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When the fishermen pulled up their net to inspect their haul, they didn’t expect to find a very, very unamused mermaid stuck in the ropes with the fish. Said mermaid lashed his tail, wrapping his calloused and aged fingers around the ropes and stared at the crew members gaping at him. His tail lashed again, getting further tangled into the netting.
“Are you going to cut me loose or gawk like children?” the mermaid—merman snapped. Gold rings glittered around his fingers. They matched the circlet that was lopsided on his head. Navy markings wove down his arms and across his chest. Despite the age of his body, this merman held a kingly appearance. Clearly this merman was important in this part of the seas. All of the present crewman shuffled together, uncertain. They glanced at each other, murmuring under their breaths. The old merman caught a few words here and there—fear in their muffled voices. A whisper here about angering the gods of the seas, a whine there that their captain would kill them if they even thought about defying direct orders to stock up on the fish haul before the weather turned sour. The merman sighed, rolling his eyes. Only humans could be so terrified and so conflicted at the same time.
“Uhm.” One of the younger crewmen shuffled forward. “I’m so sorry about this…”
“If you’re so sorry, let me go!” The merman hissed, showing off sharp teeth.
The younger crewman flinched, but held his ground. His brown eyes gleamed with a hidden strength that gave the kingly merman a brief pause. With a hesitant step forward, the young man approached the net, one hand raised and the other going to the knife at his belt. The merman narrowed his eyes at the movement, but he waited. There was nothing to be gained by acting rashly—a lesson he’d been trying to drill into his sons, with little success.
“Please hold still,” the young man said. He grasped the rope and pulled his knife out, cutting through the fibers.
Grumbles of protest sounded behind him, but the man continued his steady movements. Another crewman shouted from somewhere behind the merman, and he turned his head to see where it was coming from. Ah—this was no crewman. This must have been the captain. He seemed incensed that the younger man was destroying ship property in order to free one elderly merman. The merman nearly scoffed. Humans.
“Yuuri Katsuki!” the captain’s voice boomed from the landing above them. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Sir, we can get more rope,” Yuuri said. He didn’t look up—in fact, he didn’t flinch, despite his timidity in the face of an angry merman. “We have to let him go.”
“I don’t care about the fucking rope, Katsuki.” This time, Yuuri did flinch. But he didn’t stop, even when the captain continued, “you’re going to cost us a day’s pay if you cut that net down.”
The merman watched as Yuuri stilled and squared his shoulders. The young man straightened and turned toward his captain. Defiance smoldered in his brown eyes. This kid was impressive, for a human.
“A day’s pay isn’t worth the life of one of the merfolk,” Yuuri said. Steel edged his voice, though the merman could see his fists trembling. This Yuuri was interesting. He would have to find a way to reward him for his courage.
“Insubordinate brat,” the captain snarled.
Yuuri ignored him, going back to cutting the net open to free the merman. His eyes flickered toward the golden jewelry, navy tattoos, and the granite colored tail. Recognition flickered in his eyes and he looked back at the merman’s face.
“You’re…” Yuuri shook his head.
It wasn’t worth the distraction. The merman arched an eyebrow. This kid had some balls. He watched young, nimble hands work faster, cutting rope after rope after rope until fish began spilling out into the ocean. The captain approached Yuuri with the angry gusto of someone not used to being defied.
“Yuuri Katsuki, cease this instant or I’ll have to arrest you for insubordination!” The captain yelled.
“I’m not risking our lives, Sir,” Yuuri snapped back. “You don’t know who’s in our net.”
“I don’t care,” the captain snarled. He reached Yuuri and moved to grab him by the wrist—just in time for the last piece of net trapping the merman to snap. Just in time for the merman to drop back into the ocean, nary a splash. No evidence that there had been a merman at all. Yuuri exhaled heavily, relieved and uncaring about the hand on his wrist. Until that grip turned tight enough to bruise. Yuuri winced and tugged his arm back, but the captain wouldn’t let him go. The captain sneered at Yuuri, “that’s going to cost you some lashings, Katsuki. You owe something for losing a whole day’s worth of pay.”
“I just saved your life,” Yuuri hissed back, grimacing at the grip on his wrist. He tugged again. “That merman I just set free is the king of these waters.”
“Regardless, it wasn’t your decision to make,” the captain snapped. “You’re not captain here, I am. Now let’s go. Face your punishment like a man.”
