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Clover always loved the sea.
He loved the way he could stand on a ship and overlook endless, deep blue, how the sun would be at the highest point in the day and the waves would scatter the white light across the ocean surface like a thousand diamonds. He loved the motion of the waves, how his weight naturally adjusted to the rocking of the boat under his feet. The way the open ocean stretched endlessly towards a sky full of stars would always be the most beautiful sight in the world to him. Nothing could ever compare.
So it was obvious to everyone that on the times when his work didn’t send him sailing with the military that his home would be near the ocean. His shack was small, but wellkept and cozy, sheltered from strong weather by the natural cove. He had a small pier on the sand that stretched into the shallow waters, where he could bring out a fishing boat on the days when he had time to spare.
It was his own personal patch of paradise, one he shared with the seabirds on the rocks, the silver fish in the bay, and his dog Failinis, a large mixed-breed who loved water just as much as he did.
Said dog was currently trotting up and down the beach, leaving webbed pawprints in the wet sand as his thick tail wagged slowly, waiting for Clover to finish tying off his boat. He’d taken the little dinghy out for a spin, to where the waters were deep enough to get good catches without the waves overturning him, and he’d gotten lucky as usual. He’d always had unusually good luck.
It was when he hefted up the catches he’d chosen to bring home rather than release that Failinis went mental, baying and howling like it’s the world’s end. Clover put his catches down, too well-trained from military experience to drop them, and rushed over, sans his pistol and cutlass. He usually went without, in his home.
His boots were heavy on the sand as he ran to the far side of the beach, where the sand turned to rocks and interesting things tended to wash up. The sky was grey, tinging black, and he could smell the oncoming storm that would hit later in the night. Failinis stood steady, letting out deep barks that started in his barrel chest and ended up echoing through the cove.
He saw why immediately when he reached the rocks, and spotted the unconscious girl strewn over them.
She couldn’t have been very old, mid-teens, at her eldest, possibly younger. There was a lot of red in the water and it looked like blood, which worried him. He started picking his way carefully towards her, avoiding seaweed so he doesn’t slip.
He doesn’t even think to question why there’s a child passed out on his beach, all that mattered was getting her out of the water, warmed up, and given as much medical aid as he can manage before a doctor arrives.
He jumped down into the waves beside her when he was close enough to do so safely, the red-tinged water lapping up to his mid-thigh. This close he could see how pale she was, her black hair so waterlogged it shone. He slid his arms under her and hefted up to try to get a better grip, and he nearly dropped her when he saw that it’s not just the water that’s red.
Red scales covered her shoulders and the tops of her arms, wrapping around her chest and down her sides until they turned into her tail. Fins stretched from her elbows and poke out of her hair to take the place of ears, and he can only assume she has others.
He was holding an actual gods-be-damned mermaid in his hands, and the poor thing was bleeding sluggishly from a jagged wound on her side, one that looked similar to a shark bite, but not entirely.
He set his awe and disbelief aside and shifted so he had one arm supporting under her back, where he is very careful of the delicate-looking fin he finds there, and the other under her tail, which bends in a way that is definitely inhuman. What she is doesn’t matter, she still needs medical aid.
Navigating out of the rocks is difficult with the added weight. While he would have originally put her at about five foot based on her size if she was a human girl, the tail easily takes her body length up to two metres, and she weighed it.
Failinis has stopped barking at this point, looking rather pleased with himself. Clover looked at him and nodded, telling himself that he’ll give his dog some extra pats after for a job well done. “Good boy.” The tail wagged.
He carried her into his home and hoped that she could survive out of the water long enough for him to dress her wound, possibly suture it if it needed it. He knew how to do the basics for something serviceable, and so he sets to work.
She’s too out of it to respond, her pulse weak and fluttery but there, and she seemed to be able to breathe well enough for now. When her wound is cleaned, stitched, and bandaged, he carries in buckets of water from the ocean and tosses them into the bath, lowering her in soon after. The bandages and dressing were waterproof, so there was no real worry about it doing further damage.
He pulled up a stool in the doorway so he could keep an eye on her, fed Failinis, and grabbed a book of fairytales off his shelf, setting his reading glasses on his nose as he reads the section on mermaids. He listened to the thunder as it rumbled in the distance, steadily growing closer, and the rainfall outside his window calms him down so much he nearly nods off.
