Chapter Text
There was an odd sensation in the Ocean that night, a feeling of discomfort and anticipation, almost like the Ocean had an itch She was trying not to scratch. Lance could feel it all around him, grazing his nerves and setting him on edge--though not in a bad way. He shared Her feelings of anticipation, though for an entirely different reason.
His siblings watched him fuss about in their room, more energetic than usual thanks to the feelings of the Ocean. Although all merfolk could feel Her, Lance had a very strong connection to the Ocean, making him far more sensitive to Her moods and wishes than most. It made him feel a little special, but not so much in the moments like now when he could feel Her anxious tingles from head to fin.
His own emotions stemmed from what he was planning to do once all of his siblings went to sleep. The humans above had somewhat of a routine: every season they’d come by ship to float in the sea without purpose--at least, none that Lance could discern. They made loud noises, stomped around on the hard flooring of their ship, and drank foul-smelling liquid that sometimes spilled overboard into the Ocean, who made it very clear with a few rough waves that She did not appreciate that. Their ventures by ship to the sea had been going on for years, since Lance had been 20 seasons, a mere guppy who’d wandered to the surface alone. Rather than turn away in fear, he’d been gripped by curiosity and wonder, absolutely enchanted by the humans and their behaviors. There had been so many adults on the ship that the appearance of the youngest member instantly caught his eye.
The boy had been young, Lance’s age he’d guessed, with pale skin, dark hair, and piercing eyes. He’d appeared guarded, eyes warily watching the clumsy, rambunctious adults laughing and singing around the deck. An older boy led him around the festivities with a hand on his shoulder. Those wary eyes softened slightly at the older boy, and softened completely when they came to the side of the ship--right over Lance’s spying spot from a small rectangular opening in the deck side--and gazed at the sea lapping at the side of the ship, at the stars and the moon up in the sky. The younger boy took in a deep breath, smelling and filling his lungs with the sea breeze.
“I wish we could come here all the time, Shiro,” he said, small voice filled with longing that tugged at Lance’s heart.
“I know, Keith,” the older boy, Shiro, said. “I know.”
It was that boy, Keith, that drew Lance’s attention every time in the seasons that passed. They grew older, and Lance came to know more about the humans on the ship, and the things they did. They dressed in cloth garments and had harder material on their feet— their feet! Lance couldn’t help but be enraptured by their doubled appendages, the way said appendages carried them around to walk and dance. They were graceless creatures, undoubtedly even less so in water, but still, there was a kind of grace about them that held Lance’s eye.
Allura entered the room, interrupting Lance’s thoughts. She watched for a moment, amusement glittering in her blue eyes. She grabbed his head gently in her hands as she passed and pressed a fond kiss to his forehead, laughing softly as he stilled.
“Be still, princeling,” she said, swimming on to her bed. She yawned, tiredness showing for only a moment. “May She soothe you to sleep soon.”
He nodded at her, following suit and lying in his bed, fingers softly thrumming over the back of his other. The Ocean’s energy shivered over his skin in one wave bigger than the others, giving him pause to wonder what it was about. The humans were already sailing, this much he knew, but he had to wonder if they were particularly rambunctious tonight to send so much… feeling to the Ocean.
Nonetheless, he closed his eyes and listened intently to the breathing of his siblings, waiting for more time to pass before he cracked his eyes open and took a peek. His siblings lay still, their breathing even and slow, everyone sound asleep. He took his leave slowly and quietly, careful not to disturb the still currents in their room as he left. He made it to the surface without incident, avoiding the guard detail outside and around the kingdom, having done this way too long to make any mistakes this late in the game. The closer he came to the surface, the bigger his excitement grew, peaking when he broke through and took a deep breath of the night air, crisp and refreshing to his lungs.
The moon was bright behind the clouds, visible in their break, lighting the sea and the sky with its brilliant light. Lance spotted the ship almost instantly, the fireworks and the sounds of the crew being a big help. They were playing music, having just finished the firework show, and shouting voices could be heard from his distance, laughing and singing along to the songs. He submerged himself again to swim closer, breaking the surface again when he reached his spying spot. He jumped up onto the ledge, unaffected by the cold of the breeze on his skin and scales. He was made for much colder temperatures.
His spot was hidden, but had a fantastic view. The humans—all men, he’d long since learned—stood on the deck, many moving in their ridiculous dances, others playing instruments or just observing, laughing and singing loudly along. Many of them held containers in their hands, full of the foul-smelling liquid the Ocean hated. Lance watched, unimpressed, as one of the men jostled another, the liquid in their container spilling overboard into the sea. Maybe that was what had her all riled. A particularly rough wave tipped the ship, causing many smiles to drop as they flailed to stay balanced.