“You would have had your crew killed and your ship at the bottom of the ocean for what—a net full of fish?” Yuuri snapped back, struggling against the grip his captain had on his arm. The sound of rough palm skin meeting soft cheek rang in the air. Yuuri’s eyes widened. The hand that wasn’t struggling for freedom went up to his reddening cheek. The skin there stung and he hissed at the barest touch. He felt his eyes begin to water. Yuuri bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood.
“Not your decision, Katsuki.” The captain looked smug at the damage he’d inflicted. “My ship, my rules, my decisions. You’re just here to work and earn your keep.”
The surrounded crew watched, wide eyed and terrified as their captain assaulted their fellow man. The sadistic gleam in the captain’s eyes kept them from stepping forward to Yuuri’s defense. Yuuri had been right, of course. The merman they’d just had in a net was king and controlled these waters. Their lives were at the sea’s mercy. They watched Yuuri stare down their captain—watched him glance behind him, where their captain had him pressed against the railing, perilously close to throwing him over.
“With all due respect, Sir,” Yuuri said, steeling his resolve, “I resign.”
The captain’s eyes widened a fraction and his grip on Yuuri’s wrist slackened. Yuuri had never been so defiant—so bold. The surprise afforded Yuuri his one chance. He lifted one leg and kicked the captain square in the chest. The captain let go of Yuuri’s wrist and the force threw Yuuri over the railing. The crew watched in frozen terror. Two of them shook off the fear and bolted to the railing, looking over the edge and down into the water. They were too late, of course, as Yuuri had already disappeared under the waves.
Yuuri had been prepared for the fall, but that didn’t stop the searing sting of his back slamming into the water. The impact forced the breath out of his lungs, giving him very little precious time. With a struggle, Yuuri broke the surface, gasping for air. His lungs burned from the forced exhalation and his desperate gulping. Yuuri looked up at the ship deck to see a few of his former crewmen gawking down at him. Or at least, their blurry figures. Somewhere between his fight with the captain and his fall into the sea, his glasses had gone missing. He thought he saw the captain, too, and vaguely heard a string of curses and insults and the declaration Neptune take you! before the waves, indeed, took him. They swept him away from the ship and the current began to pull him down. He struggled, but eventually gave up. Yuuri knew his fate—had chosen it himself—so there was no use in fighting it.
Perhaps the sea king would take pity on him.
It wasn’t likely.
Yuuri was just Yuuri.
A dime-a-dozen fisherman who couldn’t even follow orders right.
But—
He would have never forgiven himself if the captain had gotten his way and captured that merman—that king—Lord of the Northern Seas, Yakov.
He couldn’t hold his breath anymore. His lungs seared hotter than the earth’s core. Dark spots clouded his vision, already stinging from the salt water. Before he could take that fatal breath and fill his lungs with water, something bright pierced through his darkness clouding his hazy vision. Then, his eyes went dark—he’d just close them for awhile.
This really wasn’t how he’d expected to die.
There was something strangely serene about it, though.
He would gladly make the same decision over and over again, if it meant setting a powerful merfolk leader free from greedy mongrels.
Why had he ever gotten on that ship in the first place?
He’d never know. His brain sighed and quieted.
“Oh! You’re awake!”
A cheery voice cut through the fog of his brain. Yuuri groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and turning away from the voice.
“No, I’m not,” Yuuri groused, curling up like an armadillo. This only earned Yuuri a delighted peal of laughter.
“Yakov will be glad to know you’re up.” The owner of the cheerful voice started to move away.
Wait.
Yakov?
Lord of the Northern Seas?
Yuuri hadn’t been dreaming?
Does that mean he died?
Oh fuck.
But if he’s dead—why would Yakov want to see him?
“What,” was all that croaked out of Yuuri’s throat.
“He’s been beside himself with worry!” The voice said.
“The fuck,” Yuuri continued his delayed response. He groaned and sat up, rubbing at his face. No, he definitely wasn’t dead. He was in too much pain to be dead. “Wh’r’you?”
“Oops,” the voice laughed. “Sorry, where are my manners? You can call me Vik—”
The stranger cut off, blinking owlishly at Yuuri. Yuuri stared back, confused and disoriented.
“Sorry?”
“Viktor,” he said. “My name is Viktor. And your eyes are breathtaking.”
“What.”
“Oh, look at the time!” Viktor laughed, too high pitched to be comfortably genuine. “Yakov really wants to see you! I’ll go get him right now!”