When she wakes up, it’s first with a stir, then the confusion kicks in at the unfamiliar place, followed by fear. He set his book down and took off his glasses, staying in his seat as he reached up and rapped his knuckles lightly on the wood to get her attention.
Large silver eyes fixate on him, and he’s struck by how young she looks. The way her eyes seem to almost glow from within is a secondary observation. He lowered his hand from the wood and showed her it was empty, smiling comfortingly without showing his teeth. “Hey,” he kept his voice soft, trying not to spook her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her eyes are so wide and fearful it hurts. He doesn’t like being looked at as a threat. He wanted to bundle her up in a blanket and tell her she’s safe. He stayed still, letting her make the next move. She figured out quickly enough that he wasn’t immediately trying to kill her or anything, so she looked herself over, her eyes going from scared to curious as she looked around the bathroom.
“Where am I?” She asks, voice soft as a lamb’s wool and tinged with an accent he could never for the life of him be able to identify.
He gave her another smile. “Chulainn’s Cove. I found you injured on the rocks and treated your wound. Do you think you’re strong enough to swim yet?” He had no intention of keeping her trapped.
She seemed to consider it, tilting her head before she shook it. How strange that there seems to be such similar language between them. “No, my uncle will come to get me and then I’ll be okay.”
Uncle? So there were more? His own curiosity was desperate to ask her every question he had, but he wasn’t going to throw a bunch of them at a kid who’d just been hurt. Instead he shifted a little bit, so he was leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. Her red tail hung over the edge of the bathtub, translucent white fins flopped over his floor. Her ebony hair’s dried a bit, and he could see that the ends are tinged a similar red to her scales. A few scales speckle her face, just on the top ridges of her cheekbones, and they look almost like freckles.
“What’s your name?” He asked, noticing her fin ears twitching as she spots something that interests her. She reached out to grab it, pale webs between her fingers.
“Ruby,” she said, rather absent-mindedly as she picked up a bar of soap and tilted her head, before she squeaked as it slid out of her grip and hit the floor. “What is that?”
“Soap. It’s slippery when wet,” he couldn’t stop a smile and she shot him an absolutely adorable pout. Reminded him of the look his little sister would give him when she thought he said something silly. “I’m Clover.”
“Clover.” She repeated it, shifting so both her hands are curled over one edge of the bathtub, her head and shoulders peeping over it in fascination. As strange as it is for him to be talking to a mermaid, for her this must be an entirely new world. “Cool name.”
“Thank you. Would you like anything to eat?” He was going to put the kettle on anyway. She said her uncle would arrive soon, so he may as well do his duties as a good host and offer her tea and snacks.
Those big, reflective eyes look at him with the same eternal hope as Failinis’s at dinner time. How could he refuse?
He offered her one of his books before he went to make tea, one without any mermaid stories in it. They weren’t always flattering. Instead he left her with her nose stuck into a story about a princess who lives in a tower, with hair so long it reaches to the ground.
He put the kettle on and set up a platter of biscuits with it as well, pausing before he grabbed some fish. Mermaids probably ate that, he couldn’t really imagine what else they’d eat.
The kettle whistled and he poured the two mugs, carrying it back into the bathroom. He set the tray down and got his own mug, putting in a splash of milk. “Here, tea, biscuits, and some fish.”
Ruby’s eyes lit up as she put the book down beside the tub, grabbing a fish and snap-chomp , eating it in two bites. She gave him a toothy grin. “Thanks!”
“Any time. Tea? Careful, it’s hot.” He smiled and offered the mug, taking a sip of his own. Nothing like a good cup of tea. She grabbed it, wincing a little bit from the heat before she copied his movements and took a sip.
She seemed to give it a fair amount of consideration before she nodded to herself. “It’s good!”
“Better with biscuits.” He dunked his, his natural good fortune making sure it didn’t snap in half and fall back into the mug. She watched him like a hawk before she did the same, losing the first biscuit to the curse of over-soggifying.
She tried again with the second half and her tail flicked in delight as she ate it. He should have guessed. Kids liked sweets everywhere, apparently. “This is so good, surface food is so cool!”
“Glad to help,” he laughed, enjoying the strange moment. “You said your uncle would be on his way?”
