Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The circus was nothing but a rumour.

Stories that spread far and wide about a hodgepodge of magical beings that swept into town, performed and left as if they had never been there.

Sometimes people disappeared with them, sometimes the village earned a new member who would thrive among them.

Always did they leave an impression.

Children listened to the stories of elders who had witnessed this circus, the rumour.

Tales of magic, wonder and spectacle all wrapped up in stories that were acted out by the peculiar looking performers of wide variety.

Rarely would there be a repeated performance as the performers themselves came and went regularly, ever rotating.

But the circus was nothing but a rumour, until it came to your village.

That was how we preferred it.

It was easier for everyone involved if we rolled up early into the morning, when it was still dark and everyone was sleeping, and set up our tents and stalls while it was quiet and there was rarely a body around to create a spectacle at seeing us arrive.

There was no one to trip us up and they watched in amazed awe as we set everything up in a well-practiced hecticness, we were all so efficient with our work that it would take a mere few hours to get us all set up, unlike the previous half a day.

Now we could have been set up in time for everyone to wake up and step outside to see our performance tent waiting for them, coaxing them in to see what the fuss was about.

That was one of my favourite parts.

Watching as people neared with expressions of fear, awe and confusion.

We weren’t a large group, but what we lacked in size we made up for in spectacle.

While our living tents weren’t much, dark electric blue tents just big enough to house a bed, a chest to hold our clothes and a few optional luxury items to display to make it feel like the home it offered, the performance tent was truly something to behold.

To me, when I had first laid eyes on it, I could only describe it akin to a large, octagonal castle of red flannel and yellow trimming so deep that it could have been gold.

The walls stood monumentally tall, though anything would be tall to my short stature, and loomed above the houses of the village residents.

The red was so bright that it practically hurt the eyes to look at, with white and black diamonds decorating around the eight walls of the tent, alternating in topping colours.

Black on top, white on bottom.

White on top, black on bottom.

To hold the walls in place at each corner, a tall, black poled flag held it in place, the flags also alternating so every other one was either black and white or yellow and red, though each one had the same zigzagging pattern that was outlined with yellow, near golden threat for the black flag and black thread for the red one.

The entrance to the tent was outlined with a black and white twisting arch that acted as a doorway, sitting a short way in front of it was the ticket booth, a black and dark turquoise box fit for one being.

From the centre of the tent poked out another long, golden pole which was topped with a fluttering flag that held the circus logo.

A strange illustration of an Arachne that, while beautifully drawn, always made me shudder when looking at it.

Needless to say, if the tent itself didn’t draw people in then I was absolutely certain that the flag would.

While being entirely disturbing, it was eye catching.

It sounded like a lot of work, but when we worked as a collective group it worked out amazingly smoothly, especially as so many of us had our particular talents that made the set up smoother once we found the right area.

The tent had been set up on the outskirts of a path leading into a wooded area, a path that we would be taking when we left this village.

About half a mile in front of us and to our left was where the villager’s houses and marketplace sat, arcing in a semi-circle until it reached the edge of a fenced off, elevated stone wall that dropped down into the sea.

A perfect place to stand and watch the local fishermen reel in their goods for the day or to simple stare out at the vast ocean.

“You stare any longer and you’ll become a victim to our curse.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Lucas, a man the size of a small tree and twice as burly as its trunk.

He smiled widely, his sharp teeth adding a strange contrast to his friendly nature.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked, crossing my arms over my stomach, “need someone to trim your beard?”

“Goatee,” he chuckled, brushing his fingers over the hairy decoration that helped to shape his square jaw.

“Same difference.”

“Big difference.”

“Keep up that cheek and I’ll shave it all off.”

He gasped, his large hands going into his dark, spiked hair as if that alone could shield it from scissor blades, his canine ears twitching as his fingertips brushed over them.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Just try me.”

“You’re brave for a short ass.”

I glared at him, struggling to fight back my smile.

“Don’t make me do it.”

Lucas looked at me, his eyebrow quirking just a little.

I smirked and reached into my pocket, pulling out a long, silver dog whistle held on an orange string, instantly his eyes widened and he let out a breathy gasp before they narrowed once again.

“I repeat, you wouldn’t dare.”

With an ever-widening grin that hurt my cheeks, I raised the whistle to my lips and struggled to hold it between them while maintaining eye contact.

Lucas rolled his eyes and snatched it from my mouth with a blink and miss it movement, the cold breeze of his hand brushing past my face tingling a little.

“That was rude.”

“And threatening me with a dog whistle isn’t?”

There was a small stare down, making my eyes ache and beg to be covered just for a second but my resilience was strong.

Until it cracked and I couldn’t stop myself from letting out an embarrassing snort of a laugh, this in turn made Lucas let out his own bark of a laugh as I covered my mouth with my hand and laughed harder.

It took a while for our laughter to die down, by the time it had my cheeks hurt, my lungs burned and my eyes were watering.

We were fully aware that it wasn’t that funny, but for some reason we found it hysterical.

I’d have put it down to the late hour and us being tired if this wasn’t routine by this point.

Putting my hands on my hips, I slowly turned towards the sigh while taking a deep breath, hoping to expand my lungs and bring in enough air to stop my panting and ebb away the rising coughing fit from laughing too hard.

The rolling waves were a drastic change from our last landscape.

Only a few days ago we had set up in a village that was only mountains and surrounding green, the only blue to see was the sky and even that was on the rare days that it wasn’t overcast.

A strange sensation stirred in my stomach, one that wasn’t due to the laughing.

Lucas placed a large hand on my shoulder and stepped up beside me, seemingly barely affected like I was.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

I covered my mouth as I finally stared coughing, but I didn’t tear my eyes away from that vast ocean.

“I don’t know,” I frowned, shaking my head, “something just seems a little off.”

“Off?”

“Yes, it doesn’t to you? We were barely in the last town for two days and then we have to hastily pack up and leave to come here, what for?”

His large fingers squeeze my shoulder and he gives me his award winning smile that had men and women swooning.

“You know the Big Guy, he always has a plan and we’ll find out by the afternoon.”

Oake, or Big Guy as a few performers liked to call him, was the founder of this peculiar circus and he was just as mysterious as the circus itself.

No one knew when he founded it.

No one knew why.

All they knew was that they could trust this rosy cheeked, podgy man with a heart of gold and hair the wildest shades of green that were, much like his circus, unbelievably real.

“I know,” I sighed with a nod, “I know, I just wish that he would tell us what’s going on sometimes.”

“Me too, but unfortunately it’s not always our place to know.”

Lucas stretched his large arms above his head and yawned widely, showing off his sharp canines while his brown and black flecked tail swayed behind him.

“I don’t know about you but I’m beat, I’m going to head to bed.”

“I think I’ll stay up a little longer,” I shrugged, smiling up at him, “sleep well though.”

“You too when you get there and don’t let Oake’s plans keep you up, I doubt it’s anything to worry about.”

He gave me a tired look of reassurance and then waved as he turned away, heading around the big top tent to his hidden blue one.

I watched him leave then looked back to the sea, wishing I could ignore this strange feeling that refused to settle.

Chapter Text

It seemed that I had barely been asleep for more than a couple of hours before I was violently shaken awake, my bed rocking as I was pushed and pulled to and fro.

“Get up, ya lazy bum, Oake is calling for you.”

That sultry voice with just a hint of an accent told me that Lutfiyah, a flexible acrobat and Goddess of a woman, was the one who dared disturb me.

An unladylike groan came from me as I swatted at the persistent hand attached to my shoulder, wanting nothing but the precious embrace of sleep.