He was unaware of how much time passed just watching them, when all of a sudden a sound caught his ear.
“Lance!” A familiar voice whisper-yelled nearby, the sound carried by the waves of the sea. Lance looked around and grinned as he saw his dear friend fly to him and land on his shoulder, a small pigeon of dark-colored feathers. “What are you doing?”
“Observing, Pidge,” Lance replied nonchalantly. “They’re drinking the bitter-smelling stuff—the beer and rum. I think they’ve been dancing for a while now. If you hadn’t told me—and if I hadn’t read all those books—I’d have thought this was what all humans did.”
“Well,” Pidge said, eyeing a few stumbling sailors as they tipped back their mugs and chugged the contents. “Certainly a lot do.” Then they turned their curious eye on Lance, and he braced himself for the impending questions. “Has your favorite one come out yet?” They asked slyly.
Lance huffed, turning back to the small opening near the ship’s floor. “No,” he pouted, shoulders slumping in disappointment. “I haven’t seen him since I’ve been out here.”
“And how long has that been?” Pidge asked.
Lance shrugged. “Maybe a few hours. Not long.”
They watched for a moment in silence, observing the foolishness of the crew, nonplussed. The door to the captain’s quarters opened, and out came Lance’s favorite human with his most recent furry companion, melting Lance’s heart and looking regal—and pissed.
“Just what do you all think you’re doing, men?” Keith yelled. All crew members froze, looking thoroughly caught in the act. “A whole ship to sail back to port and what is my crew doing? Drinking themselves silly? Snap out of it! We’re going to be caught in the storm if you don’t get a move on now!”
“Yes, Highness!” One of them stuttered, and the crew stumbled to their stations, a flurry of motion.
Lance and Pidge shared a look, glancing at the sky. There was a thicker blanket of clouds now, coming in close to the moon. Despite this, there didn’t appear to be much of a storm coming, at least to the untrained eye; Lance had the advantage of special insight to the Ocean’s tendencies. There was definitely a storm brewing, though it was far from punishing them yet. But Lance was all too familiar with how quickly that could change if the Ocean had reason.
Another man walked out of the captain’s quarters, sidling up to Keith and placing a clearly unwelcome arm on his shoulders. This was a less familiar face Lance was used to; this man had only recently started to come on Keith’s sailing trips. He stood tall, taller than the human prince, and had silver white hair and eerie eyes. He seemed to charm the crew with his charisma, but Keith always seemed unaffected. In fact, he seemed to have the opposite reaction; same with his dog, Kosmo, which seemed to be a rather intuitive creature from what Lance could tell. His name, from what Lance had been able to gather, was Lotor. He was the Prince’s advisor--against said Prince’s choice.
“Oh, Your Majesty,” Lotor drawled, bringing them both closer to the edge of the ship. Kosmo seemed to glower as he followed closely at his owner’s heels. Lance and Pidge pressed themselves closer to the ship’s side, Lance tucking his tail out of view and keeping an eye on Kosmo. There had been a few occasions when the dog had sniffed them out; with a little shooing motion, he’d returned his nose to the ship with intelligent eyes, being careful not to bring them any more attention. Lance knew he liked that dog. “Can you blame them for being in a celebratory mood? It is all in celebration for you, after all.”
Keith scowled, eyes gazing on the blackness of the sea around them. “Celebration or not, they need to keep their minds clear and their instincts sharp for any trouble that may arise,” he said, removing himself from Lotor’s arm. The other man was unfazed, leaning farther over the railing.
“I suppose you are right, Prince,” Lotor sighed, and he suddenly turned away from the railing. “Perhaps a gift will lift your spirits! Varkon! Grab a few men and bring the special cargo from below!”
“Lotor, there is no need for gifts,” Keith said, and from the sound of his voice, Lance gathered that the Prince had an inkling for what this gift entailed.
“Nonsense,” Lotor said, sounding utterly affronted. “There is all the need! The future King deserves all the gifts his kingdom can offer!”
“I’m nowhere near Kingship, and you know it.”
The mood suddenly shifted to a more serious tone.
“If you would just choose a bride, like the Queen has been asking of you for the past year--”
“You know I’ve no interest in a bride. Any sort of marriage between a woman and I would be one of misery, and that is no good for the kingdom.”
“No Queen and no heirs to take the throne after you is also no good for the kingdom. What if you chose one of the brides I’ve been telling you about and, perhaps, had a lover--”
“Are you suggesting I be unfaithful, Lotor?”
Lance would have hated to be on the receiving end of that tone, so scathing it sounded. Even Kosmo’s ears went back and flat against his head. There was a long stretch of silence before Lotor spoke again.
“Of course not, Your Highness,” he said lowly. “I see it was the wrong thing to say. Forgive me, I wish it unsaid.”