“Yep!” She had another biscuit, flecks of white sparkling in her eyes like stars. “My uncle Qrow, he’s the coolest. He doesn’t really like the surface much though. It’s a shame, because I think it’s super interesting. I just have so many things I want to know about it,” she babbled, clutching her mug in both hands as her eyes filled with wonder. “What’s a fire, and why does it, um… burn?”
Her enthusiasm for a world she’d never been to was so familiar to how he’d been, before he’d gotten the chance to sail the seas. Even now he’d just found out that there was even more to his beloved sea then he’d known, and he wanted to know everything.
He smiled and tipped his mug to her, happy to answer her questions as the thunder rolled outside, muffled by the walls of his home. “Well-”
His door crashed open with a deafening crack, the thunder roaring as the sound found a way into his little haven. He was too well-trained to jump, instead one of his hands darted to where there was normally a weapon on his hip while his other set the tea down.
He glanced at Ruby. “Your uncle?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Maybe?”
He stepped out into the hall where Failinis was barking, looking at the figure in the door, rain pouring behind him. Lightning flashed, outlining a swoop of greying hair, scruffy features, a billowy shirt under a dark pirate’s coat. Red eyes sparked with fury as the man in the doorway stomped over the threshold, a knife made from a strange material in his hand.
“Where is she?” He snarled, teeth bared like he was seconds away from ripping out Clover’s throat.
Clover stepped aside to soothe Failinis, petting the dog’s ears to calm him as he pointed. “Down the hall, second door on the right.”
The fabled Uncle Qrow looked at him, eyes swimming with distrust as he took quick steps towards the hall, blade ready. Clover had, admittedly, not been expecting a human like himself.
Well, he assumed Qrow was a human. He couldn’t see any of the animal traits Faunus usually had, and his canines weren’t the customary fangs every single Faunus bore. He got Failinis to calm down enough that his dog nosed at his hand, smelling biscuit crumbs, when he heard a delighted ‘uncle Qrow!’ from the bathroom, followed by the sound of a lot of water displacing all at once. He’d have to clean that.
He heard Qrow’s boots walking over his floor, a faint dragging sound from Ruby’s tail fin, before they came into view, her arms around her uncle’s neck as she looked at him like he was a hero.
She smiled and waved bye to Clover as Qrow carried her back to the door. “Bye Clover, thanks for the tea!”
“You’re welcome,” he smiled back. “Safe swimming.”
Qrow shot him a grumpy look as he reached the kicked-in door, a fish hook gleaming in his earlobe, before he stepped over the threshold and towards the sea.
Clover waited a moment before he hurried to his door, standing in the broken doorway as he watched Qrow wade unflinchingly into the waters of the bay, churned up into seafoam by the storm. A wave crashed over him and Ruby both, and they were gone.
Clover sagged against the wall as the rain came down, Failinis pressing his great head against Clover’s thigh. Clover absently patted his dog as he stared at the ocean, wondering if he’d end up spending the rest of his life searching for a glimpse of mermaids again.
He didn’t know that there was a look of consideration tossed his way by a set of red eyes, before the merman and his niece swam away
Clover took his dinghy out the next day, still awestruck by what had happened. He sat out on the waves, placid after the storm, his reel in the water as he waited patiently for a bite. It was strange, normally this place was alive with fish, but today had been very slow.
He heard a loud splashing sound behind him and turned around, hand falling to his pistol before he relaxed. “It’s you.”
Qrow looked back at him, pale arms resting on the edge of the boat as he kept his torso hefted out of the water. Charcoal grey scales covered his shoulders, mottled with black. The fins stretching from his elbows were a dark red, rich and opaque. Clover noticed a fair amount of piercings glittering along his fin ears, one of which was definitely a fish hook.
He probably should stop staring. “You came back?”
Qrow gave him a onceover, almost like he could stare into Clover’s soul. “... You let me take her.”
“Well, yeah,” he smiled at him. “You’re her family. I was hardly going to keep her trapped.”
Qrow looked at him suspiciously. “Most humans who find her kind aren’t the type to just let them go.”
“Well I think that’s a shame.” Clover set his fishing rod aside, where it could still be within reach if something tugged the line. “I’m Clover.”
“She mentioned.” Qrow’s fin ear twitched irritably. “Bet you’re wondering why I came back.”
“Well, I did ask.” It had crossed his mind.