Yuuri blinked several times as Viktor swam away. Two things registered in his sluggish brain:
1. He was underwater, apparently in the realm of the northern sea’s king.
2. This… Viktor had to be the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Who gave him the right to have eyes so blue? Or hair so fine and silver? And his tail was unlike any mermaid tail he’d ever seen or heard about—an alluring pink-purple gradient with leafy extensions. The further from Viktor’s torso the tail got, the lighter the color.
Yuuri pinched himself, just to triple check he wasn’t dead.
He wasn’t.
“Ow…”
Yuuri pushed himself up from….whatever it was that he’d apparently been sleeping on. With the distractingly gorgeous merman gone, Yuuri finally took stock of his surroundings. He sat in a unusually large, luxuriously cushioned clamshell bed. Huh. So mermaids had beds… The shell itself shimmered a gradient pink, darkest at its hinge. The ‘room’ was open. It seemed made of coral, but Yuuri was certain it was too cold for that in these waters. Speaking of… Yuuri rubbed his arms down his body, frowning. Why wasn’t he freezing? This was the Northern Sea. It was supposed to be like ice all the way from the surface to its depths. Upon further inspection, Yuuri found himself still in the clothes he wore on the ship and—blessedly still had his legs. He wondered why.
Still, that meant he should be able to get up and wander, right? This undersea structure was obviously home to a whole slew of mermaids—and oddly had floors. Maybe it was just to separate the different levels of the structure, but he wouldn’t know. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to stay here, either. Sure, he’s thankful he’s alive, but…
Surely someone on land would miss him?
Unless…
“I see you’re up and about,” came Yakov’s gruff voice. Somehow, it was softer than when he’d snapped at him while hanging from the net. Though he supposed he’d be pissed off, too, if he’d been tangled up and captive, even for a few minutes. “How are you feeling?”
“Uhm.” Yuuri blinked. “Fine…? I guess? I still feel heavy and groggy, though. And sore as hell, but— I did drown, didn’t I?”
“Almost.” Yakov rolled his eyes and jabbed his thumb toward Viktor, who had trailed after him. “This reckless fool saw what you did for me and decided to save you.”
“I—” Yuuri stopped, turning toward Viktor. “Why would you do that?”
“Why not?” Viktor tilted his head, looking just as confused as Yuuri felt. “You saved the man who has pretty much been a father to me my whole life, so why wouldn’t I save you?”
“I didn’t…” Yuuri rubbed his face with his palms. “I didn’t do that for a reward…”
“All the more reason to save you from dying.” Viktor shrugged. He looked toward Yakov, grinning a bit. “He’s cute. Can I keep him?”
“What.” Yuuri’s face blanked into a mask. The same one he’s sure he had when Viktor first started prodding at him.
“Katsuki isn’t some pet for you to play with, Vitya,” Yakov sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Uhm.” Yuuri fidgeted, wringing his hands. “How am I even breathing right now? Humans don’t breathe under water…”
“Magic!” Viktor chirped, delighted that Yuuri asked. He winked. “A kiss of life, if you will.”
“What.” Yuuri was saying this a lot lately. A lot. He was so tired.
“I’m kidding!” Viktor laughed. “Kind of. A little bit. I think your kind would call it… Ah… I’ve seen it, on the shores. Someone not breathing and another person kissing them? Is that how that works?”
“Oh.” This time, Yuuri sighed. He rubbed at his temples. “I don’t feel any less weird about it, but that makes sense.”
“I apologize if I crossed some line…” Viktor said, watching Yuuri with a curious eye. “You humans have such strange customs.”
“It’s fine.” Yuuri waved his hands a bit, blinking at how easy it was. He was so deep underwater there was no light. The pressure pushing down on him should be making moving the most difficult task he’s ever had. But it was… So easy. He felt Viktor’s eyes on him, but he ignored it, marveling at the realizations hitting him.
He should be dead, for one thing. But he’s not.
Viktor, the dazzlingly distracting merman with impossibly blue eyes, had… Kissed him. In a magical recreation of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. But still. Lips touched. And he hadn’t even been conscious for it.
The room he’d been resting in must have been Viktor’s, since Viktor is the one that saved him.
The seawater wasn’t exerting nearly as much pressure on him as it should be.
Yakov was watching him. Observing for any sign that he’d freak out and attack him or his kind-of-son? But Yuuri didn’t feel nearly as intimidated as he should.