Before Keith could respond, a crew member called out. “We have the cargo!”
“Excellent!” Lotor called, as if they hadn’t had that conversation. Lance watched him come into view from his hideout, towards what looked like an enormous structure covered by a large piece of fabric. He heard Keith heave a huge sigh before also coming into view, looking braced for the worst at the sight of Lotor’s ‘gift.’
With a flourish, Lotor uncovered the structure, revealing a giant statue of the Prince himself, in a heroic pose with a rather sharp and long object held in his hand. Lance recognized it as a sword, having seen an illustration of one in one of his books. The Prince wore elaborate clothing, and there was remarkable detail in his facial features, his expression one of determined focus.
Keith seemed speechless. “Lotor…” He said, swallowing. “This is… something.”
“Isn’t it magnificent?” Lotor crowed, standing back to admire the statue. “I had it commissioned from Balmeran sculptors, wasting no expense. I’d say the more than delivered!”
“I truly know not what to say,” Keith said, the look on his face supporting those words. Kosmo seemed to share his owner’s sentiment, giving the sculpture a wary sniff before baring his teeth at it slightly.
A gust of wind howled by, ruffling up the Prince’s hair around his face and catching the attention of all onboard. Wary looks were exchanged, and crew members slowly shuffled, their feet pointing in the direction of their stations.
“It seems the Ocean is not in good spirits tonight,” one of the sailors remarked worriedly. “Those merfolk must be up to something, raising up a fuss somehow!”
“The Ocean? Merfolk?” A younger sailor questioned. “But those are old wives’ tales!”
“Every good sailor has sense enough to fear the wrath of the Ocean, lad,” the older sailor barked, flicking the younger up the head.
“None of that nonsense, crew!” Lotor cut in. A particularly rough wave rocked him off balance. “Just get us back to port before this storm gets any worse!”
The winds picked up, Ocean’s anxiety shivering violently up Lance’s spine. A few spilled drinks wouldn’t cause this amount of emotion out of Her. Something was wrong—but what?
Keith joined his own men in preparing, helping wherever he could. Lance could do nothing but watch as his hair whipped around with the rising wind, getting sprayed more than once as the choppy waves slapped and rocked the ship about. A knot formed in Lance’s stomach, and he turned to Pidge on his shoulder.
“The winds are getting too fast,” he said to her, brows creased in worry. “Go find shelter where you can!”
It all happened so fast. One moment the sea was merely choppy, and the next a tall wave hit the opposite side of Lance’s spot, pushing the ship so far on the side that Lance merely had to reach out a hand to dip his fingers in the water. Freaked out, Pidge leapt off his shoulder, wings beating furiously against the rising winds.
“Get out of here,” Lance shouted at her, unheard by the crew as the ship righted itself. “Find safety!”
She made herself scarce then, becoming nothing but a blip in the sky, and Lance turned his attention to doing the same. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the ship and the sailors behind, however. He submerged himself just enough in the waves, unbothered by their turmoil, keeping himself righted and watching as the sea beat mercilessly at the ship, tossing them any which way, making it harder and harder for them to leave.
Please, Mother , Lance begged, let them leave! Calm yourself, everything is alright!
She could not be consoled from whatever ailed her, and Lance got the distinct feeling from her that it was something he could not see himself. A storm had formed by now, moon shrouded, flashes of lightning coming from the clouds. Lance held his breath, watching in terror as the ship itself was hit, and bright flames began to lick at the wooden boards.
Panic lit up his being, and he frantically swam about, watching as sailors jumped ship and managed to swim to the safety boat that had been deployed. It seemed they had all made it--except for two.
“Bander!”
Keith’s voice.
Lance watched as Keith,with Kosmo still on the burning ship, struggled with a weak-looking man in his arms. They made it to the edge, and Keith helped the man jump as far as he could towards the boat, where the crewmen were extending an ore out to him. He caught it, thankfully, and they waited for their prince to follow suit--
But Keith appeared to be stuck, the boards beneath his feet having broken and trapped him by the ankle. Kosmo was helping his owner pull his ankle, teeth sunken into the fabric of his pants, claws scratching at the wood trapping Keith. Lance watched in horror as a particularly big wave crashed against the ship, completely obscuring it--and submerging it. Its pieces broke away in the depths, breaking the surface with the prince nowhere in sight.
Lance didn’t even think, swimming about with his heart in his throat. He dove and resurfaced, searching desperately for the human prince, the sounds of panicked barking spurring him faster. The sounds of the human crew had long since faded away, the waves sending them further and further, but he could hardly care about being seen. Keith, no, where are you? Where are you? Where--? There!
