving to get close enough to the boat to see anything. Leonard could definitely hear something, though, a kind of high-pitched screeching that set his teeth on edge and made him want to cover his ears in an attempt to block it out. He figured any creature that produced such a ghastly sound had to be unspeakably ugly, and when he finally reached the front of the crowd he was expecting to see some kind of hideous monster.
The reality took his breath away.
Trapped in the coils of a tightly woven fishing net hanging off the side of the fishing boat was a mermaid. Or rather, Leonard amended as he moved a bit closer, a merman. The torso was unmistakably male, with the slim build of a young man about Leonard's age, only instead of legs there was a long fish tail whose scales shimmered silver and green when the light glanced off of it. It was strikingly beautiful, and Leonard stared at it wonder for a good minute or so before the incessant screeching drew his attention up to the merman's face.
It was that of a young man, pretty now but who would one day be called boyishly handsome, with dark blonde hair plastered against his head and bright blue eyes that reminded Leonard of the sea on days when the sky was clear and the sun was shining. Not a monster at all, he thought. Just a wild and marvelous creature who hated being caught up in that net.
As if in response to that thought the merman let out a particularly vehement screech, showing off a decidedly pointy set of teeth. Leonard gasped in shock and jerked backward, and the sudden movement was enough to catch the merman's attention.
The merman's head swiveled toward him, and their gazes locked. Leonard could see panic and fear in those blue, blue eyes, and in that moment the part of him that was first and foremost a healer could only see a trapped creature that desperately wanted to be free to return to his home. He took a step forward, not really sure what he was going to do, but knowing that he didn't want the poor creature's torment prolonged -
- and the people behind him decided he'd had enough time in a prime viewing spot and shoved him aside, leaving Leonard to be pushed to the back of the crowd in a matter of moments. There was no way he could manage to get back to the front now, so Leonard made his way slowly back toward the church, listening to the villagers' excited chatter as he went.
"Did you see those teeth? It must be true what the legends say, that the merfolk eat human flesh!"
"We ought to kill it. It's probably lured enough of our men to their deaths over the years."
"Those are the mermaids, silly!"
"I don't see how that matters. All merfolk are creatures of the devil."
Leonard kept his head down and walked onward, avoiding everyone's gaze so that he wouldn't be drawn into any conversations. He hadn't seen anything evil in the merman, pointed teeth or no. He was just young and scared, and didn't like being trapped in some fishing net when he was supposed to be swimming free. The look on his face had reminded Leonard of the way that rabbits looked when they were caught in snares, their eyes wild and breathing so hard that he could see the rapid rise and fall of their ribs. Whenever Annie made rabbit stew he'd eat around the pieces of meat and then give them to Lucy, their big wolfhound who curled up on his bed at night and licked his face whenever he walked in the door. He couldn't eat them himself, not when the poor creatures' terrified expressions were trapped in his head.
When he got back to the herb garden Father James was kneeling among the rows of neatly tended plants, his hands streaked with dirt. He looked up at his young assistant and smiled.
"Gone to see the marvel from the sea, I take it?"
Leonard nodded and went to join the Father, carefully pressing his fingers against the soil around the rosemary to see if they had enough water. After a moment he looked up at the older man's kindly face and decided that Father James would understand.
"Merfolk aren't evil, are they?"
Father James was silent but his eyes were thoughtful as he carefully cut stems of mint and laid them in his basket.
"No," he said finally. "I believe that they are as God made them to be. I do not know if the stories of them eating the flesh of men are true, or if they deliberately lure our sailors to their deaths. But do we blame the wolves for acting in accordance to their nature and killing the deer so that they can live? And can we claim to be so much better when we slaughter so many of our own kind?"
That was true enough. Leonard sat back on his heels and frowned unhappily.
"The villagers don't think that, though. They think it's evil, and that we ought to kill it."
"That would be unfortunate," said Father James mildly, "for whatever else it is, this creature is a rare and wondrous thing, and I do not think that killing it would bring anything other than ill luck."
"They don't think so," muttered Leonard, and the Father shook his head regretfully.
"I am afraid not." He looked up at the sky, clear and blue only an hour ago and now dark with approaching storm clouds. The wind had picked up as well, and Leonard shivered a bit in the chill. Father James got to his feet and nodded to him.
"You should get home, lad, before the storm hits. Your mother will want to know you're safe indoors."
Leonard nodded and with a polite goodbye ran back through the narrow streets to the small cottage he and his mother shared, ducking through the door only seconds before torrents of rain started to fall from the sky with a dramatic accompaniment of thunder and lightning. Annie pressed a mug of hot cider into his hands and set him to work chopping vegetables for dinner, keeping up a constant stream of chatter as she mixed biscuit dough.
" - and I went and saw the mer-creature, of course, surprising how lovely it is even with those teeth -"
Leonard listened to her with half an ear as he stared out of the tiny window at the sea. The weather made the waves look almost black as they crashed ominously against the shore, powerful and uncaring. He'd always feared the ocean most when the weather was violent, never forgetting that his father had died in just such a storm. He didn't miss the way Annie also glanced out the window from time to time, her face distant and sad, no doubt remembering the husband she'd lost.
"Do you know what the Council's decided to do with the merman?" asked Leonard as he tipped the pile of chopped potatoes and carrots into the stewpot, and Annie sighed.
"They think that killing it will bring bad luck, but for some unfathomable reason figure that keeping it in captivity will somehow guarantee good luck. They're going to build a pond for it starting tomorrow, and keep it there." She snorted and gave the dough a particularly vigorous punch. "A foolish notion, if you ask me. It's best to treat the sea and all of its creatures with respect."
Leonard nodded in agreement. The way he saw it, keeping the merman in captivity was the same as killing him - there was no way a wild creature who was used to living in something as vast as the ocean could adapt to the narrow confines of a pond. He'd seen things like that before, like with the injured fox that Stephen had brought home and tried to keep as a pet. It had refused to eat, and then died. He was sure that the same thing would happen to the merman.
The storm abated late that night after they'd crawled into bed, the crash of thunder and bright flashes of lightning giving way to the steady drumming of rain on the roof. Annie had dropped off some time ago, and Leonard could hear her deep, steady breathing from across the room. He very carefully got out of bed and pulled on his boots and overcoat, making sure to tuck his pocketknife inside. He held his breath as he slowly opened the door, slipped outside, and shut it behind him, careful not to let it slam. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, then set off for the pier.
He was nearly completely soaked in a matter of minutes and started to shiver in the cool night air. His footsteps slowed as he reached the harbor. Even in the darkness he could see the white tips of the waves as they crashed up against the shore, and he could hear the sea's roaring. The wooden walkways were slick with rain; just one false step and he'd fall into that freezing water and be washed away, never to be seen again -
He took a deep breath, focused on what he had come here to do, and stepped out onto the dock.
The fishing boat was still moored in the same place, and even over the sound of raindrops hitting the water Leonard could hear soft, pitiful screeches coming from the net attached firmly to its side. Leonard scrambled onto the boat, his stomach clenching in anxiety as he felt the boat rock back and forth with the waves. He made his way over to the gunwale at a near crawl, feeling for where the net was attached to the boat.
There it was. Leonard pulled his knife out and learned over the side, cutting into the heavy rope. It was hard work. His hands were numb with cold, and the rain made it difficult to get a firm grip on the knife. He could see the merman's pale face looking up at him, though, the screeching having given way to a soft sort of crooning as if he knew that Leonard was here to help him, and that gave him the determination to keep at it. He felt one strand give way, then two. Finally there was enough of a gap in the mesh for the merman to swim free, and Leonard heard a high, sweet sigh of relief as the creature slipped out of the net's coils and beneath the roiling waves.
Leonard peered down into the dark water, wondering if the merman had been hurt, and if he would be able to return to his home. For several heartbeats there was no sign of him, and Leonard figured that he was already making his way into the depths, never to be seen again. But just as he was about to retreat from the gunwale the merman reappeared, surging up out of the waves with his pale arms reaching toward Leonard.
Leonard leaned down to meet him, and cool fingers brushed against his cheeks. Leonard gasped as he suddenly felt the presence of someone else's thoughts twining around his own, bright and shining like quicksilver.
He'd been daring, swimming far closer to the human fishing grounds than his parents allowed him to when he felt the coils of the net tightening around him, sending him into a frenzy of anger and fear. Dragged back to this strange harbor that was shallow and tame, hoisted far enough out of the water so that he could be gawked at but no so far that he was in danger of dying, and he wanted to be free, free to swim back down into the ocean's depths and away from these humans with their staring eyes and loud, harsh voices...
...and then he'd seen a human, a young one, who had looked at him like he understood and who wanted to help him...
...and he had. He'd come back and set him free.