“Why? Can’t someone else do it?” I grumbled.

“Apparently not, he’s asking for you specifically.”

With a long sigh, I rolled over and blearily opened my eyes to look up at her.

A small bit of sunlight streamed in from the opening of my tent and somehow managed to halo her perfectly, as if she weren’t glorious enough with her tanned skin, ridiculously long black hair with white streaks that she almost always wore in pigtails and a body to die for.

Lutfiyah was my direct opposite, tall, well curved and lithe and she knew it, she played to it well with the audience who would be enraptured by her flexible long legs.

What really stood out were the black and brown jackal ears that stood atop her head and the matching tail that swayed behind her, nearly constantly wagging.

“How do you do that?” I mumbled.

“Do what?”

“Manage to stand so perfectly that the light hits you, haloing you like a deity.”

She grinned widely, showing off her sharpened canines and the two broken teeth that were a result of her kidnapping by a group of thugs trying to drain her of her essence.

“Magic, my dear, simple magic.”

I rolled my eyes and sat up, letting the thin cover I called a duvet fall away and expose me to the chill of the morning, it was starting to get to that weather where I should wear more than merely some black leggings and a bra to bed as the sun no longer offered heat, it was just sticking around for show.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I looked up at Lutfiyah who was still lingering around.

“You don’t need to supervise me getting dressed, I’m a big girl, I can manage.”

“Maybe but maybe I also wanna supervise the lil lady.”

I huffed and grabbed my blue tunic from the end of the bed, slipping it over my head.

“What have I told you about calling me that?”

Lutfiyah laughed and shrugged melodramatically.

“Just calling it how I see it.”

“We can’t all be built like trees; you and Lucas stole everyone else’s height.”

“And we use it to our advantage,” she laughed, “but fine, I know when my presence isn’t wanted.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my brown boots, looking at her pointedly.

“If I didn’t need these, I’d throw one of them at you.”

“Aww, love ya too.”

Lutfiyah blew me an exaggerated kiss and then bounced out of my tent like a giddy child, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she giggled a little on her way too.

That was one thing we managed to share, the energy we had in the mornings was enviable and a few times people had made comments about how inhuman it was that we could up, dressed and gone within fifteen minutes of waking up.

Ironic really, being called inhuman by beings that were everything but human.

With a grunt of effort, now that I was suited and booted, I hefted myself onto my sore feet and awkwardly waddled my way out of the tent and through the morning dew covered grass until my feet had woken up enough for me to walk normally.

The vast camp of tents was mostly silent and dark as I passed, most people still asleep to regain some much-needed energy before another night of magical performances for the unsuspecting villagers.

Although each tent was exactly the same, it was easy to tell who was sleeping in which one.

Sometimes a distinctive snore would come from inside, the loudest being from Mikin the minotaur with only a horn and a half, or the ghostly sound of a music box would be playing softly for the comfort of the resident like with Relynn, the resident yūrei and physically the youngest of our ragtag group.

As I took a brief glance to my right, I couldn’t help but to smile as I passed my favourite tent.

Lythian, a terrifyingly beautiful and kind hearted drider, had a habit of webbing over the entrance to his tent each night and on mornings like this it would catch the dew and become something intricately stunning.

If the air was quiet enough and you listened carefully, you could hear small clicks and chitterings coming from his tent as he slept, though no such sounds were invading the silence in that moment.

I lingered too long as I stood there and admired the dew in Lythian’s handywork and soon the mist in the air seeped into my clothes and started to chill me.

Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from the webs and continued to the main tent, where Oake was already stood in his ringleader uniform with rosy cheeks and a wild smile.

“Well look what the cat dragged out,” he laughed loudly, “quite literally looking at the state of your hair.”

Subconsciously, my hand moved up to my hair and ran through, my fingers catching on the knots in the strands and making my wince just a little. It wasn’t unusual for me to turn up somewhere with messy hair, I liked having messy hair personally, but being called out on it made me just a little insecure and defensive.

“You can’t expect beauty when you wake me up at stupid o’clock in the morning,” I grumbled, wiggling my fingers through my hair again.

“I wouldn’t have if it weren’t important, as you know.”

“I know,” I smiled, “so what’s so important? Am I on early breakfast duty?”

“No, this is considerably more exciting.”

With the glee of a child, Oake took hold of my wrist and pulled me into the performance tent, leading me through the costume and performance preparation in the back and to one of the side compartments that was usually used for storage, the other side being used as a make-shift infirmary should there be an accident during a show.

For what I’m guessing what dramatic effect, Oake stopped outside the closed tent curtains and let go of my wrist to take a step forward.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” he grinned over his shoulder, my mind adding a weird twisting to the ends of his moustache for some extra flair.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He wiggled his bushy eyebrows, his whole round body jiggling excitedly before he pulled back the curtains to reveal his secret with a loud; “Ta-da!”

I glanced at him warily before taking a step inside, Oake following behind me and letting the curtain drop back into place to give us a false sense of privacy.

After taking barely five steps, I stopped and gaped at the sight before me, Oake coming to my side and resting a hand on my shoulder to give a light squeeze.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?”

I could only stare at the large glass container across from us, a container filled with water that was big enough to submerge the being within but not large enough to act as a long-term habitat.

Their back was turned to us as they curled into themselves, though I couldn’t tell if they were hiding or merely asleep, not that that fact mattered in the grand scheme of things.

What did matter, however, was the way their pale skin became black scales at the waist that then flowed down into a long fishtail, the colour getting lighter the further down they went until the scales and fin were a delicate emerald green.

Though they were curled up, I could still see black hair that danced around their back and shoulders.

“Wow,” was all I managed to gasp.

“He is a beauty,” Oake nodded, “and a lost soul, just like the rest of us.”

Chapter Text

“A lost soul?” I asked, glancing at Oake before taking a few steps towards the tank.

“Yep,” Oake nodded, his hands sliding into his dungaree’s pockets, “fishermen dragged him out of the sea, said he looked sickly and worse for wear.”

“The sea? Shouldn’t that be where he thrives?”

“Apparently not near a cove they fish at, he swam too far and got himself in bit of a rocky pickle, they weren’t entirely sure what to do with him so they contacted me.”

“What to do?” I scoffed out a laugh. “We’re by the sea! They could have taken him out and dropped him off somewhere, that’s his home.”

“Perhaps,” he shrugged, “but they wanted him taken care of first, put in good hands until he’s healed and then we’ll take it from there, if he wishes to return then so be it.”

I stared at him then shook my head but found my energy to argue any point to Oake was pointless.

“Okay,” I relented with a sigh, turning back to face him, “and you summoned me, why?”

“I’d like you to take care of him, nurse him to health as we still don’t have a new one after Amara left.”

“I’m not a qualified nurse, but I can try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Oake smiled then turned to leave the tent once again, “perhaps you can also get him to finally talk.”

I watched the entranceway flap as he exited then sighed softly, shaking my head again.

“Sure, because I’m the authority figure here.”

It wasn’t that I disliked Oake, he was literally a life saver, it’s just that I found his passing the buck to be a little infuriating. As if I knew how to take care of merfolk.

Looking back at the tank, I put my hands on my hips and looked over the glass case.

“How are we even going to cart this around?”

Taking purposefully slow steps, my kept my eyes trained on the being who remained curled into himself with his back turned to me.

With how still he was lying, I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he had passed during our brief conversation, the natural paleness to his skin tone didn’t help with that impression either, especially as it could have been anywhere between white and grey with how the water was distorting his colours.