And now, Yuuri finally noticed, Viktor stared at him with something akin to wonder on his face. Yuuri furrowed his brows, wondering what he’d done to garner so much attention. Sure, he’d set the King of the Northern Seas free, but anyone wo—no, not anyone. The bruising on his wrist reminded him sharply of how he’d been the only one to stand up and risk his life and livelihood to set Yakov free. Yuuri rubbed at the bruising, wincing. God, why did he have to touch things when he know they’d hurt like Hell?
“So—uh.” Viktor cleared his throat, grabbing Yuuri’s attention again. “We owe you something. I mean, without you, we probably wouldn’t have a king right now.”
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Viktor,” Yakov said, rolling his eyes. “The Northern Seas would still have a king. Or have you forgotten that I’ve already named you as my heir?”
“…Oh my God,” Yuuri wheezed as he breath caught in his throat.
“What?” Both merman asked at the same time as they looked at him. The stare arrested him in place.
“I can’t… I’m…” Yuuri sucked in a violent breath and pressed his lips together in a thin line. Maybe if he stopped breathing he’d black out and then he’d wake up back at home, warm and comfortable. But—he wasn’t cold, here. In fact, the icy sea around them seemed… Welcoming. Like it wanted him to feel at ease there. “…You don’t owe me anything…”
How did one address merfolk royalty?
“But—”
“You already saved my life,” Yuuri said, effectively cutting Viktor off. “You don’t owe me anything and I can’t ask for more than that.”
Astoundingly, laughter answered him. And it wasn’t Viktor—Yuuri hadn’t known that someone looking so gruff and grizzly could laugh like that. King Yakov was terrifying.
Oh.
Shit.
He probably shouldn’t have interrupted literal royalty. But he’d been honest! These people didn’t owe him, a common human, anything. In fact, Yuuri felt like he owed them. Saving his life, giving him time to rest, treating him like some honored guest… Yuuri chewed on his lip, tearing open fresh scabs. Blood tainted the water around him. Viktor tilted his head with a smile. He reached out and rubbed a thumb along Yuuri’s wrecked lip, and the blood and scabs disappeared. Yuuri’s breath hitched at the gentle contact and he felt his cheeks flame. If he hadn’t already drowned once, he’d be drowning again, in the depths of Viktor’s eyes. They practically sparkled. The water around them teased their hair—Viktor’s being much longer and more ethereal. He could see the long strands drift lazily about them, even if he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Viktor’s face. He’d give anything to make himself reach out and touch, to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. Could hair still be soft if you lived in a frigid salt sea? And—and—
Wait.
Yuuri could see. It was just now hitting him that he had no glasses, but he could see. Was that part of the magic, too?
“Uhm.”
Very intelligent, Yuuri Katsuki. Very intelligent.
Yakov cleared his throat, breaking the spell Yuuri found himself under. Yuuri jolted back, as if Viktor’s touch had burned him and he was just noticing. He supposed, in a way, Viktor had burned him. Why else would his skin feel like fire? Yuuri shook his head and focused his attention on Yakov.
“I’m sorry—I’ve been so rude.” Yuuri almost bit his lip, but stopped himself when he thought of the care that Viktor had taken in healing it for him.
“Nonsense,” Yakov said with a roll of his eyes. “You’re in pain and confused. You thought you died, and here you are. And…”
Yuuri tilted his head, curious.
“It’s not your fault Vitya is being so easily distracted,” Yakov finished. He ignored the indignant noise coming from Viktor. “Your captain called you Katsuki. Is that correct?”
“I—yes,” Yuuri said with a small nod. “Yuuri, though…”
“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed, sounding ridiculously awestruck. Yuuri was just Yuuri, not some awe-inspiring entity.
“Uhm.” Yuuri picked at his fingers. “’Katsuki’ is… Well. You heard the captain yelling at me…”
“I did.” Yakov nodded, solemn. “I also saw him attack you after you set me loose.”
“He would have risked the lives of everyone on board for his own greed…” Yuuri curled in on himself. “No one deserves to be held against their will for someone else’s vices.”
“That reminds me…” Viktor said, tapping his chin. He turned to Yakov, frowning. “Why were you out there, so far from safety? You’ve always been the pragmatic one. Practical to a fault. ‘Never rush into danger without thinking about it first, Vitya.’”
“Dumbass child,” Yakov huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest. “There’d been talk of humans overfishing and taking more than they needed. I needed to see if it was true before taking action.”
Yuuri paled. He stepped back away from both of them.
“You didn’t… Sink the ship, did you…?” Yuuri asked, voice quivering. “Not everyone on board was like the captain…”
“I didn’t do anything,” Yakov said, shrugging. “I have no control over the weather, despite what people say. I’m not Neptune. I’m not a god.”
