Chapter Text
The sun was beginning to set, casting a soft orange glow across the horizon. Stanley was hunched over the engine, his hands caked in grease as he fiddled with a stubborn bolt. He muttered to himself in frustration, twisting the wrench in a way that only made the situation worse.
Fiddleford hovered nearby, watching closely, his glasses perched on his nose. He’d been silent for a while now, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. After a moment, he gestured toward the toolbox, his fingers moving with quick precision.
‘Need a hand?’
Stanley glanced up, a little surprised.
“You know anything about engines?”
Fiddleford hesitated for just a second, then nodded, a flicker of confidence in his expression.
‘I used to work on… other things.’ His hands moved more fluidly now, his signs with more care and precision than in the early days. ‘Boats. Machines. Things that fell into the waters’
Stanley raised an eyebrow, his hand pausing mid-turn.
“Wait, you’re telling me you know how to fix boats?”
Fiddleford’s smile was a little sheepish, but his hands were steady as he signed.
‘Not just boats. Used to build stuff. Small machines, weapons. To defend myself.’ He paused, his fingers curling slightly ‘Since I didn't had a group, I had to find my way around stuff’
Stanley sat back on his heels, staring at Fiddleford
“Weapons? What, like harpoons and stuff?”
Fiddleford nodded, his hands moving with ease as he continued.
‘Traps. Anything that could help. I worked alone for a long time. Couldn’t trust anyone.’ His gaze softened for a moment, a small, vulnerable look passing over his face.
Stanley looked down at the engine, then back at Fiddleford.
“Damn, Fidds. I didn’t know you could do all that.”
Fiddleford gave a small shrug, a hint of pride in his eyes.
‘Had to survive. But… I learnt a lot. I can help you, if you want me to.’
Stanley grinned, the edge of surprise still in his voice.
“Looks like I got myself a handy mermaid.” He gestured toward the engine again. “Alright, give me a hand with this thing. I think it’s stuck.”
Fiddleford moved closer, his fingers working quickly and confidently as he examined the engine. With surprising expertise, he tightened a few loose bolts and adjusted the wiring. Stanley watched, impressed by the way he worked—delicate, precise, like it was second nature to him.
After a few moments, Fiddleford swam back, a satisfied look on his face.
‘Try it now.’
Stanley hesitated before turning the ignition. The engine sputtered to life, its hum steady and strong.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Stanley muttered under his breath. “You really know what you’re doin’, don’t you?”
Fiddleford smiled, but it was a quiet, humble expression. Stanley looked at him, a soft smile tugging at his lips too. Their gaze met and Fiddleford's eyes glinted with something deeper now. Stanley felt his heart give an unexpected leap that he ignored.
‘Group’ Fiddleford signed
“Group? Huh, yeah” Stanley said with a smile “Guess we make a good team, huh?”
Fiddleford nodded, his tail flicking in the water beneath him.
‘Best team. No one else.’
------
The waves gently lapped against the boat, the air felt calm, almost intimate, as if the world around them had softened. Stanley and Fiddleford were at the edge of the ship, their gazes drawn to the horizon where the sun was slowly sinking beneath the water.
Fiddleford’s gaze drifted to Stanley’s face, his heart aching with something he didn’t have the words for. He moved closer, his movements quiet and slow, like a cat inching toward its favorite spot. Stanley felt the shift in the air, and for a moment, he allowed himself to turn slightly, his gaze meeting Fiddleford’s. Their eyes locked, a flicker of something passing between them—both of them aware of what was building in the space between them. Stanley’s heart hammered in his chest, his breath catching as the temptation to lean in, to close the gap, nearly overtook him. But doubts held him back. He quickly turned away, his face flushed with uncertainty.
Fiddleford, too, seemed hesitant, but he couldn’t quite hold himself back. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and he placed it gently in Stanley’s. The soft contact was enough to make Stanley look back, his heart thumping in his chest as he met Fiddleford’s eyes. His cheeks reddened, a heat spreading over him at the unexpected touch.
Then Fiddleford did something that took Stanley completely by surprise. He leaned in slowly, nudging his head against Stanley’s in an affectionate gesture, like a cat seeking comfort. He lingered there, his head resting lightly on Stanley’s shoulder, rubbing softly against his neck in a tender, almost needy way. Stanley felt a shiver run down his spine, his breath catching at the closeness. His heart was racing now, a mixture of warmth and fear of the unexpected swirling inside him.
Fiddleford pulled away just enough to look Stanley in the eye. His expression was soft, and his lips parted as if to speak, but only a faint, broken sound emerged—a sound that didn’t even come close to the words he longed to say.
Fiddleford’s face crumpled, the pain of his silence hitting him harder than he could handle. He looked down at the water, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears. His fingers curled into his palms, fists trembling as the reality of his limitations weighed down on him. He wanted to tell Stanley how much he cared, how deeply he felt for him, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. All he had were broken words, and empty gestures.