Qrow rolled his eyes at him before he seemed to steel himself up for something. “... Thank you. She could have been really hurt if you didn’t help her.”
“It was the right thing to do. May I ask what caused the wound? It looked like a shark bite, but there was something off about it.” It was too narrow.
Qrow looked at him suspiciously, his shoulders hunching defensively. “... Dolphin.”
“Oh.” He liked dolphins, but he supposed that they could still be dangerous if crossed. “I see.”
He had so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to be rude. He wanted to know everything about what life was like under the waves he loved so much. He wanted to know what beautiful sights were there. If nothing could compare to the view of the open seas meeting the sky, then what was the same view like from the sea itself?
“You were a human.” He decided to at least get that question asked. “How?”
“Magic.” Qrow twiddled his fingers, and Clover noticed something strange about some of the strands of his hair, darker than the rest. They looked almost like feathers. “You’re a soldier.”
“I am. Atlas Naval Captain, under Admiral Winter’s command.” The kingdoms of Remnant were connected by the sea, and the twin cities of Atlas and Mantle protected them all. He was proud to serve the world and protect the innocent from what lay beyond the edges of the maps.
“Bet you think you’ve been all over the world,” Qrow grinned, a snide twist to it.
“I have. Vacuo, Menagerie, Vale, Mistral, I’ve been to all of them, and further.” He smiled at him. “But I’d say you’ve probably seen just as much.”
“More, even.” Qrow chuckled, the sound low in his throat. Clover thought it was a pretty interesting sound. “You’ve got that same look Ruby has when she wants to grill me about the surface world. Okay. Guess I owe you for looking out for her. Two questions.” He held up a hand, silver rings gleaming on his fingers. Clover noticed he didn’t have the webs between them that Ruby did.
“Isn’t three traditional?” Clover grinned, eyes twinkling with glee.
“You already used one. Don’t make me count that one too.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, the sound bubbling up out of his stomach. He tried to think of something that wouldn’t be too weirdly personal to ask and settled on- “what was that knife?”
Qrow raised a brow and reached down into the water, giving Clover a look at the gills on the sides of his throat, surrounded by dark scales, a necklace with a sideways cross hanging down his pale collarbones. Water droplets still clung to his skin, like beads of glass, and Clover tried not to stare.
The knife was offered to him, hilt first, and he took it, the grip wrapped with red leather and the blade inscribed with a strange pattern. The heft felt strange to him, almost too light. He couldn’t tell if it was metal or some sort of odd stone, now that he was looking at it.
Qrow watched him test the edge, sharp and well cared for, before he made a grabby hand to get it back. “It’s marealite, it’s designed to have no resistance when being swung in water. Ruby’s father gave it to me.”
Clover handed it back. “It’s beautiful.” He caught the flash of a real smile on Qrow’s face at the compliment to his weapon, before it got covered up with the general grumpy scowl the merman liked.
“Alright, one more question. Go on, hurry up.”
Clover had so many, but only one really seemed important. “Will I see you again?”
Qrow’s eyes widened a little bit, like he wasn’t expecting that. He stared at Clover for a moment, Clover’s teal eyes open and honest.
“... no promises.” Qrow gave him a teasing smirk, almost a touch mean but without real malice. “Besides, you got me a good lunch today, you get a lot of fish around.”
“Hang on, is that why my line’s been dead? He laughed, even more at the fact that Qrow had the decency to cop to it and absolutely no shame over it.
“Maybe.” Qrow flashed his teeth at him before he twisted away from the boat, disappearing under the placid surf. Clover leaned over the edge, just in time to see red fins and dark scales disappear.
He sat back in his boat, and right as the merman left his line got a bite.
“Failinis!” He walked away from the safe haven of his cove and into the fog, a lantern in hand as he went looking for his dog. Stars dotted the skies above, barely visible through a break in the clouds. The light from the shattered moon was almost entirely blotted out, leaving him with just his voice and his lantern to find his dog.
He’d let him out for a run while he sat on his pier, and it was only when he noticed the abnormal quiet did worry curl in his gut. It had taken everything in him not to immediately run off and search, but he’d refrained, grabbing his weapons, boots, and a light source before he went to find his dog.
He trekked around the coast’s edge, where the sand faded to leave mud and rock, mist hanging low over the marshy bog. He strained to see much of anything, only his natural luckiness and his knowledge of the lands around his home saving him from the main places where he’d lose a shoe to the ground.