As I got closer, I could see the slash at the end of his tail that Oake wished for me to take care of.

Any bleeding had near its completion, only small trickles would seep out and rise into the water like a red mist if he moved, one of the only signs that he was still alive and breathing, but the wound still looked long and potentially deep.

Being so close to the glass that I could reach out and touch it with my fingertips was the perfect vantage point for me to see how his tail didn’t end around his hips as stories would always depict.

Instead, the emerald green colour continued into a point that stopped just before the center of his back, accentuating the curve of his spine.

At the side of the tank, leaning against the glass, stood a wooden A ladder that opened wide enough for the top step to be used as a seat, just high enough for the edge of the tank to come up to my hip when I managed to secure it into place and climbed up to sit down at the top.

From this vantage point the water was clearer than I had initially expected upon walking into the tent, from further away it looked murky and dark, but up close it was easier to see through as the sun rose higher over our temporary home.

I stared down at the being curled up at the bottom, lazily running the tips of my fingers through the top of the water, enjoying the feeling of the cold liquid running between them.

“Hey,” I said in way of greeting, “I’m here to fix you up, if you’d just pop your head up and say hello back.”

He stirred briefly, then returned to being motionless and unresponsive.

“Mind if I come in with you? Just to check your tail…or fin, whichever you’d prefer to call it.”

There was still no response, so with a sigh I carefully climbed back down and moved out of the room to our humble medical bay which sat opposite the new tank room, which mostly consisted of two beds, a desk and two cupboard that held medical supplies such as bandages and syringes, the other one containing cleaning products for wounds and bed linen.

Not being experienced in merfolk medical care, I grabbed some antiseptic lotion, some bandages, a needle and thread and some gauze, anything that would usually be used to take care of a slash on any non-water dwelling folk.

It wasn’t topnotch care, but it was all we had until we happened across a medical professional who would join our ranks.

With the items bundled in one arm, I made my way back to the storage side and bapped the opening aside so that I could walk in.

As I stepped inside, I finally met the eyes of the man I was to take care of.

He had moved so that he could press a hand to the glass and stare out as I came in, his facial expression unreadable, his eyes blank from what I could tell at the distance I was stood.

“Wow, look at who is finally registering me,” I smiled, walking closer.

He watched me move, his eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and head tilted with his mouth set in a thin line.

The colour of his eyes were striking as I neared and they became clearer, the darkness of his hair that was floating around his gaunt face really brought out the blue within them, which occasionally seemed to flicker to mix with green under the light.

Somehow, I managed to resist the cliché urge that bubbled up inside me to put my hand on the glass over his own webbed fingers. Instead, I returned to the ladder and climbed to the top to sit down again, carefully setting the equipment down on my lap.

A splash came from beside me and I stupidly jumped, as if I shouldn’t have been expecting him to join me at the top of the tank.

Resting his arms atop the edge of the tank, he pulled himself up just a little to rest his chin on top of where he had them crossed.

It wasn’t a surprise that his arms were toned, not muscular but definitely well defined, though the tone of his skin alarmed me just a little.

His eyes were sunken, his cheeks gauntly thin and his skin tone was a sickly grey, most likely from blood loss, the gills on the sides of his neck looked an angry red and twitched as he switched from breathing through the water to breathing in air.

“You startled me,” I laughed softly, earning nothing but a continuous stare in response.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the situation, so I introduced myself before continuing, “Can you understand me?”

We continued to stare at one another before he finally nodded slowly, almost seeming uncertain.

“Great,” I smiled, trying to ease the growing tension brought on by his hesitance, “do you mind if I have a look at your injury?”

Pushing away from the edge at arm’s length, he refused to break eye contact until I finally looked down to the water where blood was seeping out and dying the liquid a faint red, beneath I could see the green fin moving as he stared at me uncertainly.

“I just want to fix it up for you, that’s what we do here.”

A low growl seems to come from his throat before he dives back beneath the water and out of my reach yet again, I could only sigh as I watched him drift back to the bottom of the tank.

Why couldn’t something be easy? Just once.

Chapter Text

By the time breakfast rolled around, I had given up on trying to coax the merman out of his solitude at the bottom of the tank.

My stomach growled as I ducked into the kitchen tent, where I was instantly hit by a wall of noise as the circus residents chattered between themselves and their cutlery hit against the ceramic that was being used.

Lucas, being the giant that he was, managed to spot me over the crowed from his table and gave an excited yell of my name and an enthusiastic wave, his sharp teeth exposed through his grin.

“Hey,” he greeted as I neared the table, once I’d finished battling my way through the throngs of our fellow outcasts, “I hear you had a special task, how’d it go?”

“About as well as you can imagine trying to coerce a fishman out of his depths to be.”

“As predicted,” he nodded, pushing a plate across the table as I sat down, “well, I picked you up something, so eat up and try again later.”

“Aww,” I cooed as I pulled the plate closer, “you do take care of me.”

“We gotta take care of our own, right?”

I smiled at him and picked up my fork, quickly scattering some salt onto the scrambled egg with my other hand before delving in to settle my rumbling stomach, the half-baked rolls a perfect compliment.

“Do we have the rota for today?” I asked before shoveling another forkful of egg into my mouth.

“Indeed we do,” Lucas said, picking up his tankard to orange juice, “I’m on duty with our spindly-boy.”

From opposite me and just a little to my right came a long sigh.

Looking up, I saw Lythian shooting a look of pure exasperation to the wolf, his red eyes and night black skin accentuating his features and giving even the simplest expression an aura of nobility.

“You know I hate that name,” he said in a voice so soft it could have been whispered.

“Just call him Bone Breath in return,” said the moth being with a docked wing beside him, giving a smile as he rested a finely furred hand atop Lythian’s own, the brown and black complimenting one another.

Harlyn smiled to his arachnid boyfriend from behind the ruffle of brown fur around his neck, his one non-crooked antennae twitching a little as his head tilted, causing Lythian to smile in return and turn his hand in order to lace their fingers together.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” the drider replied.

“Then I shall do it for you.”

I laughed and shook my head, turning back to my food and Lucas.

“And what am I doing?”

“I don’t think you’re down for anything,” Lucas replied with a shrug, “I guess boss assumes you’ll be working on the fish guy all day.”

“I can’t do that, I’m not sitting there staring at his tail, no matter how gorgeously coloured it may be.”

The wolf shrugged, ripping his own roll to scoop up a bit of yolk from his fried egg.

“Either ask Oake or just join me and Lyth, the more hands the merrier.”

I snickered, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you being ironic?”

“Not at all, he may be a spider but he’s still only got two hands, the rest are legs.”

I opened my mouth to reply then shrugged and shoved more egg into my mouth, nodding as I chewed.

“Conceded.”

Breakfast continued on as ever with friendly banter and no talk of the strange newbie we had acquired, hopefully legally.

The ones on kitchen duty tidied up the dining area and put leftovers aside as the rest of us set off in scattered directions, getting to work in order to set up for the night’s show while I went searching for Oake in hopes of getting my own instructions.

Mentally, I was begging to not be sent back to the merman and to be given a task that would actually entail some form of labour but my hopes were small and I was certain that Oake would be wanting some form of miracle from me.

As I had expected, he was in his makeshift office with his feet up on his desk as he leaned back in his seat, an accordion singing wonkily as he attempted to play it with a cheery smile.

“Ah! Good morning,” he yelled a little too enthusiastically, “coming with updates I hope.”

“Only if you wish to hear about him not talking to me.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Beyond a nod that he understands me? Nada. Wouldn’t even let me look at his injury.”