He used to be so much more, so eloquent, so good at expressing himself through poems and songs he would sing for everyone to hear.
Stanley watched him, a sharp ache rising in his chest. He moved forward, his hand gently cupping Fiddleford’s face, guiding it upward. He wiped the tears away with his thumb, his own heart aching at the raw vulnerability in Fiddleford’s eyes. He saw the pain, the frustration, and the love all mixed together, and it tore at him. There were no words that felt right, no way to fully understand the storm that raged within Fiddleford. But Stanley didn’t need to know everything. He just needed to be there, to be present.
Fiddleford clung to him suddenly, burying his face in Stanley’s shirt as the tears came harder. His body trembled with emotion, his wet hands gripping Stanley’s shirt as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. Stanley, startled by the sudden weight of Fiddleford’s emotions, wrapped his arms around him, gently stroking his back. His own heart twisted with the helplessness he felt.
Fiddleford tried again to speak, his voice hoarse, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, all he could do was cling to Stanley, as if his touch was the only thing keeping him grounded. The tears fell freely now, his emotions spilling out in the silence. He couldn’t thank Stanley in the way he wanted to, he could only hope his presence said everything that needed to be said.
Stanley held him tighter, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t have the answers, and he didn’t have the right words either. But he wasn’t going to let go. He wasn’t going to leave Fiddleford alone, not now. Not ever.
They stayed like that for a long time, the sea gently rocking the boat, the sun now dipping beneath the horizon. Neither of them were able to say a thing, but they didn’t need to. In that silence, they found comfort in each other’s presence. And for a moment, the world felt a little bit more bearable.
-----
The bond they had seemed to only deepen with time. One particular day, Fiddleford sat at the edge of the boat, his back slightly arched as he reached down to his tail, wincing in pain. Stanley, oblivious to his discomfort at first, watched as Fiddleford slowly extracted a shiny, iridescent scale from the thick fin. Blood mixed with the shimmering surface, and Fiddleford’s face tightened with the effort.
With a shaky hand, Fiddleford held the scale out toward Stanley, his gaze soft but earnest. He signed, his hands moving with quiet intensity.
‘For you.’
Stanley, confused but trying to process, took the scale in his hand. The warm blood still clung to the edges, and he looked at it, feeling a slight discomfort at the suddenness of the gesture.
“Uh, thank you,” he muttered, still not understanding the full meaning.
Fiddleford’s frown deepened, his hands moving once more, trying to convey something that wasn’t getting through.
‘For you.’
Stanley’s brow furrowed as he turned the scale over, looking at Fiddleford in confusion.
“Yes, for me, I get it,” he said, gesturing to the gift. “But... What's going on, Fiddleford? What’s the matter?”
Fiddleford’s frustration grew. His hands moved in the air more urgently now, as though the right word or gesture was just out of reach. He looked at Stanley for help, his eyes pleading for understanding.
‘It’s a gift.’
“Yes, you give me quite a lot of them. What’s the matter?”
Fiddleford’s frown deepened, and he extended his own hand toward Stanley, pointing at it as if something crucial was missing from Stanley’s response.
Stanley blinked, more confused than ever.
“I don’t understand. What do you want? Can you sign please?”
Fiddleford's face crumbled with a mix of frustration and sadness. He looked at Stanley one last time, teary-eyed, and then, without another word, swam away from the boat, moving silently through the water.
“Wait— Fiddleford!” Stanley called out, panic rising in his chest, but Fiddleford’s figure already receded into the distance. “What… what just happened?”
As Stanley stood there, staring at the empty water where Fiddleford had vanished, a voice suddenly rang out, sharp and amused.
“You idiot!”
Stanley whipped around, his eyes wide in confusion. Bill was floating beside him, grinning from ear to ear, his usual mischievous glint in his eye.
“What the—?!” Stanley stammered. “What’s going on?”
Bill’s grin only widened as he laughed, clapping his hands in exaggerated amusement.
“He just proposed, you idiot!” he cackled.
Stanley froze.
“What?!”
“Yeah!” Bill said, voice dripping with mockery. “That scale he gave you? That’s a proposal to be mates! And you didn’t give him anything in return, which means you basically rejected him!”
Stanley’s face drained of color as his mind raced.
“Wait… he likes me?!”
“Of course he likes you, you moron!” Bill laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did you not get that with all the gifts he gave you? It's basic mermaid culture! Seriously, you’ve got to be the slowest guy I know.”
Stanley looked down at the scale in his hand, panic overtaking him.
“Wait, no, no, no.I— I didn’t mean to—”
Bill grinned wider.
“If you want to fix this, you’d better give him something in return. A gift, something meaningful. You need to show him you care.”
Stanley looked back at the water where Fiddleford had disappeared, his mind racing as his panic grew.