He tried to listen for the sound of Failinis’s deep barks, the silence setting his teeth on edge. This didn’t feel right. Failinis was a good dog, he would never have run off like this.
Clover’s hand gripped his sword as he lifted his lantern higher, remembering the stories his mother told him of hinkypunks, mischievous lantern-bearers who’d lead people deep into fogs, over sinkholes hidden under turf and peat, where they’d fall in and drown.
“Failinis!” He called again, giving a sharp whistle. It was when he rounded a rocky bluff, pebbles and gravel crunching, that something touched the edge of his hearing, a voice, a whisper? He turned, hearing it mix with the faint sound of the waves lapping on the shore.
It wasn’t a whisper, the more he listened, the more he realised. It was a song. Soft and beautiful and washing away his worries, soothing his soul as he kept walking. He heard the mud squelch under his boots and ignored it, all thoughts of finding his dog leaving his head as he followed the voice. His hands went slack as he walked, the lantern falling to the ground as he left it behind.
The high soprano warbled and echoed, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. He heard the sounds of mud under his boots turn to splashes, cold water seeping into the fabric of his trousers as it lapped at his knees and soaked his skin.
He could see a flicker of fire in the waves, a brilliant orange, or perhaps a scarlet red, or neither, the shimmer instead the colour of burnt coal. The song swirled around his head, enticing him forward with its unreachability. He heard a dog howling somewhere and ignored it, his senses overcoming with the lure of the song.
He was swimming forward when he felt pain along his leg, sharp and bright against the song before it was immediately dulled. His leg wasn’t working quite right anymore and he began to sink, seeing a pair of orange eyes smiling at him in the darkness as he sank into the bloody waters, the voice in his head so loud it blotted out even the need to breathe.
Water filled his mouth and nose as there was more pain, ripping through him like teeth, but the lack of air, the sheer cold, and the black spots filling his vision had him floating gently towards oblivion.
It was so cold.
The claws digging into his shoulders felt like he should feel them, as those hungry orange eyes glowed, a maw of needle-sharp teeth visible under them.
It was so cold .
His eyes fluttered shut as the last bubbles of air left his lips, drifting away towards the surface as the ocean constricted his chest.
It was so dark. Like he was sleeping.
He could sleep forever.
He could just drown here-
Then there was the feeling of lips on his and alertness flooded through him, the tightness in his lungs fading away as though they were filled with air again, light and breathable. He opened his eyes, blackness still clouding most of his sight. He thought he saw tattered red, pale skin, glitters of silver.
He felt arms wrap around him, strong and powerful, and the water moved around him and his rescuer like they were born to it. He wondered for a moment what was happening, before he slipped back into the nothingness of unconsciousness.
When he woke, it was to Failinis licking gently at his fingers as he lay in his bed, wounds bandaged and covers tucked in around him.
He stared at the open window as the sunlight filtered in, the sounds of waves against the beach gentle in the air. Faint memories of strong arms and a kiss swam at the edge of his mind, slipping away if he tried to think of them too hard, like a dream he was already forgetting.
Had Qrow come back after all?
Clover walked down the gangplank onto the main docks, a bag over his shoulder containing his personal belongings, his lucky pin gleaming on the breast of his naval uniform. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, a smattering of freckles across his skin from a year sailing the Vacuan peninsula.
He smiled at Elm as she helped Marrow carry off some of the supplies, Vine tying up the sails in the riggings as Harriet darted across the deck of the Fable , making sure their ship was in top-notch condition after their mission. “I’m going to go submit our logs to Admiral Schnee. See you all at Murphy’s Reef ?”
Elm waved him off. “We’ll get our favourite booth, see you there!” Marrow gave him a fanged grin as he nodded in agreement, tail wagging and the dog ears on his head swivelling as he tracked the noises around them
He saluted and walked off with a spring in his step, happy to be back in the port kingdom he called home. Atlas was a small island just off the coast of Solitas, connected to the city of Mantle by a natural bridge. Clover had grown up in one of the port towns west of Mantle, the city itself nestled in the massive fjord that led up into the unexplored tundra of Solitas.
It was as he walked towards the main keep where the military was based that he heard the whispers. An execution, people were saying. Tomorrow at dawn. A pirate long since evading the laws, finally caught and sentenced to beheading.