“I see,” Oake sighed, running a hand through his hair which seemed to be turning a lighter shade of green as opposed to grey in his aging process. “That is a hassle, we can’t have them getting sick.”

“I’m sure he can take care of it himself, given that he’s in the correct water type.”

“Which is guaranteed, it took us quite a while to collect it all and bring it back to the circus.”

“How did you even find time to do this?”

“There’s resources for everything,” he chuckled, “now, can you please continue trying to bond with the new one? At least get a name?”

“So that is my day’s task? To try and converse with a merman who doesn’t wish to speak?”

“If you would.”

I gave a soft sigh and a small salute before making my exit back to the big top tent and the side compartment that held out new performer, who I would have to somehow incorporate into one of our performances.

The trouble with this is that we’d never had a purely water based act before, there had been the occasional water being who could also survive for periods on land but never anything this restrictive, so the first hurdle to get over would be how we’d display a water story.

Before heading to the big top side area, I made a detour towards my personal tent to snatch up my notebook with full expectation to spend more time writing out ideas than communicating with the newbie.

The cheery music being played as I walked to the tent, notebook tucked under my arm, did nothing to alleviate the onset of feeling useless but there was nothing I could do but smile and let the show continue.

Hopefully, I’d be able to get some results by the night’s performance.

Chapter Text

Time passed in its usual blur as the circus was getting set up, though rather than bustling about and laughing with the others I found myself sat atop the steps leading up to the tank, hunched over my notebook as I scribbled ideas or words in the hope that they would become something bigger.

I was failing, but at least I was trying.

The water in the tank remained still and the only other sound to drown out the scratching of my pen was the music the others played in rotating turns as they worked, as per the usual routine.

Here or there someone would come by with a treat, a drink or just to check on me but they never stayed for long as there was always more work to be done and safety nets to be secured and tested.

Truthfully, though I was allowed my own time to get lost in my own world, I was bored.

Nothing was springing from the page and begging to be turned into as beautiful a fairytale as my shoddy writing could make so, I found myself mostly writing magical buzzwords in the hopes of something flowing.

My muscles tensed as I sat up straight, the pull being both awful and satisfying.

With a loaded huff, I glared across the tent as my leg bounced on the metal step and my pen tapped continuously atop the indented paper.

Once the tapping started getting on my nerves, I decided to spare my butt more aching and finally clambered down from my perch, although from the aching and soreness the damage had already been done and I wouldn’t be sitting down again for a little while.

Stepping away from the ladder, I raised my arms above my head in a satisfying stretch, even adding in a little bit of a yoga move I’d seen others do by bending slowly to one side and then the other, adding an added bit of stretch to the muscles.

Once all my knots were stretched out, I put my hands on my hips and stared towards the entrance as if that would somehow answer my brewing question: What should I do now?

A splash so dainty it could have been my imagination drew my attention and I turned to look back at the tank I’d spent so long sat beside, writing in near blissful silence.

Now my mer-friend had decided to finally join me, swimming to the top of the tank and resting his head atop arms that were crossed on the edge of the thick glass container.

“Well,” I said with a smile, “look who decided to join us.”

“I needed to rest,” he replied, tilting his head and making his fringe fall into his face, “in order to heal.”

His voice took me by surprise, articulate, smooth and yet gravelly but not in an off-putting way, more like a voice that I would love to read me a thousand books as I tried to sleep.

It sent a small shiver down my spine, not that he needed to know that.

Shaking my head, I tried to clear away the growing haziness and ignore the siren’s effect from a mere single sentence.

“How are you feeling?” I asked by means of distraction.

As I moved closer to the tank, I had to crane my head up to look to the top of the tank lest I end up watching his tail as it moved fluidly back and forth through the water.

Or did they prefer the term fin?

I’d have to ask him at some point now that we seemed to be getting past the stroppy, water-being stalemate.

“Better,” he replied, looking down at me, “if not still sore.”

“Will you let me look today? Or do you plan on growling at me again?”

His face scrunched up and he diverted his eyes from me, I almost wanted to say that it was in shame.

“I do apologise for being so uncouth.”

I raised my eyebrow and snorted out an undignified laugh, giving him a shrug.

“It’s okay, we all have moments and you were distressed.”

My eyes drift from his sculpted face and arms down to his tail, or fin, to give it a better look.

Now that I was paying attention to it, I could see the gash towards the bottom where the scales ended and it fanned out into what I could only describe as a webbed membrane that was near opaque in the water.

Other injuries were noticeable now that he was extended and not hunched into himself, smaller cuts littered around his tail as well as a few scratches and bruises around his torso and abdomen just above where skin and scale met.

As he moved, I could see light discolouration coming from the wound, something which was mixed faintly red and white in the liquid.

I made a mental note to suggest changing the water regularly to Oake, no matter how big a pain in the ass it would be.

“Perhaps so, but that doesn’t give me the excuse to turn primal on you.”

“Think nothing of it, I’ll consider it a rare sight that I will cherish.”

His eyes trailed me as I moved back to the ladder and climbed to the top yet again, my butt already begging for mercy after having spent so long sat on the top rung.

As I neared the top, he used the edge of the tank to lead himself around, much like I would in a pool that was too deep for me when I was a child, though he obviously wasn’t doing it to keep himself from slipping under and getting water in his eyes.

“Is it that rare?” He said, looking at me with a face that was so stoic that it almost came across as menacing.

“Do you not think so?” I retorted as a means of distraction.

“My kind are known for being primal, deadly and man-eating.”

“Sirens or merfolk?”

“Does it truly matter?” He grinned, eyes narrowing as his displayed canines proved to be white and prominently pointed. “Whichever you’d prefer to be eaten by, though I formally prefer to be called Loki.”

“None would be my preferred option, but thank you for finally giving me your name.”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into a small smirk, “Suit yourself.”

I rolled my eyes a little and took a hinting glance down to his fail.

“So, can I see?”

A low chuckle came from him and he pushed himself away from the edge of the tank, eyes boring into mine.

“You can, but you’ll have to come into the water.”

There was that pull again, lulling me into a haze and tugging at my brain to coax me into listening to him, persuading me that it was right and all the common sense nagging quietly at the back of my head was wrong.

Clasping onto the edge of the tank, I clenched my eyes shut and shook my head in another attempt to clear it.

“Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Trying to invade me with your mer-magic.”

He seemed to freeze for a moment, his eyebrows raised as he stared at me.

I eyed him warily, all my muscles tense and my senses on high alert for the sign of the smallest flinch from him.

Instead of attacking, after a too long moment between us, he threw his head back and cackled like a madman who had heard the funniest joke of his life.

“What’s so funny?”

Once his slowing laughed, he looked back at me with a wide smile and eyes full of mirth.

“Mer-magic? Really? How ridiculous,” he chuckled again as he swam closer to the edge, “just for that, I feel almost obliged to allow you a look at my tail.”

“Oh,” I said slowly, giving him a relieved smile of my own, “so you do prefer to term tail.”

He gave me a look as if I were an alien with four heads then dipped beneath the water, doing a manoeuvre I could barely comprehend through the ripples in the liquid before his tail splashed out and rested over the edge of the tank, the settling water making it easier to see that he was now staring up at me expectantly.

I was astounded at the size of the tail and the ending fin, the water he was submerged in appeared to be hiding just how big the dimension of this thing was.

Though it thinned out towards the bottom where the tail fanned out into fin, the tail itself thickened out as it dove into the water and was worth at least leg legs plus an extra half, which was no small feat as my thighs weren’t exactly thin.