A dark lump resurfaced for a moment before sliding back under the sea, and Lance dove after it, finding the unconscious form of the human prince and taking him in his arms. He struggled against the fierce waves thrashing them around, doing his best to make his way towards the struggling dog and keep Keith’s head above water. His mind was scattered, desperately thinking of a safe place to keep them. Anywhere but here! Land!
It took a while--time lost all meaning to him as he spent all the adrenaline-fueled energy within him to drag his beloved human and dog to land. The Ocean had calmed Herself and the sky had lightened, dawn breaking past the clouds. By the time Lance had dragged both his and Keith’s bodies up onto the shore--Kosmo managed to drag himself and collapse beside them, sniffing worriedly at his human--the sun was rising above the horizon line. That wasn’t good, but it was the least of Lance’s worries at the moment.
He pressed an ear to Keith’s chest, listening intently. There was a faint beat, and shallow breaths, but they were there nonetheless. He released a shaky sigh of relief, noticing the tremors in his hands. He was scared, exhausted, nervous… He’d never been this close to a human before.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the one beside him. Pale, smooth skin, a slightly wide but straight nose, almond eyes, plush lips… He could see hints of toned muscle beneath the other man’s torn shirt, planes of definition that spoke of hard work Lance had never had the pleasure of seeing. He was gorgeous; the most gorgeous human he’d ever seen. Of course, he knew there was more to him; he’d learned and heard of many of Keith’s accomplishments over the years through the crew. He wasn’t just good-looking; he was smart, resourceful, passionate, stubborn. Lance’s heart ached, knowing that he this magnificent creature belonged to two different worlds that couldn’t mix. He’d never get to know Keith in the way his heart wanted to.
A sorrowful tune escaped his lips, unbidden. He reached out a hand and moved a lock of dark hair away from the human prince’s face. His eyes fluttered at Lance’s touch, and although he knew he should move and retreat to the Ocean, he couldn’t bring himself to. Lance would never touch the human world the way he wanted to, but he could allow himself this one selfishness, could allow himself the knowledge that at least one human--his favorite human--knew of his existence. His, and only his. Keith, and only Keith.
And Kosmo, who was watching Lance intently with his ears and eyes alert, but Lance didn’t notice the canine, eyes on Keith.
Violet eyes fluttered open, blinking at the blinding sunlight, and Lance moved over him, still singing his soft tune, blocking the light. Keith’s eyes opened further, focusing in on him and staring, features softening. His hand rose, almost as if to touch Lance to assure himself he was real, but then Kosmo stood and ran across the shore, barking loudly and shattering the moment.
In a flash, Keith found himself alone, and Lance found himself hidden in the Ocean once again. He watched from afar as someone came by with the Kosmo, fussing over Keith, who sat up dazedly, looking all around. Lance’s heart ached once again, painful in his chest, wishing more than anything that he could cross the divide between them.
Oh, what he’d give to be a human and live in the human world. To see the sights, and live the life of a human; and if he got the chance to be with a certain human, that would be nice too.
Nice thoughts to have, Lance sighed to himself. He turned and submerged himself, swimming back home to hopefully talk his way out of trouble. Back home.
Where I belong.
Unbeknownst to the saddened merman, two eels watched as he swam farther away from them, an eye each glowing.
“Are we to return, Priestess?” One of them hissed.
“Yes,” a voice within the darkness answered them. The voice belonged to none other than Haggar, a wicked sea witch banished to the darkest depths of the sea by King Alfor himself. She watched through the glowing eyes of her minions, waving the image away from the giant pearl she kept in her lair. “Return quickly, pets. We have a plan to formulate.”
The wheels were turning in her head already, and she fingered her many ingredients lying about her laid, pondering which ones would suit her needs best. The eagerness for revenge prickled in her fingertips, radiating within her from her head to her tentacles. She spent her time determining which potions to use until her minions reached her lair, entering with nods of respect.
“So, pets,” she drawled, eyeing them both. “We have a merman with an aching desire to walk among the humans on land. To walk, perhaps, with one particular human in mind. So young, so innocent… so naive . It has been hundreds of years that we’ve been banished to this awful place thanks to our dearest King….”
She returned to the pearl, waving a hand over it and bringing back the image of the young mer-prince gazing at the human prince on the shore, an obvious look of longing in his face.
“A merman with feelings for a human…” She smirked. “How tragic. This makes it all too easy .” She looked at the princeling again. “He has such a handsome young face. I think he’d make a wonderful addition to my garden, don’t you think?”
The resounding groans of trapped souls at the mouth of her lair was like music to her ears. Every broken deal, every debt unpaid--every client had paid their price, and belonged to her for eternity now. Oh, yes, the mer-prince would make a delightful addition.
Revenge was hers for the taking. And take it, she would. Using the young Prince Lance himself.