He hoped he could avoid it. He’d never been a fan of executions, rare as they were. Not even King Schnee had been able to overturn all the laws the previous king had placed to prevent needless death.
Truthfully, after a night drinking and celebrating with his team, his plan was to go back to Chulainn’s Cove. He’d have to drop by James’s first, to collect Failinis, the retired Admiral having chosen to seclude himself in a lighthouse with his pets and his books.
It was as he entered the keep he spotted a young lady updating the outlaw bored with wanted posters, pulling down the criminals who had been caught and putting up the sketches of the new.
He noticed the top poster in her hands, just ripped from the wall, and his heart did a strange wiggle in his chest as he recognised the merman who may have saved his life.
Clover shook it off. He never usually paid attention to wanted posters, his job taking him on the seas rather than worrying about local criminals, but if Qrow’s poster was down, that meant he had been caught.
He had a disquieting worry settle in his stomach and promised himself that he would investigate later. His debriefing with Winter came first.
It was only afterwards that he slipped down to the cells, that his worry turned to concern. There was a cell at the end of the prison block, a closed room with only a thin slit in the door for observation, a thick glass pane over the thin window, beyond the prison bars. This was the cell for those who were spending their last night in the jail, the accommodations somewhat nicer than the rest. A warmer blanket, a softer bed, and one final good meal, to make the last night worth something.
Seeing the merman pacing like a caged beast, a flash of dark scales visible on his nape even in human form, had Clover’s heart thud with dread. Watching the man turn to a bird to peck uselessly at the glass beyond the bars only worsened his turmoil. The sight of his shapeshifting didn’t even bother him all that much. He knew the man was capable of being a merman, and it explained the feathers in his hair.
He’d only met him twice so far, maybe thrice if whatever had happened a year ago had been real, but he didn’t know if he could let him die. He didn’t know if he could deprive Ruby of the man she looked at like a hero.
He made his choice, promising himself he’d come back before dawn.
His usual celebration of a completed mission with his team lacked his normal exuberance, though he tried to put it on for them. It was hard to keep it up, though Elm’s arm around his shoulders before she managed to lift him off the ground definitely distracted him from his task later.
He didn’t really break the law. It wasn’t in his nature. He preferred to uphold the law to protect people, but if it turned out unjust, then the law should be changed rather than broken.
Helping a prisoner on his last night escape his cell was not something he’d ever thought he’d see himself do, but he owed Qrow his life, he was almost certain. Not only that, but Qrow was a good man at his core, a man who loved his family and was willing to save a life at no benefit to him.
So when he opened Qrow’s jail cell and saw a very confused set of red eyes staring at him, he reminded himself that this was the right thing to do. “It’s been a while.”
“You bet it has.” Qrow didn’t let an opportunity go to waste, already walking out the cell door past Clover, who closed and locked it again. “Your place was empty.”
“I had a mission.” He tugged him out of the jail and down a side corridor to avoid the guards. “This way.”
“A year long mission?” Qrow looked him over, his billowy white shirt practically falling off his shoulders as it revealed the defined lines of his collarbone. “You have freckles.”
“I get them in the sunlight. We were sent to Vacuo. I’m not liable to disclose why.” He walked with him, putting a hand out to tell him to stop as he checked the next corner. The coast was clear. “Hang on. You checked my house?”
Qrow blinked owlishly at him, a faint point to his ears now that Clover was looking. There was a strange overlap between his three forms, it was interesting and Clover would be lying if he said he didn't want to know where all that overlap was. “Uh. Ruby noticed you weren’t fishing.”
Clover smiled at him, leading him towards the exit that was closest to the ocean. “I’m flattered. How is she?”
Qrow smiled proudly. “She’s doing great. Her and Yang have been learning magic from their dad. Merpeople like them have a lot of natural magic.”
“And you don’t?”
“I’m not a natural mermaid.” Qrow shrugged as he followed him out into the shattered moonlight, his feet bare on the gravel. “I was human once.”
Clover nearly stopped at that, a definite break in his stride before he recovered, looking at the shapeshifter. “... I see. That sounds like quite a story.”