“Oh…” Yuuri sighed, hanging his head.
The timing, though…
Must be karmic justice. Maybe even a little poetic.
“Hey, hey!” Viktor cut in, suddenly alarmingly close to Yuuri. “Don’t worry about it! I’m sure some people survived. And you’re alive! What’s not to be happy about that?”
Yuuri sighed but nodded. He looked between the two mermen. “Thank you. Both of you, for your hospitality. I don’t deserve it, but thank you.”
“Hey, now…” Viktor pouted. “Of course you deserve it.”
Yuuri didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d never been told he deserved something good. Not in recent memory. Hell, he’d been told he deserved a lashing—and almost had it, too, had he not purposefully thrown himself overboard. For a brief moment, he bitterly wished he’d dragged the captain with him, let the fish deal with his poor character.
“Hey, I have an idea!” Viktor exclaimed, almost toppling Yuuri over in his excitement.
“Should… I be worried?” Yuuri asked, blinking. Viktor was now very, very close. Yuuri could see the darker blue flecks around his pupils. Actually, he was pretty sure their noses were almost touching. Were merfolk always so… No, Yakov wasn’t. Yakov seemed to prefer staying a minimum of an arm’s length away from everyone—as far as Yuuri could tell.
“You can stay with us!”
“What.” Here they go again, Yuuri deadpanning. Would he ever be able to stop saying that in response to Viktor?
“If you want to, I mean,” Viktor added. He glanced at Yakov, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “If you don’t want to go back to land, you can always stay with us. You’re an honored guest! You saved the King’s life, after all. And saved his heir from potential heartbreak, too.”
“Vitya,” Yakov warned. What he was warning about, Yuuri had no clue.
“Alright, alright.” Viktor shrugged. He still hadn’t given Yuuri his space. “But I mean it, Yuuri. You can stay.”
“But I—” Yuuri swallowed. “I wouldn’t want to impose… I have nothing.”
“Sure you do!” Viktor grinned. “You can have me. Isn’t that how the fairy tales go? Save the king, earn the princess’s hand in marriage?”
“Uhm.”
Yakov sighed, shoulders slumping. “You’re not a goddamn princess, Vitya…”
“I’m pretty enough to be one!” Viktor laughed. “Right, Yuuri?”
“Uhm.”
Yuuri had lost all sense of reasoning. These people were offering him a chance at a new life—a new him. Even if Viktor was… A bit eccentric.
“What do you say? You’ll stay, won’t you?”
“I’m leaving.” Yakov turned and swam away, effectively abandoning Yuuri to Viktor’s mercy.
“I—” Yuuri stopped, clearing his throat. It felt like something had lodged its way in there and was holding his words hostage.
“Yuuri…?” Viktor didn’t look so confident anymore. In fact, Yuuri thought he looked… Scared. Why?
“I don’t have to get married, do I?” Yuuri asked, leaning a little bit away from Viktor.
“No, of course not!” Viktor couldn’t hid his hurt, though Yuuri could tell he certainly tried. “Why?”
“Well… I…” Yuuri shrugged, looking away. “I’d like to get to know you and your people first…?”
“Yuuri!”
This time Yuuri did topple over with the force of Viktor’s attention. He wheezed. “Please get off of me. You’re heavy and I’m still hurt.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Viktor grinned, rubbing his neck sheepishly.
Not a year later, King Yakov had stepped down, claiming he was too old for “this shit” and wanted to retire to a quiet life away from ruling the folk of the Northern Seas. Whether he was enjoying it or not remained up for debate, as he was often seen accompanied by a little swarm of merchildren.
Viktor had been named king, of course, as Yakov had told him repeatedly. And at his side, Yuuri. Yuuri who had decided to stay and had become much beloved to Viktor’s people. He didn’t have legs anymore, either. In their place was a beautiful, shimmering koi-patterned tail that fanned out delicately at the fin.
“Are you glad you stayed?” Viktor asked, his lips pressed against Yuuri’s ear. He grinned when he felt, more than heard, Yuuri giggle.
“You’re tickling me,” Yuuri said.
“You didn’t answer me,” Viktor whined.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
Yuuri’s smile stopped Viktor’s heart, right there. God. Viktor adored him, but his king-consort’s beauty was dangerous. Viktor can’t be blamed for the squeak that escaped him.
“I’m very glad I stayed.”