“But I’m human! I don’t have scales... what am I supposed to give him?” he exclaimed, his voice rising in desperation.
As he spoke, a strand of his hair fell across his face. He swiped it away, but as his fingers brushed it aside, an idea sparked in his mind.
------
The air was thick with the warmth of the setting sun, casting its orange glow over the quiet sea. The boat rocked gently on the waves as Stanley sat on the edge, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his hands trembling as he worked. He had been thinking, too much, about everything that had happened— about Fiddleford, the scale, the words that would never be spoken.
Stanley had never been one to express his emotions easily, but now, with the weight of regret pulling at his chest, he needed to do something. He didn’t have scales, didn’t have the gift that mermaids exchanged, but he had something else.
Taking a deep breath, Stanley pulled a strand of his own hair from the side of his head. With quick hands, he worked carefully, weaving the hair into a delicate braid. Each twist and turn of the strand seemed to carry the emotions he couldn’t put into words—his apology, his desire, his love. He had never made something like this before, but for Fiddleford, he would try.
When the bracelet was finished, Stanley’s heart pounded in his chest. He stood, looking toward the water, where Fiddleford had been staying. The sun’s light shimmered on the water’s surface as Fiddleford appeared, swimming toward him, his movements as fluid as always. As he neared the boat, Stanley caught a glimpse of the soft expression on Fiddleford’s face.
Stanley stepped forward, holding the bracelet in his hand, and extended it to Fiddleford. His voice was low but sincere as he tried to find the right words.
“I… I didn’t know about your mating rituals,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “I didn’t know what the scale meant, or… anything about it. I’m sorry. But, I want you to know... I care about you. I’d like to be your mate.” His voice grew more confident as he spoke, though his hands were still shaking. “I don’t have scales... but I made this, for you.”
He held the bracelet out in front of him, eyes searching Fiddleford’s face for some sign, any sign of understanding. Fiddleford paused, his eyes softening as he took in the gesture. His fingers gently brushed the bracelet, the action full of reverence and wonder. He looked up at Stanley, his gaze full of questions, his lips parted in a silent invitation for further explanation.
Stanley reached for Fiddleford’s hand and, with slow but sure movements, gently slipped the bracelet around his wrist. The warmth of Fiddleford’s skin under his fingers sent a soft tremor through him. As the bracelet settled, Stanley took a deep breath, his gaze lifting to meet Fiddleford’s.
Stanley signed, his hands moving with care in a new sign that Fiddleford had never seen. His palm faced Fiddleford, and he slowly moved his two center fingers down, leaving his pinky and index finger along with his thumb sticking out.
Fiddleford watched intently, his brows furrowing as he saw the expression on Stanley’s face—a mixture of hope and love, mixed with the fragility of the moment. His lips parted, and his fingers twitched slightly as he signed back, awkward but full of yearning.
His hands moved hesitantly, trying to replicate Stanley's motion, though there was uncertainty in the fluidity of the sign.
‘What does that mean?’ Fiddleford asked
Stanley smiled, a tender, almost shy smile, his eyes warm as he looked at Fiddleford. He signed again, this time with clarity, taking a moment to ensure Fiddleford understood.
"It means ‘I love you,’" Stanley explained gently, his eyes never leaving Fiddleford’s face.
Fiddleford blinked, processing the sign. His face flushed a deep red, his mouth slightly open in surprise. He looked down at his hands, trying to repeat the sign as best as he could. As he finished, he looked back at Stanley, his gaze wide with wonder and something else—something that mirrored the feelings swirling within Stanley.
‘I love you’ Fiddleford signed, his hands shaking slightly but his face breaking into a soft smile. He repeated it again, more confidently this time, and then again and again still with a smile.
The air between them thickened with emotion, the silence speaking volumes.
Without a word, Fiddleford slowly moved closer, his hand reaching out to Stanley, his fingers trembling just slightly as they brushed over the soft skin of his face. Stanley closed the distance between them, his heart pounding in his chest as he leaned in, his breath catching in his throat.
The sun, now dipping beneath the horizon, painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson. The moment was fragile, perfect in its simplicity. And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, their lips met.
It was soft, hesitant at first, as though neither of them quite believed it was real. But then, with a shared breath and a shared heartbeat, they both let go, deepening the kiss. It was everything they couldn't say with words.
As they pulled away, their foreheads pressed together, both breathing in the same air, the world around them forgotten for just a moment.
“I love you” Stanley whispered, his voice barely audible, though the words were clear in the quiet space between them.
Fiddleford smiled, his hands resting gently on Stanley’s chest. He didn’t need to sign anymore; the words had already been spoken, and they both knew exactly what they meant.
And as the sun set, the sea whispering softly against the boat, they stayed there, holding each other close, knowing that this moment was only the beginning of something more.