“... Yeah. It is.” Qrow looked at him as they stepped onto the beach, the moon hung low over the waves and painting the shapeshifter’s rugged features in a fey light. Clover had to catch his breath for a moment as the light glimmered on the feathers mingled with Qrow’s hair, the sheen near-iridescent.
Qrow raised a hand, hesitated, and placed a hand on Clover’s shoulder, patting it once. “Thanks.”
“I feel like I should be thanking you.” Clover smiled at him. “One question before you go.”
“Only one?” Qrow smirked, quirking a brow.
“Will I see you again?” He asked, repeating his question from before. He desperately hoped Qrow would say yes. He wanted to see him again. Learn more about him. Talk to him outside of these stolen moments, find out what happened that night, which had left inhuman tooth marks that had taken months to disappear.
Qrow cocked his head in an almost birdlike motion, his gaze sweeping over Clover before he stepped back. “You will.”
Clover watched from the beach as Qrow’s fins vanished into the surf, reaching up a hand to touch his lips as he tried to remember the feeling of a kiss he may have only dreamed.
He didn’t know what he expected when he picked up Failinis and went back to his little cabin, but a shapeshifter sitting on his porch was not it. Qrow gave him a faint smile, a bottle in hand that Clover recognised from his personal cupboard. Qrow poured two glasses of the amber liquid and offered him one.
“Welcome home, Shamrock.” He clinked their glasses together and knocked his back with practiced ease, leaving Clover a little starstruck before he remembered to take a sip, the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat.
He could probably use some liquid courage, after a year at sea. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this soon.”
“Probably not.” Qrow nodded and gave him a sly look. “So. How about that story?”
“Let me get inside first,” Clover smiled. “And take off my gear.”
Qrow looked him over, something that he seemed to do a lot. Clover wondered when the shift had happened, the gazes that had felt detached and assessing now sending shivers down his spine. Qrow’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
Clover’s mouth felt dry and he finished his glass, walking inside and placing it on the table as he took off his weapons, placing them aside as he removed his heavy jacket. He looked at his pin for a moment before he pulled it off his uniform, putting it back on his top. He hoped it was as lucky as it usually seemed to be.
Good fortune would definitely be welcome now.
He stepped back out to a roaring fire and Failinis resting his head on Qrow’s thigh, getting gentle pets from the merman. Clover couldn’t help but smile at the strange but welcome picture it made. It looked almost domestic.
He stopped himself there. He’d met this man maybe four times. He had no right getting any sort of attachment or attraction beyond the physical kind. He steeled himself up and walked into his living room, taking the seat beside Qrow’s and giving Failinis a little pet as well.
“So you’re a dog person?”
“Not literally,” Qrow smirked. “Birds and mermen only. But yeah, I like dogs. They don’t judge.”
“What’s there to judge?” He hedged, wondering if it would be unwelcome.
“Life as a pirate and a thief, for one thing.” Qrow swirled the whiskey in his glass and Clover wondered when he’d refilled it. “I was sixteen, when I met them. Summer and Taiyang. A pair of merpeople that our tribe had picked up.”
“‘Our’?” Clover repeated.
“Raven, my twin sister. We were the youngest, and cursed as omens from birth. We always got the menial jobs no one else wanted. No one wanted us.” Qrow stared into his glass. “Summer and Tai were our age. Don’t know how, but the four of us formed a bond. When the ship went down, Raven and I would have died.”
“Did Tai and Summer save you?” He asked quietly, stroking Failinis’s fur as he rested an arm on the back of the couch, watching the way the firelight danced over Qrow’s sharp features.
“Tai’s a prince among his kind. Powerful magic. He did something,” Qrow held out his hand, a faint scar on his palm. “The four of us shared blood, or something. Some kind of old blood magic. Then… Raven and I could turn into merpeople, and Summer and Tai could be humans.”
“That sounds incredible. So you all stayed together? Like a family?”
“Summer’s dead. Raven’s off doing fuck knows what. She can rot. It’s me and Tai and his daughters now. I do what I can to protect them.” Qrow drained his glass.
“I think you do a lot to protect them.” It was admirable, how much this man cared about them. “I want to ask about something that happened a year ago.”
Qrow went very still, eyes darting to Clover before he looked very deliberately at the fire. “Something happened?”
Clover took a deep breath, desperate to know the truth and praying he wouldn’t drive him away. He didn’t want Qrow to go just yet, though he would eventually. “Tell me what happened.”