Leonard could feel the merman's gratitude, the joy at being able to swim freely through the water again, and the relief at no longer being caught up in that hateful net. The ecstasy he felt at being returned to the ocean was like a bubble in his chest, and Leonard couldn't help but laugh in delight at the sensation. The merman smiled in response, and with a last surge of reliefhappinessgratitude he dropped back beneath the waves.
Leonard let out his breath in a rush, still reeling from the experience. The rain was finally starting to taper off, and then all of a sudden the clouds broke to reveal a magnificent full moon, its light leaving a silver trail across the surface of the water. He got carefully out of the boat and stood for a moment at the end of the pier looking at the sight. The memory of the merman's joy was still lingering in his mind, and he thought that maybe the ocean was beautiful, after all.
As he watched, the merman suddenly leaped from the water in a graceful arc, his tail flipping as though waving goodbye. Leonard smiled and slowly made his way back home.
* * *
He thought that would be the end of it. Now that the merman was free, Leonard was sure that he would never see him again - the merman had doubtless learned to stay far away from the human settlements with their boats and nets and ideas about good and evil. Leonard knew it was for the best, but over the following weeks there were many times when he thought about how beautiful the merman had been, or how it had felt when their thoughts touched, and he felt a pang of regret.
Two months had gone by when he was summoned by the singing.
He was hiking through the meadow at the top of the cliffs that ran along the coast just north of the village when he heard it. It was faint at first, barely rising above the constant sound of the waves rolling into shore, but grew stronger and stronger until it was ringing through Leonard's mind, and all he could do was stand there spellbound and listen, his task of gathering bridewort to bring back to Father James forgotten.
He'd heard singing at the Sunday church services, of course, but this music was something completely different. It was haunting and otherworldly, and even though he couldn't understand the words the melody spoke to him of the yearning for things past and the ache of love lost and found. It was beautiful, though; so beautiful that Leonard felt that as much as listening to it made his heart grow heavy with sorrow, the thought of never hearing it again was worse.
He wasn't far from the part of the cliffs that had collapsed years ago to form a rocky path down to the water, and Leonard scrambled carelessly down the treacherous incline and hurried along the rocky shore, irresistibly drawn to that wild, eerie singing. After a minute or so the shore curved sharply inward to form a small cove where the water was calm and the cliffs rose high overhead. A few large rocks rose up out of the shallower water and perched on one of them was the merman, his head thrown back and his mouth opened wide in song.
He stopped when he saw Leonard, the last note of the song fading away into the sound of the waves. Leonard blinked as if waking up from a dream and stumbled backward until he hit the cliff wall, staring accusingly at the merman.
"You... you lured me here!" he said angrily, and the merman tilted his head as though confused, letting out a soft musical warble.
Leonard sighed. He had the feeling that the merman could understand him perfectly well, but it seemed that communication going the other way was a bit more difficult, with the merfolk expressing themselves through song and thought. He eyed the water hesitantly, then took off his boots, rolled his trousers up over his knees, and stepped carefully into the shallows, wading out toward the merman.
His trousers had of course gotten wet by the time he reached the rock and it was a bit awkward to hoist himself up next to its occupant, who was watching him with amused blue eyes. Leonard scowled at him.
"You can't manipulate me with your voice like that! It's... it's dangerous!"
The merman slapped his tail against the rock and raised his eyebrows. Leonard sighed.
"That's what you people do, isn't it? Sing your songs to lure the fishermen to their deaths, so that you can eat them."
The merman let out an indignant screech and slipped off the rock, only to slap the water hard enough with his tail to send a spray of moisture all over Leonard. Leonard coughed and sputtered and glared as the merman rolled over to look at him with angry blue eyes.
"What was that for?!?"
The merman pursed his lips and spewed a jet of seawater at Leonard's face.
"Fine! You explain, then!" He extended his hand in invitation, and the merman reached up and twined their fingers together.
There it was again, the spark of their thoughts brushing against each other. The merpeople certainly did not lure landfolk to their deaths; they simply liked to sing. It was hardly their fault that the sailors had never heard music like theirs before and were subsequently distracted. They also didn't care for the taste of human flesh - it was too heavy and full of fat, unlike the tender little fish they preferred. Although if they found the bodies of drowned men who had underestimated the sea, they did not let them go to waste. The ocean could be harsh, and they would not let a gift of food pass them by.
Leonard stared at him for a moment in horror. The merman flicked his tail impatiently, and Leonard could sense him wondering why that was so bad. Humans did the same, did they not? In lean months would they refuse to butcher an animal found dead of the cold?
Leonard had to admit that he had a point and felt a surge of smug satisfaction come from the merman. Leonard sighed and rolled his eyes.
"And the singing to bring me here?"
There was an immediate rush of consternation; the merman would never have done anything to hurt Leonard. He'd just wanted to see him again. Leonard had helped him, after all, and the merman was curious about him. Wasn't he curious, too?
He was, really. No use in denying that.
"I suppose I am." Leonard grinned, tentative and shy. "I'm Leonard, so you know."
The merman uttered some long string of syllables that started with ji and ended in a throaty murmur. There was no way Leonard would ever be able to pronounce that, and judging from the merman's amused expression, he knew it, too. Leonard rolled his eyes.
"I'm just going to call you Jim, then."
Jim smiled, giving Leonard a good look at those sharp teeth. This time, however, they weren't alarming. They were just part of Jim, strange and marvelous creature that he was.
Leonard smiled back and said hesitantly,
"The singing was nice, you know. You could sing some more, if you want."
Jim's eyes sparkled and his voice rose up above the waves, pure and haunting. Leonard laid back on the sun-warmed rock with his face tilted up to the sky and closed his eyes.
He let the sound of the singing carry him away.
* * *
They struck up a friendship after that. Leonard would go down to the cove every Saturday when the sun was at its zenith and Jim would be waiting for him, sunbathing on their rock with his tail sparkling in the sunshine. Later on when the seasons started to change and it became too cold for Leonard to wade out through the frigid water, Jim swam in closer to shore where the jutting rocks created a deep pool. That way they could still touch, letting their thoughts flow back and forth and learning everything there was to know about each other.
Leonard saw what it was like to live beneath the waves, where the currents caressed his skin and tugged at his hair as he swam among schools of little silver fish and dove down among the forests of sea plants that grew on the ocean floor. He could feel the exultation that swept through Jim's body whenever he rose to the surface far from the shore where the waves were high and wild and he could leap among them, completely free and unfettered. It sent an answering thrill of joy through him, even stronger than the fear of the sea he'd carried with him for most of his life.
In return Leonard showed Jim his life on land. He gave him lazy summer afternoons sprawled out on his back in the middle of the meadow with the sun beating down on him surrounded by the heady scent of blooming wildflowers, and digging in the rich dark earth as he planted herbs. He gave him the triumph he felt whenever he saw a sick person recover, and how much he loved poring over Father James' rare and precious books, not only in English, but Greek and Latin as well. He gave him warm mulled cider on dark winter nights and cool spring water on hot afternooons, and he could feel Jim's wonder and curiosity pulsing through his mind.
They might never have had a conversation in the traditional sense of the word, but Leonard thought Jim was the best friend he'd ever had.
Little by little, Leonard started to make his peace with the sea. He didn't feel so nervous staring out at the endless horizon when Jim was sprawled next to him on their rock with his fins lightly brushing against Leonard's calves, and he eventually started to make short trips on the fishing boats on those days when the sun was shining brightly and the sea was calm. There were times when he would look over the side of the boat and see a shadowy figure with a long silvery tail swimming through the water just off of the stern, and he knew that Jim was watching over him. That knowledge calmed him, made him feel safe. Nothing would happen to him while Jim could help it.
There were times when he looked out across the deep emerald water and thought that he could understand why the ocean called out to so many.
When he told that to Jim, the merman smiled and reached up to brush his fingers lightly against Leonard's cheek.
* * *
If the first great change in Leonard's life had been setting Jim free, the second was giving Jim his blood.
The winter that Leonard turned nineteen was a difficult one for the village. That year's catch had not been a bountiful one, and while they had enough tubers and grain set aside that they wouldn't outright starve, all of the villagers learned to live with hunger pains constantly gnawing at their bellies. Leonard had never appreciated the taste of salt cod as much as during that winter, when a single small piece was the only bit of flavor in a water broth that held just a few pieces of rutabaga and turnip.
He hadn't really given any thought to how the merfolk were faring. He'd assumed that they were fine, able to dive into the depths where there was surely plenty of food, and therefore unaffected by famine. So it was a surprise that when he made his way to the cove one cold Saturday in January when the sea was slate gray and the waves were choppy and rough he noticed that Jim looked pale and listless, and the shimmering colors of his tail seemed somehow muted.
"Jim," he said, kneeling at the edge of the pool and tugging his woolen glove down just far enough so that Jim could curl his slender fingers around his wrist. "What's wrong? If I didn't know better I'd say you were freezing."