Running my hand over the scales, which shimmered beneath the makeshift lights we had set up, I was met with toughness and a feeling that was close to hard muscle beneath my fingers.

I could have sat there for hours marveling at it had it not been for him twitching, flicking his fin up to barely scrape beneath my chin.

Glaring into the water, I see him give me another look that was telling me to get on with it and the last thing I wanted to do was be on the receiving end of an impatient slap from something that strong.

I give his tail a gentle rub and hold up a finger on the other hand, telling him to wait a second while I got up, awkwardly shimmied around his tail and climbed down the ladder to grab the medical kit and to give myself a moment to cool down.

If he was going to keep using that lulling power his kind had on me then my job just got significantly more difficult.

Chapter Text

“What's this?”

I jumped at Lucas' sudden intrusion, my attention distracted from the bandage I was wrapping.

“You giving me a heart attack, apparently.”

He only grinned and chuckled in response, nearing the tank as he eyed the tail currently draped over my lap.

“I'm just finishing up with wound nursing,” I explained after a short lull, instinctually looking to my right where a collection of discoloured cloths sat beside my thigh.

“Still? You've been in here for hours.”

“Strangely enough, Lucas, a wound left to fester for a long period tends to get a little nasty and takes a while to clean thoroughly, that and I had to wait for him to wake up and deign me worthy to speak to.”

He nodded slowly, eyes following the trail from the tip of the tail and down into the tank, where the newbie was currently floating upside down in a blissful state of relaxation, his eyes closed as though he were merely napping and wasn’t having a festering wound cleaned.

“They seem pretty chilled for someone having their insides probed.”

“He's been very good,” I nodded, “not a squirmer, unlike some we know.”

“Ah, good old Isa, you wouldn't have thought she'd be such a wimp considering her kind literally thrive from causing others misery.”

“I think there's a difference between being an omen of death and having a cut cleaned.”

“Pfft, barely.”

I rolled my eyes, despite the smile that gave away my amusement.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's break time, time for food.”

“What? Already?”

“Time flies, hm?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, running a gloved hand through my hair. “I'm almost done here, so I'll have to catch up and eat a little behind.”

“Got it, I doubt you'll be the only late eater but I'll make sure some food is kept back.”

“Thank you, Luc,” I smiled, turning back to the bandage.

Luckily the wound wasn't around a part of his tail that was too thick for my short arms to reach around, it had already taken long enough for me to dry it enough so be able to get a bandage on in the first place, even if it would ultimately be pointless once it's dropped back into the water.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a movement as dark hair broke the surface of the otherwise still water and narrowed eyes glared towards Lucas as he left.

“He has tainted the air,” he finally said after the tent flaps had long stilled.

“With the smell of wet dog, maybe,” I snickered, “but don't let his scent or size fool you, he's a sweetheart.”

“You're fond of him?”

“Well we are good friends.”

“Hm.”

I looked at him, eyebrow quirked a little.

“You don't sound like you believe me.”

He looked up at me, something briefly crossing through his eyes that I couldn't decipher.

“I wouldn't know true friendship, so I shall take your word for it.”

“You've never had friends?”

“How much longer until I've healed up?”

I found myself frowning at his sudden diversion but wouldn't question it further on the offchance that I upset him.

With a long sigh, I gave him a slight smile to show I meant no harm in my questions and shrugged lightly.

“I’m not entirely sure,” I replied, tying off the bandage, “I’ve never treated your kind before so I’m not entirely sure the healing rate for merfolk.”

“So this will be a learning experience for you.”

I laughed softly, giving his tail a little pat before gathering up the sullied cloths in my hands.

“Indeed it will be.”

Taking the cue, he lifted his heavy tail and pulled it back into the tank, righting himself to rest against the top of the tank once again as I carefully climbed down the ladder.

“I’m going to get something to eat, would you like anything?”

He stared at me, his head tilted a little before he nodded.

“Some meat and alcohol would be well received.”

I raised my eyebrow a little bit but snickered and nodded, turning to head out of the tent to throw the cloths into the closest wash bucket.

“Okay, party-mer, coming right up.”

Chapter Text

True to his word, Lucas kept a plate aside for me in the kitchen.

It wasn’t much, just a buttered roll, some cheese and some meat, but it was more than enough to stave my hunger until the evening meal, that was when the big ‘performance night’ feast would be so all the acts have the needed strength and nutrients to tide them over the night.

Only three workers skittered around the kitchen and dining area as I ate.

An older elf woman, who went against every mould weaved in stories of old of what an elf should look like, was racing to and fro on her stumpy legs to pass plates over to a hunched goblin behind the serving table.

Here, he would scrape away the leftovers into their right containers and inedible scraps into another, though bones and marrow would be kept to one side for those like Lucas who could feed on them later in one physical form or another.

The last working resident, the tallest forest dweller I had ever seen with the most beautiful antlers sprouting from their exposed skull, though one was snapped during an escape from villagers trying to use them for some ritual, was sweeping crumbs and spills off of the floor, their gammy right hoof causing them to hobble as they walked back and forth.

My eyes trailed after them as they all worked and laughed together, chattering away to pass the time of their duties before moving on.

Though I didn’t participate, I still smiled and laughed along at their bantering while taking my fill of the food, enjoying a moment of relative peace before returning back to the newbie.

While he was in my mind, I took a moment to stop and really think about him and his kind.

I still didn’t know a thing about merfolk beyond anyone’s basic understanding of them, I didn’t know their healing time, if they often needed a change of environment and if beer and meat could tide him over or if he’d have more extensive dietary needs the longer he was with us.

Another thing that played at the back of my mind was his beauty.

Of course, over the course of my years I had heard many stories of many beautiful merfolk, but I’d also commonly heard that they were mere fables and that the real things were hideous creatures to behold.

Loki was proving otherwise and something about that put me on edge, though I couldn’t fully place my finger on why.

Stories were stories, I created them all the time.

“Are you all right?”

I flinched a little and looked to my left and then up, meeting the black, almond shaped eyes of Faestus, the brown furred and moss-draped forest dweller.

They were resting their brush and bucket in the corner, where it would rest until the evening meal.

“Oh, yes,” I smiled with a soft sigh, “I just got a little lost in my own thoughts.”

“Anything you wish to talk about?” They asked in deep baritone, tilting their horned head curiously, the sockets where eyes would be hollow but somehow still emotive.

“Not unless you know anything about merfolk and their keep.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between us as they think, head rocking either way as if they weren’t sure whether to nod or shake it.

“I may know a few things, but only a few.”

“That’s probably still a few more than me.”

“Would you wish for me to share?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, only if you’re done.”

“I have plenty of time,” they nodded with an added jutter to their skeletal jaw.

Taking one of the taller stalls that Oake had provided for the larger residents, Faestus sat down opposite me and rested their hands atop the table, linking their black clawed fingers together as they stared into my soul, I assumed…they could have also been simply taking a moment to settle.

“What would you like to know?” They finally asked.

“Honestly? Anything and everything,” I huffed a laugh, shoving a bit of cheese into my mouth.

“That could be difficult, there are many things that entwine myth with truth and not all are decipherable.”

“I see, so I guess we can start with the basics like,” I pulled my mouth to the side as I thought, “what’s the difference between sirens and merfolk?”

“I believe that merfolk are known to be less deadly to humans, commonly falling in love with them,” they chuckled lightly, “and sirens come in more variety, there are those of water and those of air, though those are the only ones known of.”

“Okay, but would you be able to tell the difference between the two water kinds with simple looking?”