“A siren,” Qrow murmured. “She had you under her spell. Would have eaten you alive.”
“You saved me.” This time it wasn’t a question.
Qrow didn’t look at him. “I did.”
“You kissed me?” He wondered if that had happened too.
A faint blush appeared on Qrow’s cheeks. “Haven’t you ever heard the legends? ‘A kiss from a mermaid lets someone breathe underwater ’,” he quoted.
“Oh.” Was it only because of that? Probably. They didn’t really know each other. “Why save me?” Was it because of what he did for Ruby?
“... Because I wanted to,” Qrow admitted quietly. “I didn’t want you dead, I’m not a monster. ” He said the word with venom, like it was a barb he’d had tossed at him before.
Clover wondered if he’d misjudged things. He hesitated before he rested his hand on the side of Qrow’s neck,fingers splaying out and curling gently around the other man’s nape. “You’re definitely not a monster,” Clover reassured him.
Qrow tossed him a soft smile that shifted to a confident smirk. “So you remember that I kissed you?”
Clover swallowed, looking deep into Qrow’s eyes, feeling like he could drown in them. “I may need a reminder,” he tried, grateful that his voice didn’t waver.
Qrow set the glass down before his hands were framing Clover’s face, lips pressing against his own, only this time he wasn’t dying from oxygen loss and bleeding, which made it about a million times better, in Clover’s opinion. Qrow’s lips were soft and there was a lingering taste of rich whiskey, burning and warm as they made the rest of the night their own.
Clover woke up cold. He looked at the empty space next to him, the covers tossed back as he heard Failinis barking.
He couldn’t help himself. He ran towards the door, pulling it open as stars shone overhead, and he just barely spotted tattered red fins as they vanished into the bay.
He shouldn’t ever have expected Qrow would actually stay.
Clover coughed up smoke and blood, letting the smile he’d put on drop as he heard Marrow screaming for the rowboat to turn around, that Clover was still onboard. It was good of him to care so much, but Elm had seen what Marrow had refused to.
So there he sat, fires eating the Fable alive as she sank, half-destroyed by cannon fire and gunpowder. He sat up against the railings, one hand pressed to his side in a futile attempt to stop the blood that poured out, staining the deck under him red.
The faunus who stabbed him had looked so thrilled about it, yellow eyes bright with debauched glee as his dark stinger tail curled proudly behind him. His team was lucky that they’d brought the attacking ship down, but some mad man enemy had blown up their ship so that no one would win.
A captain was meant to go down with his ship, everyone said.
Clover knew he was dying. No one survived losing this much blood.
He looked forward, at the open ocean, waves stretching endlessly into the horizon to meet the sunset. The remnants of sunlight dyed the sky in pinks and purples, tinted dark blue on the edges, like an oil painting.
Clover loved the sea. He would have said that there was no sight more beautiful, in all of his travels.A year ago, he would have loved for his last sight to be of his beloved ocean.
Now all he wanted to do was look into a set of pretty red eyes one more time.
He reached up and gave his pin one last flick, smearing it with blood by accident. At least his team would be okay. They had a chance to get away.
He heard a splash, a sliding thump, like something large had hefted itself onto the deck. That changed to footsteps, and like magic, Qrow was there, stuck between his human form and his merman form as his dark scales clung to his skin.
“Clover?” His hand rested on Clover’s shoulders, the other cupping his jaw. “Hey, you still with me, Shamrock?”
Clover smiled slightly, tiny pink bubbles forming at the corner of his mouth as he coughed. “Still with you.”
Qrow smiled in mingled relief and fear. “Hey, I can help you, but you have to know that there’s only one way. Tai’s gotta do it.”
Clover reached up, grabbing Qrow’s wrist. “Are you going to leave again?” He was alright with dying, but now that Qrow was here, he didn’t want to die alone.
Qrow cursed under his breath. “No. I want to take you with me. Are you okay with that? You can go home after, I promise, but you gotta be alive to do that.”
Clover blinked at him, white noise starting to buzz in his ears. He felt cold. “I trust you.”
“Good enough,” and Qrow’s lips were on his again, this time tasting like blood and salt. Clover felt himself get lifted easily, Qrow’s strong arms carrying him off the deck of the ship, and this time when Qrow vanished under the waves, he took Clover with him.