They'd known each other for years by that point, and in past winters Leonard had noticed how Jim was unaffected by the cold. Even when Leonard had to bundle himself up in layers of heavy winter clothing Jim was always perfectly at ease, untroubled by temperatures that would kill an unprotected human. But now he looked...washed out, like he was wasting away.
Their minds twined around each other and Leonard felt hunger, hunger just as intense as what the villagers were going through. He frowned.
"There are no fish? You can't find any?"
Not enough; it had been a bad year with strange weather, and the shoals were depleted. The merfolk could not eat as much as they needed, knowing that they needed to leave enough fish so that they would once again be abundant in future years. They ate the sea plants, of course, but they weren't sufficient, and they were all hungry, so hungry...
Leonard was a healer. It wasn't in his nature to let someone suffer when it was in his power to help them, much less when that someone was his friend. And so he didn't hesitate to pull his glove part-way off to reveal the veins in his wrist, tilting it slightly in invitation.
He felt Jim's fingers tremble slightly where they rested against the skin and he grinned at the merman, trying not to show any of the nervousness he felt at the idea of letting Jim drink from him.
"I remember you said you eat the flesh or sailors, when there's nothing else. I mean, I'm not saying you can just eat me, but maybe the blood will help...?"
He'd barely finished speaking before Jim's teeth were sinking into his wrist. He gasped a bit at the initial sting, but it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as he'd thought it would - those things were sharp. And after a moment he couldn't think at all because he was so caught up in Jim's pleasure at how good it tasted, the blood flowing into his mouth and down his throat and he needed this, needed this, needed this...
Leonard could feel his blood being dragged out of his veins and into Jim's mouth; a strange sensation, like he was being hollowed out and yet filled at the same time. The link with Jim let him feel the merman's strength starting to return with each swallow, and it felt good. He'd always had a rush when he saw people recovering gradually from a fever or chill thanks to the healing droughts he administered, but this was immediate and dramatic and so, so satisfying, to know that he was the cause of the renewed vitality he could feel surging through their bond.
Jim lifted his mouth away from Leonard's bleeding wrist and flicked his tongue out over his lips to catch the last red drops of blood. He still looked more wan than Leonard would have liked, but it was clear that Leonard's gift had helped him immensely. He looked less faded, and there was a bit more sparkle to his eyes. Leonard reached out and traced his eyebrow gently, and Jim's answering smile warmed him all the way to his bones.
In a move almost too quick to follow, Jim reached up to pull Leonard face's close enough so that their lips met in a brief, chaste kiss. Before Leonard had time to react the merman slipped back into the water and was speeding away, the fins of his tail shining briefly in the sun before he dove beneath the waves.
Leonard pressed his gloved fingers against his lips and stared after him, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.
* * *
There were changes after that.
The first was that Jim no longer needed to be touching Leonard's skin for them to sense each others' minds, something that had been a bit disconcerting at first, but after a while Leonard started to find it comforting. It wasn't that he felt lonely - he had plenty of friends among the villagers and never lacked for company - but he'd never quite fit in with the village, his love of learning and medicine not quite conforming with a culture that preferred a simple of life of tradition. It was nice to have someone who could understand him effortlessly and without the need for awkward verbalization, even if there were times when he could sense a note of sadness coming from Jim whenever he thought about leaving the village and going inland to one of the large universities where he could continue his studies.
The second was that Leonard couldn't stop thinking about their kiss.
Jim was a beautiful creature. Leonard had known that ever since the first time he'd seen him struggling in the fishing net. But even more than his body, Leonard was attracted by Jim's mind. It didn't matter that Jim was merfolk and Leonard was human - a brilliant mind was a brilliant mind, and whenever he saw how Jim could read the patterns in the nacre of seashells and speak to the whales, predict where the fish would shoal and how to sing magic, Leonard could see that even among his own people Jim shone. He was bright and intelligent and thirsty for knowledge, and Leonard loved that about him, loved it when their thoughts twined around each other and they understood each other so clearly. It was beautiful.
It made him wish more than anything that Jim was human, because Leonard was smart enough to know that a connection like the one they had was a rare gift, and if they lived in the same world... only they didn't, and that was that. It was an impossible dream.
So when Father James told him excitedly that one of his old friends from seminary was willing to sponsor Leonard at the large university in the capital, Leonard decided to accept the opportunity.
Telling his mother and his friends was easy. Annie wept, of course, and told him that she'd miss him terribly but that she was proud, so proud, and that his father would surely feel the same. His friends clasped his forearm and told him that they wished him well, then dragged him down to the tavern for a pint of ale. He felt sad at the prospect of leaving them, but that was balanced by his anticipation for the challenges that lay ahead. They had always expected him to leave, anyway. All of them knew that this had been a long time coming.
It was saying goodbye to Jim that was the most painful.
When he went down to the cove for the last time Jim was on their rock facing away from Leonard, his shoulders tight with tension. He knew what Leonard was going to say, of course, having sensed it through their bond, and Leonard could feel how upset and agitated he was. He hesitated for a moment before pulling his boots off and wading out to the merman, climbing up next to him and settling hesitantly against his side.
"I have to go, you know," he said softly. "I want to be a healer. I'll never learn everything there is to know about that if I stay here my whole life."
He felt a deep wave of sorrow from Jim. He understood, of course, but Leonard would be going so far from the ocean, so far from Jim, and that was wrong because they were bound together and should never be so far apart.
"But I'm human, Jim," said Leonard softly. "And you're a merman. We were always going to be apart."
Jim screeched and slipped down from the rock, diving beneath the waves. Leonard gasped aloud at the surge of pain and betrayal coming through the bond, so sharp and intense that it was difficult to see. It took a few second for his vision to clear, and when it did Jim was staring at him from a few feet away, his blue eyes dark and unreadable.
"Jim," said Leonard pleadingly. "You think I wouldn't be with you if I could? I want that so much, but..." His voice trailed off and he just gazed back at Jim, begging him silently to understand.
After a minute Jim extended his hand, and Leonard slipped down from the rock and waded out to him, twining their fingers together once he was close enough to touch. From there it was easy to lean forward into a kiss that was as natural as breathing. It might have only been their second time doing this, but the bond between them made it easy to know exactly how to tilt their heads and how hard Jim could bite down before those sharp teeth broke skin. It also told Leonard that Jim was sensitive where his two halves merged, and when he reached down to run his fingers over the place where soft skin gave way to slick scales he felt Jim shudder as his fingers tightened in Leonard's hair.
He let his fingers drift lower, curious. The scales felt good against his fingers, smooth and silky and not really as strange as he'd thought they would. He could feel Jim's pleasure at his touch rolling through his mind and became bolder, running his fingers gently against the opening he could feel slightly below Jim's belly.
Jim shuddered and tore his mouth away from Leonard's to let out a soft croon, and Leonard carefully stepped backward until he felt the rock behind him, not trusting himself to stand on his own just now. The instant he felt the solid support beneath his back he went back to kissing and licking at Jim's neck, his fingers still exploring that narrow slit and the flesh he could feel starting to protrude from it. He supposed that on some level it was strange, but at the same time it felt perfectly familiar. This was Jim, after all, who was his closest friend and with whom he shared a unique, indescribable bond, and nothing about his body was repulsive. And it wasn't so different, really. Leonard could tell from the noises Jim was making and the way he shifted against him that what he was doing felt good, and when Jim closed his eyes and tilted his back while he trembled all over, it was beautiful.
"Feel good?" asked Leonard just a little smugly when Jim looked at him again, and Jim rolled his eyes before tugging at Leonard's clothes, trying to get him naked as quickly as possible.
It was a warm day and the sun was high overhead, so Leonard was willing enough to strip out of his already sodden clothes and toss them up on the rock. He'd barely turned around again before Jim had slipped almost completely underwater except for his hands, which were resting lightly against Leonard's waist.
He gasped when he felt Jim's mouth wrap carefully around him, warm in the coolness of the surrounding water, and his hips jerked instinctively forward. The contrast felt really, really good, and it didn't take long before he was coming hard into Jim's mouth.
Jim's head reemerged, his lips curved up into a smug smile and his blue eyes sparkling. Leonard laughed breathlessly.
"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that."
In one of those lightning fast movements of his Jim tugged him forward and wrapped his tail snugly around Leonard's legs. It was a bit disconcerting to feel his feet leave the sandy bottom, but Jim's arms were tight around him, and after a moment Leonard let himself relax. Jim would never let anything happen to him. And it felt good to kiss him like this, when he was weightless and free and the waves were lapping gently at his skin. The sun was warm and the water was the perfect temperature, cool but not cold, and Leonard would have been happy to spend hours like this.
Only he couldn't because with one last, lingering kiss Jim pulled away and slipped beneath the waves, leaving nothing but an echo of overwhelming sadness in Leonard's mind. Leonard waited at the beach until the cove was immersed in twilight, but Jim never came back, and he finally made his way back toward the village with his heart heavy in his chest.