“Perhaps, if you know what you are looking for, but we must remember that stories have shifted what we must be searching for to tell those differences.”

“Wonderful,” I sighed.

“Has he sung to you yet?”

I look at them from over my cup, thickly swallowing what I had just sipped as I lowered my cup back to the table.

“Not to me, no and I can’t say if he has at all.”

“I suppose we would know if he had, not all here are exempt to a siren’s song.”

“So, be cautious if he starts to sing, got it.”

“Though don’t believe that’ll tell you if he is a siren or not, as merfolk also have the ability to sing a siren’s song.”

With a loud groan, I dropped my head into my hands and grasped onto the roots of my hair to give the roots a tug.

“This isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.”

“Did you truly think it would be?”

“No, but I can dream,” I settled into slouching against the table, resting my chin on my palm in a way that smushed my cheek and pulled at my mouth. “What about a merfolk’s beauty?”

“What of it?”

“Well, are they all beautiful?”

Faestus merely shook their head and looked at me with an expression of amusement, something easily missed by those who didn’t spend extended time around a creature whose features consist of nothing but bone limitations.

“Are all humans? And what of those who can use magic to alter things to be how they wish?”

Narrowing my eyes, I shove my final bit of meat into my mouth with a disgruntled huff and sat up straight once again.

“One last thing before I get back to him them,” I said while standing from my spot, hands resting on the table, “is beer and meat a common diet need for them?”

Faestus tiled their head once again and shrugged their broad shoulders.

“Perhaps not a need but it makes sense, doesn’t it not? If you spent your time drowning sailors and causing ship crashes then would you not get a taste for their cargo?”

“That…makes a lot of sense,” I nodded, moving to the leftovers to load up my plate with bits of spare meat.

“Oi!” Pig-nosed Mote sniped, swiping at my hand, “they ain’t for yous.”
Flinching the plate away, I gave him a look of disgruntlement while Faestus stood from their stool, moving over to us to set a large hand on the goblin’s shoulder.

“Please relax, the meat is for our new resident and they must keep their strength up to heal and join our troupe.”

Mote cricked his head to meet Faestus’ gaze and then scoffed, which sounded more like a choked snort.

“’Spose.”

Shaking my head, I gave them a thankful look, swiping a small bottle of ale from the end of the table before stepping away with the intention to leave.

Until a thought struck me.

“Wait, one final thing,” I said, turning back to them, “should I be wary around Loki? He hasn’t posed a threat so far bu-”

“Always be wary of those around you, even those you believe you trust as they are the ones who may hurt you the most, though never live believing all will.”

I stared at them and then nodded slowly, continuing on my way out of the tent.

Chapter Text

The atmosphere was hectic in the back of the tent.

Beings were racing to and fro, yelling for props or costumes and other adjustments in a frenzy as the cacophony behind the curtain got louder.

“Please, calm down!” Oake yelled, turning one way and then another on the spot as he projected his voice in a way that was wholly unique to him. “This is like no other performance, please keep your nerves and don’t run into one another.”

Lucas followed Oake’s path by turning his head as the ringleader ran past to frantically grab a piece of lace that was caught up in the performer’s shoe.

The werewolf rolled his eyes and shook his head with a wry smile.

“He always gets so worked up on performance night.”

“Mr. Perfectionist,” I smiled at him with a glance before returning back to my script pages.

“You’d figure he’d trust us by now.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, flipping to the next page, “remember that time Jandro’s hair caught fire?”

“Yeah, but he was a demon, he didn’t even notice.”

“Try telling Oake that, the crowd seemed to love it,” I shrugged, flipping all my pages into place before tapping them into a cleaner pile using my knee.

“They can be a bloodthirsty lot.”

“Very true,” I nodded, standing up from my spot.

“Though, not all of them are.”

My eyebrow raised as Lucas looked at me with a sheepish smile.

It had been a long time since I’d witnessed such an expression from the giant man who was usually boisterous and ready to face just about anything with a huge grin and a teasing flex of his muscles.

To see him almost shyly looking towards the ground was a strange sight to behold, something more akin to a child than a huge, bearded werewolf.

“Lucas,” I said slowly, trying to contain my smile, “what are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a soft chuckle, lifting his head, “at least, not yet but maybe there’ll be something soon.”

“And you’re dropping this on me now?”

Lucas adjusted the collar to his costume and shrugged.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure that my invitation was accepted, but he’s here,” he smiled widely, “I can smell him among the crowd.”

“Okay,” I nodded with a long, dramatic sigh while stepping up behind him, “I guess I’ll have to wait until you’re done performing to hear the story of how you met, hm?”

My hands ran up his back, sealing the well-worn Velcro that would hopefully keep his costume in place.

“’Fraid so, but I promise to tell you.”

“Of course,” I laughed, patting his shoulder, “go get ‘em.”

He gave me a grin and a wink before stepping up to the curtain, waiting for his cue as I walked to a side exit where my usual perch to watch the performance sat.

This perch was a high stool that gave me a vantage point of the performers, mostly hidden by the audience but placed in sight of the others so that they could turn to me for guidance over a forgotten line or some such should they need it.

Crossing one leg over the other, I set my notepad on top of my knee to prepare to take notes during the performance.

One day, I hoped to gain enough confidence to join them in standing before a crowd.

Dress-up was something I always enjoyed, parading around the streets in costume to round up excitement for the circus was one of my favourite things to do once we had set up.

Sadly, due to overseeing Loki’s care, I had missed the opportunity this time around and couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

I’d make up for it next time and Loki’s health was more important, at least it was a rational reason to stay behind.

The show played out well, better than I ever could have anticipated it turning out from paper.

The crowd seemed taken in by the characters on display, especially the outcast Prince portrayed by Harlyn in a green tunic and brown trousers and Lythian’s interpretation of the spider Queen, who looked impeccably regal with his hair done up in flowing ringlets, the colour accentuated by the garish red cape and corset he was wearing.

Lucas had taken control of the storyteller, enchanting the audience as he set the scene of forbidden romance.

Throughout the story he travelled through the crowd, interacting with them in a way that only his charm could work, some days he would give out sweets, others props and sometimes, much like today, he was play the part of an improved smart-ass.

The children within the crowd watched his every move as he bounded from row to row, recanting the tale of woe and the women, and some men, seemed besotted by him.

My eyes scanned the crowd as the light dimmed from Lythian’s webbed corner of the stage, where he had just finished a soft song in that enchanting voice of his about star-crossed lovers, to find the spotlight that would shine on Lucas to announce the intermission.

The spotlight found him stood at the far left of the semi-circle of seats, his hand lifting the knuckles of a blushing man whose black hair was sloppily chopped in the way that I recognised as home cut, something we travellers were accustomed to.

He blinked in false bewilderment and then let go, looking around in exaggerated surprise.

“Well,” he started, his booming voice being the exact reason why he was the perfect storyteller for the circus, “while I too get caught up in a tryst of my own, perhaps it is time that we take a break, hm?”

He made a point of eyeing the man over and wiggling his eyebrow.

“I say fifteen minutes should just about suffice.”

The crowd laughed as he pulled the poor man out of his seat and lifted him into his arms like a bride just as the lights dimmed, leaving the crowd murmuring among themselves as we all shuffled into the back of the tent.

There was an excited buzz surrounding us, not only because the performance was going exceedingly well but because the display that was exceedingly uncharacteristic of our resident werewolf.

Sure, he knew that he could pack on the charm if he truly wanted to but rarely did he ever display such obvious hints in front of a crowd.