He heard Jim's singing that night, lonely and mournful, and when he watched the sun rise over the ocean the next morning he realized that he'd miss it more than he'd ever thought possible.
That didn't stop him from leaving, however.
* * *
After twenty-two years of living in a small fishing village on the northern coast, the capital was more than a little overwhelming. It was also incredibly exciting. Just as soon as he'd dropped his tiny bundle of possessions off in the garret he was renting Leonard plunged headfirst into the labyrinthine streets of the students' quarter and didn't crawl into his bed for two days.
There was just so much to see. There were immense cathedrals whose intricately carved spires thrust up toward the heavens, houses crammed so close together that they had to share walls; markets bursting with colorful displays of fruits, vegetables, and freshly-butchered meat; and so many people - men in elaborate powdered wigs and black robes, women in elegant silk gowns with low-cut bodices, and of course the street urchins with their grimy faces and ragged clothes and hands thrust outward in the hopes of receiving change. There was so much color and movement and noise that his eyes ached from trying to take all of it in at once. Of course just when he was starting to regain an equilibrium in his new home he began to attend classes, and the university was yet another marvel.
He hadn't quite realized just how thirsty he was for knowledge until he had the chance to learn as much as he wanted. He rushed from lecture to lecture, always sure to arrive early so that he wouldn't miss so much as a minute, and listened intently to the discussions on the circulation of blood and the tell-tale signs of various diseases, absorbing it all eagerly. Then there was the library, a treasure trove of shelves upon shelves of books that contained a wealth of learning for him to discover. He was happy to while away entire afternoons reading through the precious tomes in an attempt to make up for all the years he hadn't had access to this kind of wealth, oblivious to everything around him.
Five months passed without him even realizing it.
There came a moment, though, when his new and exciting world started to crack. He was making his way back to his lodgings late one night after carousing with his fellow students, and the light of the full moon was shimmering gently on the dark waters of the river that bisected the city. He stopped for a moment to look at it, head tilted to the side. He supposed it was a pretty sight - not beautiful, the way the moon had looked the night he set Jim free, but peaceful and lovely just the same.
His head was a little bit fuzzy from all of the wine, and his feet hurt from walking. It would be nice to sit and rest for a moment. He made his way down the stone steps to the waterline and tugged off his boots, submerging them into the cool water with a sigh of relief. He tilted his head up to the night sky and closed his eyes, feeling tired and happy and overall just very content.
After a moment, though, he could hear the notes of a song, distant but unmistakable. It was haunting and heartbreakingly beautiful, speaking of love and loss and the yearning for home.
He would know that voice anywhere.
Leonard lurched to his feet and stared down the winding path of shimmering water. He knew that the river eventually flowed out into the sea, to Jim's home, and he suddenly wished that he could plunge into the river and just let the current sweep him away, back toward his friend. He hadn't really thought much about Jim since he came to the city, and their bond was little more than a whisper in the back of his mind, easily ignored and forgotten about. He felt a deep pang of guilt. How could he have gotten so caught up in his new world that he hadn't even spared a thought for what he'd left behind?
"Jim," he whispered, and thought he heard that distant voice waver just a bit as a faint curl of loneliness rippled deep inside his consciousness.
"Jim, I'm sorry. I'll come back to you. Just give me a little more time, all right? There's still so much I want to learn. Just a little longer, that's all."
The final plaintive note of the song faded away into silence, and Leonard closed his eyes against the sudden wave of homesickness. He'd go back to the village next year, perhaps, visit his mother and Father James. Make his way to the cove and curl up with Jim on their rock, exchanging lazy kisses while the sun shone overhead...
He made his way slowly back to the garret, the warm and happy glow brought on by good wine and good company draining away to leave him tired and sad and wanting to go home.
But as it turned out, he would never make it home. Because that spring the plague swept through the city.
* * *
Leonard had never seen sickness like that before. Whenever someone in the village fell ill it was a simple matter to keep them quarantined until the infection passed, thereby preventing it from spreading beyond any individual household. Here in the crowded capital, however, it was impossible to contain the disease. Within days a miasma of fear and despair had settled over the city, the sound of pitiful moans and pained coughing seeming to emerge from every house. People no longer greeted each other on the street, but hurried past with their eyes down and their mouths set in grim lines, the fear of death a palpable presence hanging over them.
Leonard didn't hide behind closed doors in the hope that he would be spared. Instead he gathered his courage and went out among the sick, bringing the afflicted what aid and comfort he could. He didn't flinch away from the sight of blood and pus and vomit, just continued to go from door to door and tend to the plague's victims until he himself was struck by fever.
Leonard knew that it would be only a matter of days until he died. Maybe a week, if he was lucky. He wouldn't have time to make it to his village, but the coast might be within reach. With a strength borne of desperation, Leonard made his way to the city limits and forced his way into a stable, then managed to clamber onto one of the horses and point it in the right direction. What followed was a delirious ride to the coast where it was all he could do to stay astride his mount and try to breathe through the pain of his aching body. By the time he heard the gentle roar of the sea his breath was coming in short, labored gasps and his clothes were drenched with sweat. It took an incredible effort to slide off of the horse's back and stumble into the water. The shock of cold felt good and he sank to his knees, letting the waves wash over his shoulders. He was so tired, and he just wanted to close his eyes and let himself slip beneath the waves, where it was cool and peaceful and he could just rest for a while.
His lips parted in a sigh as a wave washed over him and tugged him out, further and further away from shore.
It was over.
* * *
When he opened his eyes again he still ached all over, but he didn't feel like he was burning up. A soft voice was singing quietly in his ear, and strong fingers stroked through his hair in a gentle, soothing gesture. He shifted slightly and groaned as the movement sent stabbing pains all throughout his body, and he felt cool arms and a limber tail curl protectively around him.
He wasn't surprised that when he cracked his eyes open he saw Jim staring down at him, his blue eyes dark and sorrowful. He reached up and brushed his fingers against Jim's cheek.
"Sorry," he gasped, and he could feel Jim's grief washing through him, bright and hot. "So sorry."
Jim's stared at him for a moment, his fingers trailing down to brush lightly over Leonard's lips. Then he lifted his own wrist to his mouth and bit down hard enough to draw blood, staining his lips bright red. He offered his wrist to Leonard, his gaze dark and intense.
Leonard knew immediately what was being offered, and he only hesitated for a second before he fastened his lips around the wound and drank deeply of Jim's blood. He drank until Jim pulled his wrist away and wrapped Leonard tightly in his arms and his tail as they sank beneath the waves, his voice soothing Leonard through the pain of transformation.
And when it was done he had a beautiful tail of his own that shimmered a deep blue, and he, too, could breathe beneath the waves. He looked at Jim and sang his joy at being here with him, able to be together beneath the waves. He could feel Jim's answering jubilation, and they gently twined their tails together as their lips met.
* * *
After that there was no reason for Leonard to fear the sea. Where it had once been full of frightening unknowns, it was now full of beauty. It was his home, and when he leaped through the waves under a full moon with Jim at his side he felt no anxiety, only a fierce joy pulsing through his veins.
And whenever he kissed Jim and felt that soul deep connection leap between them, bright and shining, he knew that he had always been meant for this. He'd always been meant to be here, with Jim, beneath the waves.
He'd just taken a long time realize that. But dammed if it wasn't worth the wait.
Rating: R, for some interspecies sexing
Summary: Ever since he was a child, Leonard has feared the sea. Then he meets a merman.
Warnings: Mer!Kirk, Interspecies sexing, Some magic
There are a few things about my mermaids that I wanted to explain. The first is the teeth. Jim has sharp, pointed teeth because his tribe of mermaids is essentially carnivorous - they survive on smaller fish and the like, largely because in the Northern waters that is their main source of nutrition. Mermaids living near the coral reefs are more varied in their diets, and do not have the sharp, pointy teeth of doom.
They communicate through song and telepathy because speaking isn't that efficient underwater. Words just sound garbled or indistinct, but mermaid ears are able to detect variations in songs. The telepathy is there for more specific purposes.
And because they are mammals, they have dolphin style sex. That seemed the most logical.
Thanks to anxiety_junkie for looking this over and not running screaming. ;)
David McCoy died when Leonard was only six years old, his ship torn open by one of the reefs that lay off of the northwest coast waiting to catch unsuspecting vessels off guard when the weather turned foul. The sound of the widows' keening permeated the village for two days, and it was easy for Leonard to slip out from under his mother's usually watchful eyes and go down to the harbor, where he stared out at the horizon trying to wish his father's ship into sailing home. It never came, though, and that was when he vowed that he would never be a sailor. The ocean was a treacherous, terrifying thing, and he knew even at that young age that he would never let himself fall prey to its clutches.