We were eager to see if he would bring this man backstage during the intermission to introduce us or if, much as we were expecting, we would have to wait until the night was over and the crowds had dimmed to meet the one who had besotted our darling beast.

Chapter Text

We didn’t get to find out who Lucas’ new interest was that night.

The show continued on with a standing ovation, a rare occurrence and one that had Lythian feeling giddy for hours after, rightly so as he definitely deserved more recognition for his talent and less prejudice over his kind.

Something that wasn’t so rare was meeting some of the audience after, those with questions or who wished to marvel at our group of otherworldly beings.

We didn’t mind too much, Oake was sure that it wasn’t akin to a freakshow and more like meeting an actor after a play, respects would be paid and meetings would be cordial unless you wished to be seen out with loathing looks and a possible curse placed upon your bloodline.

Lucas was nowhere to be found, having disappeared after his final line and the lights went out, keeping us all bubbling with curiosity.

Harlyn and Lythian kept the handful of visitors entertained, answering their questions with Lythian interpreting what Harlyn would sign when asked something only he could answer.

Mikin had his own gaggle of children who were interested in the minotaur, wanting to see him use his strength to bend or lift things that seemed impossible to their small minds, laughs and gasps of awe always chorusing when he performed his latest move.

He’d always been good with children and they seemed drawn to him, if not him then Relynn, though she wasn’t as fond of their attention.

Oake watched on with a wide smile, his arms crossed over his chest.

“What a turn out,” he said, looking over the crowd.

“It’s definitely been one of our bigger nights.”

“Biggest night in a long time,” he nodded.

I smiled, putting my hands on my hips as I rocked in my spot.

“We made profit tonight then?”

“I haven’t counted yet, but I’m expecting so,” he nodded, patting my shoulder. “I am so proud of us, all who have come and gone, we have all come so far.”

“We truly have, it seems as though we’ve hit a lucky streak recently too.”

“Perhaps it’s our new member who has brought us such like, a charm unto himself,” Oake chuckled, taking off his hat to give his pointed ears a chance to breathe for a change. “Speaking of, how is the new recruit?”

“He hardly seems to be a recruit,” I laughed softly, “but he’s getting there, he’s at least let me see to his wound and we’ve been talking.”

“Excellent, I knew that you would be the right choice.”

“I’m glad you have such confidence in me.”

“Of course,” he smiled at me, “I’ve never doubted my family before, well except that one young lad but we don’t talk about him.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head with a smile.

Oake was forever making references to that story and yet it was one I don’t believe any of us had ever heard, though perhaps Faestus knew, as they tended to know just about everything about any subject you could think of.

One day I’ll get to asking them.

With a smile, I stepped away and gave a polite dip of my head.

“Speaking of Loki, I shall go and check on him before we start cleaning for the night.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Oake smiled, returning my nod before wandering off himself to get lost among the crowd.

I take a moment to myself, watching as a mass group mingles before I take my leave, grabbing a lit lantern to light my way through the dark tent rooms until I reach the one containing the tank.

Though the path itself was easy from the main ring, a simple forward and then right, the additional bits and pieces such a props, costumes and hangers now lying around were a nightmare to navigate without some kind of lighting.

It’d all be cleaned up quick enough, much like they were during an intermission, but through the performance it was easier to quickly whip off whatever you were wearing or throw whatever you were using into the dressing area due to the limited time.

Too many times I had caught myself tripping over a tutu or a wand because I couldn’t see where I was going, thinking that I wouldn’t need a lantern for the short trip.

I learned quickly after that.

The least I could do as I made my way through the area was to set things into some kind of coordinated pile, something that would make it quicker to pick up and put away when they were done with the crowd.

Once I was satisfied with the small path of created prop and costume piles, I undid the panels of the tent door and entered the side room.

To my surprise, I saw Loki at the top of the large tank, arms resting on the rim as he stared out towards me, his green tail wading through the water in a repetitive and hypnotic motion.

In this lighting, he looked different.

Altered.

His skin appeared more grey than pale with stark blue veins running through it in ice coloured patterns, his eyes looked taken over by black and his arms appeared as though they had additional fins, covered by a thin layer of sickly grey skin and reaching from wrist to elbow.

His eyes seemed hollower and the teeth in his grin were yellowed, crooked and considerably sharper than they had been mere hours earlier.

This new Loki made my blood freeze as my steps faltered.

All the small hairs on my body prickled and a warning siren was blaring in the back of my head.

“Loki?”

Chapter Text

The twisted figure in the tank tilted their head, the lank hair sticking to the outside of the glass as they stared without blinking, only smiling in a way that sent unpleasant chills through me.

“Loki?” I asked again, shakier this time as my blood ran cold.

“Yes,” he hissed out, the end trailing off into a bitter laugh as his broken black claws drummed on the edge of the tank. “Hideous, hm? Where you looked at me with adoration before you now stare at me in disgust.”

“I never said that,” I protested with a shake of my head, though my voice was still weak.

“You don’t have to, I’ve seen the look,” this thing under Loki’s name leaned over the edge of the tank, sharp and crooked yellow teeth bared as their eyes narrowed, “you think I’m a monster, a siren among the merfolk.”

“Is that what you are? Truly?”

“I am whatever monster they claim me to be.”

I swallowed thickly, a ridiculous fear that he would hear that mere action churning my stomach as we stared at one another, his tail still swaying to and fro in the water.

It was difficult to see the water clearly and nerve-wracking to divert my gaze away from his, but from my peripheral there seemed to be something trailing behind his tail as it moved, a thick colour oozed into the liquid before dissipating again and again on repeat.

Although my entire body was shaking, I held the lantern higher and took a step forward, then another until the light illuminated the water enough for me to see if my eyes had been deceiving me.

Sure enough, as he brought his tail from left to right a mixture of yellow and red followed behind it, seeping into the water then disappearing.

“Loki,” I frowned, watching the bandage I had placed on him earlier slip away and gracefully sink to the bottom of the tank, “your wound is festering.”

“Yes,” he chuckled again, his smile becoming something serene and hauntingly calm. “Scales are a complicated matter to care for, try as you might they die and separate from the healthy ones, practically rotting from you.”

“You have to let me see to it.”

“Why?” He snapped suddenly, the change in volume making me jump and tense up, taking a cowering step backwards.

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“It matters not.”

“It does to me.”

“Once again, why? Why would you care,” he sneered, digging the top of one claw into his hollow cheek and beginning to drag it down, splitting the sickly-looking skin, “if I hurt myself? If I died? We barely know one another.”

My eyes followed the emerging droplet of blood as it built up at the top of the wound and then started to run down his face.

“You would go on living,” he continued, his black eyes boring into mind, “you could forget me, or maybe it’d haunt you, forever playing in your mind th-”

“Loki, stop it!”

“Stop acting like we’re friends! We’re not! You barely know a thing about me and I care less about some human than your kind would a mere ant! You only care to put me on display, to gain money from eyes staring, leering as if I haven’t suffered that fate my entire life! Oh yes, I’m used to the scornful looks of others.”

“I’m not a human!”

I felt dumb the minute that the words left my lips and lowered my head, letting my eyes fall closed as the shame took over at my ridiculous cry, as though that were the important factor in anything that he had just said.

Loki didn’t react beyond another scornful chuckle, his claws dragging along the glass to create a hideous noise that cut through my ears.

A thick silence hung in the air, almost suffocating, the only sound being that of shifting water as he moved about.

Two cold fingers came to my chin, the tips of jagged claws digging in just enough to create a sting as he guided my head back up, the feeling of his skin too reminiscent of something I long wished to forget.