Annie McCoy didn't force him to spend his days down at the harbor, even when the other boys his age started to spend all their time with the fishermen helping to mend the nets and learning to read the signs of the wind and waves. She allowed him to spend his time with Father James instead, who taught him to read and write and, more important, which herbs could be used to bring down a fever or help staunch bleeding. James told him that he had an aptitude for learning, and Leonard could tell that his mother was proud of him when he accompanied the Father on his visits to the sick, or when he was called on to read passages from the Holy Book on Sunday. The wealth of the village might have come from fishing, but by the time he was fifteen Leonard had managed to carve out a place for himself, even if looking out at the endless expanse of gray-green water still filled him with unease and he never set foot on a ship if he could avoid it.
All of that changed, however, the summer after his sixteenth birthday.
He was in the tiny herb garden behind the church when he heard the cries of people running down to the harbor, their voices high and exited. He sat back on his heels and looked up at the sky - it was clear and blue, with the sun just shy of its zenith. It was too early for any of the fishing boats to be returning, and he couldn't think of what the commotion was. Not too much of note happened in their sleepy, isolated village.
"Hey, McCoy. McCoy!"
Leonard looked up and saw red-headed Tommy Stewart hoisted partway up onto the stone wall surrounding the church, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
"One of the boats just came back! They say she's caught a mermaid!"
"A what?"
"A mermaid! A real, live mermaid! So come on!" Tommy's head dropped out of sight and Leonard heard his feet pounding off into the distance. He sighed, then got to his feet, brushed the dirt off his trousers, and slipped through the wooden side gate, hurrying down the cobbled streets toward the harbor. He knew the legends, of course, about beautiful women with fishtails and enchanting voices, but he'd never really believed in them. The fishermen had probably just found some sort of strange new fish and didn't know what else to call it. It might still be worth a look, though.
It seemed that everyone in the village had the same idea and had all converged on the pier. Needless to say, it took a great deal of pushing and shoving to get close enough to the boat to see anything. Leonard could definitely hear something, though, a kind of high-pitched screeching that set his teeth on edge and made him want to cover his ears in an attempt to block it out. He figured any creature that produced such a ghastly sound had to be unspeakably ugly, and when he finally reached the front of the crowd he was expecting to see some kind of hideous monster.
The reality took his breath away.
Trapped in the coils of a tightly woven fishing net hanging off the side of the fishing boat was a mermaid. Or rather, Leonard amended as he moved a bit closer, a merman. The torso was unmistakably male, with the slim build of a young man about Leonard's age, only instead of legs there was a long fish tail whose scales shimmered silver and green when the light glanced off of it. It was strikingly beautiful, and Leonard stared at it wonder for a good minute or so before the incessant screeching drew his attention up to the merman's face.
It was that of a young man, pretty now but who would one day be called boyishly handsome, with dark blonde hair plastered against his head and bright blue eyes that reminded Leonard of the sea on days when the sky was clear and the sun was shining. Not a monster at all, he thought. Just a wild and marvelous creature who hated being caught up in that net.
As if in response to that thought the merman let out a particularly vehement screech, showing off a decidedly pointy set of teeth. Leonard gasped in shock and jerked backward, and the sudden movement was enough to catch the merman's attention.
The merman's head swiveled toward him, and their gazes locked. Leonard could see panic and fear in those blue, blue eyes, and in that moment the part of him that was first and foremost a healer could only see a trapped creature that desperately wanted to be free to return to his home. He took a step forward, not really sure what he was going to do, but knowing that he didn't want the poor creature's torment prolonged -
- and the people behind him decided he'd had enough time in a prime viewing spot and shoved him aside, leaving Leonard to be pushed to the back of the crowd in a matter of moments. There was no way he could manage to get back to the front now, so Leonard made his way slowly back toward the church, listening to the villagers' excited chatter as he went.
"Did you see those teeth? It must be true what the legends say, that the merfolk eat human flesh!"
"We ought to kill it. It's probably lured enough of our men to their deaths over the years."
"Those are the mermaids, silly!"
"I don't see how that matters. All merfolk are creatures of the devil."
Leonard kept his head down and walked onward, avoiding everyone's gaze so that he wouldn't be drawn into any conversations. He hadn't seen anything evil in the merman, pointed teeth or no. He was just young and scared, and didn't like being trapped in some fishing net when he was supposed to be swimming free. The look on his face had reminded Leonard of the way that rabbits looked when they were caught in snares, their eyes wild and breathing so hard that he could see the rapid rise and fall of their ribs. Whenever Annie made rabbit stew he'd eat around the pieces of meat and then give them to Lucy, their big wolfhound who curled up on his bed at night and licked his face whenever he walked in the door. He couldn't eat them himself, not when the poor creatures' terrified expressions were trapped in his head.
When he got back to the herb garden Father James was kneeling among the rows of neatly tended plants, his hands streaked with dirt. He looked up at his young assistant and smiled.
"Gone to see the marvel from the sea, I take it?"
Leonard nodded and went to join the Father, carefully pressing his fingers against the soil around the rosemary to see if they had enough water. After a moment he looked up at the older man's kindly face and decided that Father James would understand.
"Merfolk aren't evil, are they?"
Father James was silent but his eyes were thoughtful as he carefully cut stems of mint and laid them in his basket.
"No," he said finally. "I believe that they are as God made them to be. I do not know if the stories of them eating the flesh of men are true, or if they deliberately lure our sailors to their deaths. But do we blame the wolves for acting in accordance to their nature and killing the deer so that they can live? And can we claim to be so much better when we slaughter so many of our own kind?"
That was true enough. Leonard sat back on his heels and frowned unhappily.
"The villagers don't think that, though. They think it's evil, and that we ought to kill it."
"That would be unfortunate," said Father James mildly, "for whatever else it is, this creature is a rare and wondrous thing, and I do not think that killing it would bring anything other than ill luck."
"They don't think so," muttered Leonard, and the Father shook his head regretfully.
"I am afraid not." He looked up at the sky, clear and blue only an hour ago and now dark with approaching storm clouds. The wind had picked up as well, and Leonard shivered a bit in the chill. Father James got to his feet and nodded to him.
"You should get home, lad, before the storm hits. Your mother will want to know you're safe indoors."
Leonard nodded and with a polite goodbye ran back through the narrow streets to the small cottage he and his mother shared, ducking through the door only seconds before torrents of rain started to fall from the sky with a dramatic accompaniment of thunder and lightning. Annie pressed a mug of hot cider into his hands and set him to work chopping vegetables for dinner, keeping up a constant stream of chatter as she mixed biscuit dough.
" - and I went and saw the mer-creature, of course, surprising how lovely it is even with those teeth -"
Leonard listened to her with half an ear as he stared out of the tiny window at the sea. The weather made the waves look almost black as they crashed ominously against the shore, powerful and uncaring. He'd always feared the ocean most when the weather was violent, never forgetting that his father had died in just such a storm. He didn't miss the way Annie also glanced out the window from time to time, her face distant and sad, no doubt remembering the husband she'd lost.
"Do you know what the Council's decided to do with the merman?" asked Leonard as he tipped the pile of chopped potatoes and carrots into the stewpot, and Annie sighed.
"They think that killing it will bring bad luck, but for some unfathomable reason figure that keeping it in captivity will somehow guarantee good luck. They're going to build a pond for it starting tomorrow, and keep it there." She snorted and gave the dough a particularly vigorous punch. "A foolish notion, if you ask me. It's best to treat the sea and all of its creatures with respect."
Leonard nodded in agreement. The way he saw it, keeping the merman in captivity was the same as killing him - there was no way a wild creature who was used to living in something as vast as the ocean could adapt to the narrow confines of a pond. He'd seen things like that before, like with the injured fox that Stephen had brought home and tried to keep as a pet. It had refused to eat, and then died. He was sure that the same thing would happen to the merman.
The storm abated late that night after they'd crawled into bed, the crash of thunder and bright flashes of lightning giving way to the steady drumming of rain on the roof. Annie had dropped off some time ago, and Leonard could hear her deep, steady breathing from across the room. He very carefully got out of bed and pulled on his boots and overcoat, making sure to tuck his pocketknife inside. He held his breath as he slowly opened the door, slipped outside, and shut it behind him, careful not to let it slam. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, then set off for the pier.
He was nearly completely soaked in a matter of minutes and started to shiver in the cool night air. His footsteps slowed as he reached the harbor. Even in the darkness he could see the white tips of the waves as they crashed up against the shore, and he could hear the sea's roaring. The wooden walkways were slick with rain; just one false step and he'd fall into that freezing water and be washed away, never to be seen again -
He took a deep breath, focused on what he had come here to do, and stepped out onto the dock.
The fishing boat was still moored in the same place, and even over the sound of raindrops hitting the water Leonard could hear soft, pitiful screeches coming from the net attached firmly to its side. Leonard scrambled onto the boat, his stomach clenching in anxiety as he felt the boat rock back and forth with the waves. He made his way over to the gunwale at a near crawl, feeling for where the net was attached to the boat.