“You think I like being this way?” He said softly, the sombre tone tugging at my heart. “No one likes being seen as a monster but this, everything you all have here, goes against every form of nature that our kind knows.”

I could feel my eyes beginning to water before I had opened them, a dull ache building in my temples as I dared to focus on his too-black eyes that pulled me in like an ancient horror from the bottom of the ocean.

“What you have here isn’t natural,” he continued, slowly shaking his head, “for our kind it’s eat or be eaten and you, innocent little you, are just begging to be prey.”

His expression never shifted from its eerily calm state as he crooked his fingers and started to dig his claws in further, a pained whimper escaped my throat and I shifted to stand on my tiptoes to avoid the pain but he simply followed, keeping his hand in place as he started to drag the imbedded claws towards my throat.

“Loki,” I gasped, though it came out more as a pathetic squeak.

My free hand raised to clasp onto his wrist in an attempt to move his hand away, but his arm was firm and unmovable.

It seemed that he was determined to drag this out and see this through to the end, whatever the end should be.

“Please.”

From the entrance of the tent came a distant but familiar sound of the panels flapping open as footsteps charged inside, soon followed by a cry I couldn’t understand.

A shot of pure white magic flew over my left shoulder and connected with Loki’s shoulder, jolting him enough to dislodge his claws as another shot, set shortly after the first, connected with his torso as he reared back.

The second burst had him falling limply over the edge of the tank, his head and arms hanging down as he started to slip backwards into the water.

“Are you okay?”

I clasped a hand over my wounds and turned to find Lutfiyah, who in turn was frowning in concern as her eyes danced between Loki and myself.

“I’m fine,” I choked out, barely managing a nod before my lips quivered and the tears I’d been holding back finally managed to escape.

She had rushed forward and closed the gap between us in no time, wrapping her arms securely around me as I finally let out a shaken sob, my bleary vision focused on the sinking figure inside the tank.

Chapter Text

“I’ll kill him.”

My eyes trailed the movement as Lucas paced back and forth, his lips pulled back in a snarl as the fur on his tail stood on end.

It was a rare sight, seeing Lucas genuinely angry to the point of fur standing on heckles, but Loki’s wound had certainly wound him up.

“Lucas,” I sighed, though quickly hissed after as Lutfiyah dabbed more cleansing tonic onto the edge of the cut. “Please calm down.”

“Calm down?” He growled, turning to me with clenched fists. “I’ll wring that bastard’s neck! How dare he lay a hand on you!”

A small hand reached out to take hold of his wrist, a brave move for a man of such small stature in comparison to the hulking werewolf.

We still hadn’t been formally introduced to Lucas’ date from the village, but he had this aura of calmness around him that seemed to instantly sooth part of the anger in our friend.

“Luc,” he said softly, “maybe you should listen to her reasoning first.”

Lucas turned to him, his shoulders relaxing a little, though his fur remained bristled.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. “I just hate my family getting hurt.”

“We get it, don’t worry,” I said, being mindful of Lutfiyah’s hands as they worked on securing some gauze under my chin. “I just can’t blame him, something was off with him, different…I don’t think he was fully himself.”

“Or he was showing his true colours.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.”

“What makes you so sure?” Lutfiyah asked, pulling away from me to look over her work.

“I don’t know, all I know is that I think his wound is messing with his head, maybe it’s infected? I can’t say for sure but he looked sick, out of it.”

“Or that’s just part of his kind,” Lucas said, crossing his arms. “We all have things in our nature that we try to fight but there are things we can’t, merfolk aren’t all beautiful and friendly like people want to think, just as werewolves aren’t simply huge fluffy dogs.”

“The humans warp many things for their own comfort,” Lutfiyah sighed, “but I trust her judgement, while merfolk are known to be quite vicious, surely she would know if this was out of character for him after spending more time with him than the rest of us.”

“None of us know him that well,” Lucas reasoned, looking between us all before shaking his head. “We should at least tell Oake.”

I frowned, chewing on my bottom lip as my leg started to bounce with sudden nerves at the thought.

Logically, I knew that Lucas was right in suggesting that we tell Oake of the incident, even if it was an emotional reaction from a rare bout of anger, but I didn’t want to potentially get Loki exiled before he had a chance to heal fully for something that could have been a reaction to an infection.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded, feeling the cut sting at the movement.

“Okay,” I said, looking around, “I’ll tell Oake and try to explain everything I’m thinking, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“I hope so,” Lucas replied, looking solemn. “More for your sake than Loki’s.”

He said nothing further, simply took his date’s hand and pulled him up from his seat, leading them both out into the chilled night and leaving me alone with Lutfiyah.

We watched them both retreat and then, once the tent flap had stopped moving, Lutfiyah snorted a laugh and turned to me.

“That’s quite a height difference, that poor boy could be destroyed.”

“Lut!” I laughed, tapping her shoulder with the back of my hand. “Don’t talk about our friends that way.”

She looked down at me with a mischievous smirk and I couldn’t contain the wide smile on my face, though the stretch was putting a tingle of pain on the edges of my cut.

“I’m just saying, besides…it’s been a while for him, he deserves it,” her smirk turned into a soft smile. “I just hope it’s not another Feli situation.”

A shudder ran down my spine at the name, one we had sworn to never speak of again.

“Yeah,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “I’m glad she got what was coming to her, imagine stringing someone along like that.”

“Turning fetishists are unfortunately a thing,” she sighed.

I only let out a disgruntled hum and shook my head, looking away to try and clear my head of the bubbling irritation.

Lutfiyah laughed again and placed a hand on my shoulder, looking down at me fondly.

“Sorry to ruin your night further.”

“It’s fine,” I shrugged, looking up at her, “I’m sure it was going to be a long one anyway, I doubt I’ll get much sleep.”

“Because of the incident?”

“More because I have to speak to Oake and I’m nervous about telling him, I don’t want to get Loki into trouble.”

“Oh, darling, it’ll be alright, Oake is the most understanding ringleader a family could ask for.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling my shoulders relax just a little.

“I know, but I still won’t sleep.”

Lutfiyah pulled her lips to one side, paused for a contemplative moment and then smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I can help.”

I was about to ask what she meant but she beat me to an explanation, her features shifting as fluidly as moving water.

Her face’s angles squaring out, her shoulders broadening and chest flattening as she gained more height, which I hadn’t thought imaginable given her already tall stature beforehand.

Her black and white speckled hair remained long and in twin tails and her skin remained as flawless as ever, it was enviable how regal she always was whether masculine or feminine and I couldn’t stop my eyes from trailing from the tip of the jackal ears all the way down to the ends of those long legs.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen this,” I said, catching her golden eyes.

“Hasn’t it just?” She chuckled in the pleasantly chilling baritone voice that came with the package. “So what do you say? Perhaps I can tire you out for the night, make sure you sleep real good for the morning.”

My mouth went dry and hung open with little dignity as my brain faltered, uncertain on if I wanted to take up Lutfiyah’s offer.

One half of me was hesitant for no reason and the other half was screaming that it’d be stupid to turn down the shifter’s offer and it really had been a while since I’d last been with anyone.

Licking my bottom lip in the hopes of getting rid of some of the sudden dryness, I then cleared my throat and eased myself off the table, feeling more dwarfed by the masculine form than I had by the feminine one.

“How about you walk me back to my tent and we’ll see where it goes from there?”

The left side of her mouth pulled up in a lopsided smile, showing off a canine as she turned to stand beside me and placed a large hand on the small of my back.

“Sure, darling, I can accept that.”