There it was. Leonard pulled his knife out and learned over the side, cutting into the heavy rope. It was hard work. His hands were numb with cold, and the rain made it difficult to get a firm grip on the knife. He could see the merman's pale face looking up at him, though, the screeching having given way to a soft sort of crooning as if he knew that Leonard was here to help him, and that gave him the determination to keep at it. He felt one strand give way, then two. Finally there was enough of a gap in the mesh for the merman to swim free, and Leonard heard a high, sweet sigh of relief as the creature slipped out of the net's coils and beneath the roiling waves.
Leonard peered down into the dark water, wondering if the merman had been hurt, and if he would be able to return to his home. For several heartbeats there was no sign of him, and Leonard figured that he was already making his way into the depths, never to be seen again. But just as he was about to retreat from the gunwale the merman reappeared, surging up out of the waves with his pale arms reaching toward Leonard.
Leonard leaned down to meet him, and cool fingers brushed against his cheeks. Leonard gasped as he suddenly felt the presence of someone else's thoughts twining around his own, bright and shining like quicksilver.
He'd been daring, swimming far closer to the human fishing grounds than his parents allowed him to when he felt the coils of the net tightening around him, sending him into a frenzy of anger and fear. Dragged back to this strange harbor that was shallow and tame, hoisted far enough out of the water so that he could be gawked at but no so far that he was in danger of dying, and he wanted to be free, free to swim back down into the ocean's depths and away from these humans with their staring eyes and loud, harsh voices...
...and then he'd seen a human, a young one, who had looked at him like he understood and who wanted to help him...
...and he had. He'd come back and set him free.
Leonard could feel the merman's gratitude, the joy at being able to swim freely through the water again, and the relief at no longer being caught up in that hateful net. The ecstasy he felt at being returned to the ocean was like a bubble in his chest, and Leonard couldn't help but laugh in delight at the sensation. The merman smiled in response, and with a last surge of reliefhappinessgratitude he dropped back beneath the waves.
Leonard let out his breath in a rush, still reeling from the experience. The rain was finally starting to taper off, and then all of a sudden the clouds broke to reveal a magnificent full moon, its light leaving a silver trail across the surface of the water. He got carefully out of the boat and stood for a moment at the end of the pier looking at the sight. The memory of the merman's joy was still lingering in his mind, and he thought that maybe the ocean was beautiful, after all.
As he watched, the merman suddenly leaped from the water in a graceful arc, his tail flipping as though waving goodbye. Leonard smiled and slowly made his way back home.
* * *
He thought that would be the end of it. Now that the merman was free, Leonard was sure that he would never see him again - the merman had doubtless learned to stay far away from the human settlements with their boats and nets and ideas about good and evil. Leonard knew it was for the best, but over the following weeks there were many times when he thought about how beautiful the merman had been, or how it had felt when their thoughts touched, and he felt a pang of regret.
Two months had gone by when he was summoned by the singing.
He was hiking through the meadow at the top of the cliffs that ran along the coast just north of the village when he heard it. It was faint at first, barely rising above the constant sound of the waves rolling into shore, but grew stronger and stronger until it was ringing through Leonard's mind, and all he could do was stand there spellbound and listen, his task of gathering bridewort to bring back to Father James forgotten.
He'd heard singing at the Sunday church services, of course, but this music was something completely different. It was haunting and otherworldly, and even though he couldn't understand the words the melody spoke to him of the yearning for things past and the ache of love lost and found. It was beautiful, though; so beautiful that Leonard felt that as much as listening to it made his heart grow heavy with sorrow, the thought of never hearing it again was worse.
He wasn't far from the part of the cliffs that had collapsed years ago to form a rocky path down to the water, and Leonard scrambled carelessly down the treacherous incline and hurried along the rocky shore, irresistibly drawn to that wild, eerie singing. After a minute or so the shore curved sharply inward to form a small cove where the water was calm and the cliffs rose high overhead. A few large rocks rose up out of the shallower water and perched on one of them was the merman, his head thrown back and his mouth opened wide in song.
He stopped when he saw Leonard, the last note of the song fading away into the sound of the waves. Leonard blinked as if waking up from a dream and stumbled backward until he hit the cliff wall, staring accusingly at the merman.
"You... you lured me here!" he said angrily, and the merman tilted his head as though confused, letting out a soft musical warble.
Leonard sighed. He had the feeling that the merman could understand him perfectly well, but it seemed that communication going the other way was a bit more difficult, with the merfolk expressing themselves through song and thought. He eyed the water hesitantly, then took off his boots, rolled his trousers up over his knees, and stepped carefully into the shallows, wading out toward the merman.
His trousers had of course gotten wet by the time he reached the rock and it was a bit awkward to hoist himself up next to its occupant, who was watching him with amused blue eyes. Leonard scowled at him.
"You can't manipulate me with your voice like that! It's... it's dangerous!"
The merman slapped his tail against the rock and raised his eyebrows. Leonard sighed.
"That's what you people do, isn't it? Sing your songs to lure the fishermen to their deaths, so that you can eat them."
The merman let out an indignant screech and slipped off the rock, only to slap the water hard enough with his tail to send a spray of moisture all over Leonard. Leonard coughed and sputtered and glared as the merman rolled over to look at him with angry blue eyes.
"What was that for?!?"
The merman pursed his lips and spewed a jet of seawater at Leonard's face.
"Fine! You explain, then!" He extended his hand in invitation, and the merman reached up and twined their fingers together.
There it was again, the spark of their thoughts brushing against each other. The merpeople certainly did not lure landfolk to their deaths; they simply liked to sing. It was hardly their fault that the sailors had never heard music like theirs before and were subsequently distracted. They also didn't care for the taste of human flesh - it was too heavy and full of fat, unlike the tender little fish they preferred. Although if they found the bodies of drowned men who had underestimated the sea, they did not let them go to waste. The ocean could be harsh, and they would not let a gift of food pass them by.
Leonard stared at him for a moment in horror. The merman flicked his tail impatiently, and Leonard could sense him wondering why that was so bad. Humans did the same, did they not? In lean months would they refuse to butcher an animal found dead of the cold?
Leonard had to admit that he had a point and felt a surge of smug satisfaction come from the merman. Leonard sighed and rolled his eyes.
"And the singing to bring me here?"
There was an immediate rush of consternation; the merman would never have done anything to hurt Leonard. He'd just wanted to see him again. Leonard had helped him, after all, and the merman was curious about him. Wasn't he curious, too?
He was, really. No use in denying that.
"I suppose I am." Leonard grinned, tentative and shy. "I'm Leonard, so you know."
The merman uttered some long string of syllables that started with ji and ended in a throaty murmur. There was no way Leonard would ever be able to pronounce that, and judging from the merman's amused expression, he knew it, too. Leonard rolled his eyes.
"I'm just going to call you Jim, then."
Jim smiled, giving Leonard a good look at those sharp teeth. This time, however, they weren't alarming. They were just part of Jim, strange and marvelous creature that he was.
Leonard smiled back and said hesitantly,
"The singing was nice, you know. You could sing some more, if you want."
Jim's eyes sparkled and his voice rose up above the waves, pure and haunting. Leonard laid back on the sun-warmed rock with his face tilted up to the sky and closed his eyes.
He let the sound of the singing carry him away.
* * *
They struck up a friendship after that. Leonard would go down to the cove every Saturday when the sun was at its zenith and Jim would be waiting for him, sunbathing on their rock with his tail sparkling in the sunshine. Later on when the seasons started to change and it became too cold for Leonard to wade out through the frigid water, Jim swam in closer to shore where the jutting rocks created a deep pool. That way they could still touch, letting their thoughts flow back and forth and learning everything there was to know about each other.
Leonard saw what it was like to live beneath the waves, where the currents caressed his skin and tugged at his hair as he swam among schools of little silver fish and dove down among the forests of sea plants that grew on the ocean floor. He could feel the exultation that swept through Jim's body whenever he rose to the surface far from the shore where the waves were high and wild and he could leap among them, completely free and unfettered. It sent an answering thrill of joy through him, even stronger than the fear of the sea he'd carried with him for most of his life.
In return Leonard showed Jim his life on land. He gave him lazy summer afternoons sprawled out on his back in the middle of the meadow with the sun beating down on him surrounded by the heady scent of blooming wildflowers, and digging in the rich dark earth as he planted herbs. He gave him the triumph he felt whenever he saw a sick person recover, and how much he loved poring over Father James' rare and precious books, not only in English, but Greek and Latin as well. He gave him warm mulled cider on dark winter nights and cool spring water on hot afternooons, and he could feel Jim's wonder and curiosity pulsing through his mind.
They might never have had a conversation in the traditional sense of the word, but Leonard thought Jim was the best friend he'd ever had.
Little by little, Leonard started to make his peace with the sea. He didn't feel so nervous staring out at the endless horizon when Jim was sprawled next to him on their rock with his fins lightly brushing against Leonard's calves, and he eventually started to make short trips on the fishing boats on those days when the sun was shining brightly and the sea was calm. There were times when he would look over the side of the boat and see a shadowy figure with a long silvery tail swimming through the water just off of the stern, and he knew that Jim was watching over him. That knowledge calmed him, made him feel safe. Nothing would happen to him while Jim could help it.
There were times when he looked out across the deep emerald water and thought that he could understand why the ocean called out to so many.
When he told that to Jim, the merman smiled and reached up to brush his fingers lightly against Leonard's cheek.
* * *
If the first great change in Leonard's life had been setting Jim free, the second was giving Jim his blood.
The winter that Leonard turned nineteen was a difficult one for the village. That year's catch had not been a bountiful one, and while they had enough tubers and grain set aside that they wouldn't outright starve, all of the villagers learned to live with hunger pains constantly gnawing at their bellies. Leonard had never appreciated the taste of salt cod as much as during that winter, when a single small piece was the only bit of flavor in a water broth that held just a few pieces of rutabaga and turnip.
He hadn't really given any thought to how the merfolk were faring. He'd assumed that they were fine, able to dive into the depths where there was surely plenty of food, and therefore unaffected by famine. So it was a surprise that when he made his way to the cove one cold Saturday in January when the sea was slate gray and the waves were choppy and rough he noticed that Jim looked pale and listless, and the shimmering colors of his tail seemed somehow muted.
"Jim," he said, kneeling at the edge of the pool and tugging his woolen glove down just far enough so that Jim could curl his slender fingers around his wrist. "What's wrong? If I didn't know better I'd say you were freezing."
They'd known each other for years by that point, and in past winters Leonard had noticed how Jim was unaffected by the cold. Even when Leonard had to bundle himself up in layers of heavy winter clothing Jim was always perfectly at ease, untroubled by temperatures that would kill an unprotected human. But now he looked...washed out, like he was wasting away.
Their minds twined around each other and Leonard felt hunger, hunger just as intense as what the villagers were going through. He frowned.
"There are no fish? You can't find any?"
Not enough; it had been a bad year with strange weather, and the shoals were depleted. The merfolk could not eat as much as they needed, knowing that they needed to leave enough fish so that they would once again be abundant in future years. They ate the sea plants, of course, but they weren't sufficient, and they were all hungry, so hungry...
Leonard was a healer. It wasn't in his nature to let someone suffer when it was in his power to help them, much less when that someone was his friend. And so he didn't hesitate to pull his glove part-way off to reveal the veins in his wrist, tilting it slightly in invitation.
He felt Jim's fingers tremble slightly where they rested against the skin and he grinned at the merman, trying not to show any of the nervousness he felt at the idea of letting Jim drink from him.
"I remember you said you eat the flesh or sailors, when there's nothing else. I mean, I'm not saying you can just eat me, but maybe the blood will help...?"
He'd barely finished speaking before Jim's teeth were sinking into his wrist. He gasped a bit at the initial sting, but it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as he'd thought it would - those things were sharp. And after a moment he couldn't think at all because he was so caught up in Jim's pleasure at how good it tasted, the blood flowing into his mouth and down his throat and he needed this, needed this, needed this...
Leonard could feel his blood being dragged out of his veins and into Jim's mouth; a strange sensation, like he was being hollowed out and yet filled at the same time. The link with Jim let him feel the merman's strength starting to return with each swallow, and it felt good. He'd always had a rush when he saw people recovering gradually from a fever or chill thanks to the healing droughts he administered, but this was immediate and dramatic and so, so satisfying, to know that he was the cause of the renewed vitality he could feel surging through their bond.
Jim lifted his mouth away from Leonard's bleeding wrist and flicked his tongue out over his lips to catch the last red drops of blood. He still looked more wan than Leonard would have liked, but it was clear that Leonard's gift had helped him immensely. He looked less faded, and there was a bit more sparkle to his eyes. Leonard reached out and traced his eyebrow gently, and Jim's answering smile warmed him all the way to his bones.
In a move almost too quick to follow, Jim reached up to pull Leonard face's close enough so that their lips met in a brief, chaste kiss. Before Leonard had time to react the merman slipped back into the water and was speeding away, the fins of his tail shining briefly in the sun before he dove beneath the waves.
Leonard pressed his gloved fingers against his lips and stared after him, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.
* * *
There were changes after that.
The first was that Jim no longer needed to be touching Leonard's skin for them to sense each others' minds, something that had been a bit disconcerting at first, but after a while Leonard started to find it comforting. It wasn't that he felt lonely - he had plenty of friends among the villagers and never lacked for company - but he'd never quite fit in with the village, his love of learning and medicine not quite conforming with a culture that preferred a simple of life of tradition. It was nice to have someone who could understand him effortlessly and without the need for awkward verbalization, even if there were times when he could sense a note of sadness coming from Jim whenever he thought about leaving the village and going inland to one of the large universities where he could continue his studies.
The second was that Leonard couldn't stop thinking about their kiss.
Jim was a beautiful creature. Leonard had known that ever since the first time he'd seen him struggling in the fishing net. But even more than his body, Leonard was attracted by Jim's mind. It didn't matter that Jim was merfolk and Leonard was human - a brilliant mind was a brilliant mind, and whenever he saw how Jim could read the patterns in the nacre of seashells and speak to the whales, predict where the fish would shoal and how to sing magic, Leonard could see that even among his own people Jim shone. He was bright and intelligent and thirsty for knowledge, and Leonard loved that about him, loved it when their thoughts twined around each other and they understood each other so clearly. It was beautiful.
It made him wish more than anything that Jim was human, because Leonard was smart enough to know that a connection like the one they had was a rare gift, and if they lived in the same world... only they didn't, and that was that. It was an impossible dream.
So when Father James told him excitedly that one of his old friends from seminary was willing to sponsor Leonard at the large university in the capital, Leonard decided to accept the opportunity.
Telling his mother and his friends was easy. Annie wept, of course, and told him that she'd miss him terribly but that she was proud, so proud, and that his father would surely feel the same. His friends clasped his forearm and told him that they wished him well, then dragged him down to the tavern for a pint of ale. He felt sad at the prospect of leaving them, but that was balanced by his anticipation for the challenges that lay ahead. They had always expected him to leave, anyway. All of them knew that this had been a long time coming.
It was saying goodbye to Jim that was the most painful.
When he went down to the cove for the last time Jim was on their rock facing away from Leonard, his shoulders tight with tension. He knew what Leonard was going to say, of course, having sensed it through their bond, and Leonard could feel how upset and agitated he was. He hesitated for a moment before pulling his boots off and wading out to the merman, climbing up next to him and settling hesitantly against his side.
"I have to go, you know," he said softly. "I want to be a healer. I'll never learn everything there is to know about that if I stay here my whole life."
He felt a deep wave of sorrow from Jim. He understood, of course, but Leonard would be going so far from the ocean, so far from Jim, and that was wrong because they were bound together and should never be so far apart.
"But I'm human, Jim," said Leonard softly. "And you're a merman. We were always going to be apart."
Jim screeched and slipped down from the rock, diving beneath the waves. Leonard gasped aloud at the surge of pain and betrayal coming through the bond, so sharp and intense that it was difficult to see. It took a few second for his vision to clear, and when it did Jim was staring at him from a few feet away, his blue eyes dark and unreadable.
"Jim," said Leonard pleadingly. "You think I wouldn't be with you if I could? I want that so much, but..." His voice trailed off and he just gazed back at Jim, begging him silently to understand.
After a minute Jim extended his hand, and Leonard slipped down from the rock and waded out to him, twining their fingers together once he was close enough to touch. From there it was easy to lean forward into a kiss that was as natural as breathing. It might have only been their second time doing this, but the bond between them made it easy to know exactly how to tilt their heads and how hard Jim could bite down before those sharp teeth broke skin. It also told Leonard that Jim was sensitive where his two halves merged, and when he reached down to run his fingers over the place where soft skin gave way to slick scales he felt Jim shudder as his fingers tightened in Leonard's hair.
He let his fingers drift lower, curious. The scales felt good against his fingers, smooth and silky and not really as strange as he'd thought they would. He could feel Jim's pleasure at his touch rolling through his mind and became bolder, running his fingers gently against the opening he could feel slightly below Jim's belly.
Jim shuddered and tore his mouth away from Leonard's to let out a soft croon, and Leonard carefully stepped backward until he felt the rock behind him, not trusting himself to stand on his own just now. The instant he felt the solid support beneath his back he went back to kissing and licking at Jim's neck, his fingers still exploring that narrow slit and the flesh he could feel starting to protrude from it. He supposed that on some level it was strange, but at the same time it felt perfectly familiar. This was Jim, after all, who was his closest friend and with whom he shared a unique, indescribable bond, and nothing about his body was repulsive. And it wasn't so different, really. Leonard could tell from the noises Jim was making and the way he shifted against him that what he was doing felt good, and when Jim closed his eyes and tilted his back while he trembled all over, it was beautiful.
"Feel good?" asked Leonard just a little smugly when Jim looked at him again, and Jim rolled his eyes before tugging at Leonard's clothes, trying to get him naked as quickly as possible.
It was a warm day and the sun was high overhead, so Leonard was willing enough to strip out of his already sodden clothes and toss them up on the rock. He'd barely turned around again before Jim had slipped almost completely underwater except for his hands, which were resting lightly against Leonard's waist.
He gasped when he felt Jim's mouth wrap carefully around him, warm in the coolness of the surrounding water, and his hips jerked instinctively forward. The contrast felt really, really good, and it didn't take long before he was coming hard into Jim's mouth.
Jim's head reemerged, his lips curved up into a smug smile and his blue eyes sparkling. Leonard laughed breathlessly.
"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that."
In one of those lightning fast movements of his Jim tugged him forward and wrapped his tail snugly around Leonard's legs. It was a bit disconcerting to feel his feet leave the sandy bottom, but Jim's arms were tight around him, and after a moment Leonard let himself relax. Jim would never let anything happen to him. And it felt good to kiss him like this, when he was weightless and free and the waves were lapping gently at his skin. The sun was warm and the water was the perfect temperature, cool but not cold, and Leonard would have been happy to spend hours like this.
Only he couldn't because with one last, lingering kiss Jim pulled away and slipped beneath the waves, leaving nothing but an echo of overwhelming sadness in Leonard's mind. Leonard waited at the beach until the cove was immersed in twilight, but Jim never came back, and he finally made his way back toward the village with his heart heavy in his chest.
He heard Jim's singing that night, lonely and mournful, and when he watched the sun rise over the ocean the next morning he realized that he'd miss it more than he'd ever thought possible.
That didn't stop him from leaving, however.
* * *
After twenty-two years of living in a small fishing village on the northern coast, the capital was more than a little overwhelming. It was also incredibly exciting. Just as soon as he'd dropped his tiny bundle of possessions off in the garret he was renting Leonard plunged headfirst into the labyrinthine streets of the students' quarter and didn't crawl into his bed for two days.
There was just so much to see. There were immense cathedrals whose intricately carved spires thrust up toward the heavens, houses crammed so close together that they had to share walls; markets bursting with colorful displays of fruits, vegetables, and freshly-butchered meat; and so many people - men in elaborate powdered wigs and black robes, women in elegant silk gowns with low-cut bodices, and of course the street urchins with their grimy faces and ragged clothes and hands thrust outward in the hopes of receiving change. There was so much color and movement and noise that his eyes ached from trying to take all of it in at once. Of course just when he was starting to regain an equilibrium in his new home he began to attend classes, and the university was yet another marvel.
He hadn't quite realized just how thirsty he was for knowledge until he had the chance to learn as much as he wanted. He rushed from lecture to lecture, always sure to arrive early so that he wouldn't miss so much as a minute, and listened intently to the discussions on the circulation of blood and the tell-tale signs of various diseases, absorbing it all eagerly. Then there was the library, a treasure trove of shelves upon shelves of books that contained a wealth of learning for him to discover. He was happy to while away entire afternoons reading through the precious tomes in an attempt to make up for all the years he hadn't had access to this kind of wealth, oblivious to everything around him.
Five months passed without him even realizing it.
There came a moment, though, when his new and exciting world started to crack. He was making his way back to his lodgings late one night after carousing with his fellow students, and the light of the full moon was shimmering gently on the dark waters of the river that bisected the city. He stopped for a moment to look at it, head tilted to the side. He supposed it was a pretty sight - not beautiful, the way the moon had looked the night he set Jim free, but peaceful and lovely just the same.
His head was a little bit fuzzy from all of the wine, and his feet hurt from walking. It would be nice to sit and rest for a moment. He made his way down the stone steps to the waterline and tugged off his boots, submerging them into the cool water with a sigh of relief. He tilted his head up to the night sky and closed his eyes, feeling tired and happy and overall just very content.
After a moment, though, he could hear the notes of a song, distant but unmistakable. It was haunting and heartbreakingly beautiful, speaking of love and loss and the yearning for home.
He would know that voice anywhere.
Leonard lurched to his feet and stared down the winding path of shimmering water. He knew that the river eventually flowed out into the sea, to Jim's home, and he suddenly wished that he could plunge into the river and just let the current sweep him away, back toward his friend. He hadn't really thought much about Jim since he came to the city, and their bond was little more than a whisper in the back of his mind, easily ignored and forgotten about. He felt a deep pang of guilt. How could he have gotten so caught up in his new world that he hadn't even spared a thought for what he'd left behind?
"Jim," he whispered, and thought he heard that distant voice waver just a bit as a faint curl of loneliness rippled deep inside his consciousness.
"Jim, I'm sorry. I'll come back to you. Just give me a little more time, all right? There's still so much I want to learn. Just a little longer, that's all."
The final plaintive note of the song faded away into silence, and Leonard closed his eyes against the sudden wave of homesickness. He'd go back to the village next year, perhaps, visit his mother and Father James. Make his way to the cove and curl up with Jim on their rock, exchanging lazy kisses while the sun shone overhead...
He made his way slowly back to the garret, the warm and happy glow brought on by good wine and good company draining away to leave him tired and sad and wanting to go home.
But as it turned out, he would never make it home. Because that spring the plague swept through the city.
* * *
Leonard had never seen sickness like that before. Whenever someone in the village fell ill it was a simple matter to keep them quarantined until the infection passed, thereby preventing it from spreading beyond any individual household. Here in the crowded capital, however, it was impossible to contain the disease. Within days a miasma of fear and despair had settled over the city, the sound of pitiful moans and pained coughing seeming to emerge from every house. People no longer greeted each other on the street, but hurried past with their eyes down and their mouths set in grim lines, the fear of death a palpable presence hanging over them.
Leonard didn't hide behind closed doors in the hope that he would be spared. Instead he gathered his courage and went out among the sick, bringing the afflicted what aid and comfort he could. He didn't flinch away from the sight of blood and pus and vomit, just continued to go from door to door and tend to the plague's victims until he himself was struck by fever.
Leonard knew that it would be only a matter of days until he died. Maybe a week, if he was lucky. He wouldn't have time to make it to his village, but the coast might be within reach. With a strength borne of desperation, Leonard made his way to the city limits and forced his way into a stable, then managed to clamber onto one of the horses and point it in the right direction. What followed was a delirious ride to the coast where it was all he could do to stay astride his mount and try to breathe through the pain of his aching body. By the time he heard the gentle roar of the sea his breath was coming in short, labored gasps and his clothes were drenched with sweat. It took an incredible effort to slide off of the horse's back and stumble into the water. The shock of cold felt good and he sank to his knees, letting the waves wash over his shoulders. He was so tired, and he just wanted to close his eyes and let himself slip beneath the waves, where it was cool and peaceful and he could just rest for a while.
His lips parted in a sigh as a wave washed over him and tugged him out, further and further away from shore.
It was over.
* * *
When he opened his eyes again he still ached all over, but he didn't feel like he was burning up. A soft voice was singing quietly in his ear, and strong fingers stroked through his hair in a gentle, soothing gesture. He shifted slightly and groaned as the movement sent stabbing pains all throughout his body, and he felt cool arms and a limber tail curl protectively around him.
He wasn't surprised that when he cracked his eyes open he saw Jim staring down at him, his blue eyes dark and sorrowful. He reached up and brushed his fingers against Jim's cheek.
"Sorry," he gasped, and he could feel Jim's grief washing through him, bright and hot. "So sorry."
Jim's stared at him for a moment, his fingers trailing down to brush lightly over Leonard's lips. Then he lifted his own wrist to his mouth and bit down hard enough to draw blood, staining his lips bright red. He offered his wrist to Leonard, his gaze dark and intense.
Leonard knew immediately what was being offered, and he only hesitated for a second before he fastened his lips around the wound and drank deeply of Jim's blood. He drank until Jim pulled his wrist away and wrapped Leonard tightly in his arms and his tail as they sank beneath the waves, his voice soothing Leonard through the pain of transformation.
And when it was done he had a beautiful tail of his own that shimmered a deep blue, and he, too, could breathe beneath the waves. He looked at Jim and sang his joy at being here with him, able to be together beneath the waves. He could feel Jim's answering jubilation, and they gently twined their tails together as their lips met.
* * *
After that there was no reason for Leonard to fear the sea. Where it had once been full of frightening unknowns, it was now full of beauty. It was his home, and when he leaped through the waves under a full moon with Jim at his side he felt no anxiety, only a fierce joy pulsing through his veins.
And whenever he kissed Jim and felt that soul deep connection leap between them, bright and shining, he knew that he had always been meant for this. He'd always been meant to be here, with Jim, beneath the waves.
He'd just taken a long time realize that. But dammed if it wasn't worth the wait.