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Count Andrew Harrington is one of the most influential and powerful people one could ever hope to meet in the land of Hawkins. He doesn’t have any magic or special abilities beyond any other human. Still, he is wealthy and controls a large enough section of land to rule over several towns. 

The Count is not the most well-liked or least corrupt by a long margin, which is common knowledge at this point, but few people ever see the man. He stays cooped up in his personal castle, only leaving when necessary and having his servants do everything for him. Officially, this is to keep safe from assassins; unofficially, it’s to stay clear of commoners and ‘lower’ non-human species.

But while next to no one would recognize Count Andrew Harrington, his only son and heir, Steve Harrington is an entirely different story.

Whether Steve Harrington is famous or infamous depends on who one is asking. The young heir often goes out to any ball or party he can find, hanging out with the local townsfolk and causing all sorts of mayhem. If it weren’t for his status, much of the local law enforcement would have already arrested him for the noise violations alone. When Steve Harrington is around, teens and those looking for trouble rejoice, and the ones to clean the mess groan.

But the heir is generally considered harmless or even an opportunity to some. Steve Harrington is not known for his wits, and many assume that when he takes the Count title, he’ll just coast on his idle income, not much caring for the position’s responsibilities. As such, many other noble houses are vying for the heir to marry into their family, essentially to take over the role.

Steve is well aware of what his dad is doing, making him attend all these formal galas, full of single nobility right around his age, and he knows why he’s doing it too. The Count hopes that Steve picks someone that can either be manipulated by the old man or give grandchildren that he can groom to be the perfect heir.

Honestly, Steve isn’t angry. His dad gave up on him being a good heir years ago and very rarely makes him do much, if any, work. And many of the people at these events are fine, and he has nothing against them, but it just feels wrong to pick out a spouse from a crowd of strangers. He’s even made a good friend out of it, Duchess Nancy Wheeler, a half-elf heir to her own thrown, but she isn’t the one for him.

Steve knows that if this goes on long enough, his dad will eventually give up on this latest endeavor to save his legacy. But in the meantime, he can’t go out traveling like he likes to do, needing to stay close to attend the formal events, rarely leaving his private estate.

Steve’s personal land, which is a chunk of his dad’s land he has near total control of, is quite nice. It’s half a mile from a nearby lake, surrounded by beautiful forests. The house is custom-made, large but not overly huge, and cozy. A large pond was added to the backyard, always kept warm by enchanted stones along the bottom. But despite that, Steve is antsy to leave, bored out of his mind.

In Steve’s desperation to escape this boredom, he mingles with the few guards on his land, all of which he’d rather not have but are thereby command of his father. He doesn’t get along with all of them, but Tommy Hagan, the youngest of them, is always willing to give Steve the time of day.

Tommy is not a very good guard, and Steve is half convinced that he’s only here as a favor to the Hagan family, but he’s somewhat fun to hang out with. He brings Steve booze, and he even tries to bring in a local lady, who Steve turns away.

Steve and Tommy split a weak hallucination potion the guard got from a morally unbothered potion-maker apprentice one day, sitting and talking while the potion gives them a nice floating feeling. The world feels someone distant when Tommy speaks suddenly.

“Y’know, I think I know what you could do to get your dad off your back.”

“Something other than marrying some stranger?” Steve says wryly.

“You could become a hero,” Tommy suggests, and Steve pauses.

“What?”

“C’mon, Stevie, think about it,” the guard presses, “If you were a great hero, then he would be happy right? You wouldn’t have to marry some broad.”

“How would I do that?” Tommy smiles, and Steve ignores the slight anxiety that causes.

“Kill a monster.”

“How exactly?” Steve snarks, “I’m no mage or swordsman, if you haven’t noticed.” Tommy lets out his ugly laugh.

“You are rich, though. Get a potion of luck or strength.”

“What would I even kill?” Steve presses, half considering it. It’s not a bad idea, really. If his dad had something to show off, he’d bank on that rather than bother with all these other nobles trying to marry his son. But it would be far from easy.

“Hmmm… what about a mermaid?” Tommy asks, “Not as dangerous as a dragon or hard to find as a yeti.”

“A mermaid?” Steve repeats.

Mermaids are a rare, mysterious species. Little is known about them, and there’s debate about specifics about them. But they are generally considered a barbaric, primal species that is smart but lacks sentience. They are to be avoided if you don’t expect them, seeing as how they’re likely to drown you if you piss them off. But, like Tommy says, they’re not nearly as dangerous as some monsters, and they would be easier to find, especially with a luck potion. It might be the potion talking, but this sounds more and more appealing.

“Okay,” Steve says slowly. Mermaid scales sell for a lot, and most would be thankful a dangerous creature is dead. “Would you get everything I need?”

“Sure,” Tommy says quickly, smiling wide as Steve fishes out and tosses a bag of gold coins at him. Steve is already aware that he’s not seeing any change back after Tommy buys everything, but he doesn’t much care.

~~~

Steve is severely regretting his decision as he drifts out onto the water of the nearby lake, the moon illuminating the water around him. He is ready to slap himself for agreeing, grasping the spear in his hand with an iron grip. He already drank the luck potion and prays it doesn’t work.

Tommy waits on the shore, giving him a thumbs up. He doesn’t hear Tommy’s restrained laughter, knowing the wealthy prince will be stuck on the lake all night. His apprentice friend was more than happy to give him a bottle filled with yellow-dyed oil, a useless liquid, for a cut of the profit, the rest going to Tommy’s pocket from not buying such an expensive potion.

Steve’s fear ebbs slightly as he waits; nothing happening. He’s about to call it quits; just write it off as a stupid idea when a shadow passes under him. He gasps, going deathly still. It could have been a trick of the light, but it goes by again. Perspective is odd in the water, but the shadow seems big enough to be what he’s looking for.

Silently, Steve coaches himself to continue. Come on! This is your moment! It’ll be easy. Just wait…

Steve jabs the spear down into the shallow water right into the shadow. He feels resistance, and then a screech loud enough to be heard well above the water rings out.

Steve tumbles backward into the boat, grasping the spear and the rope tied around the end of it. He spares a glance back at Tommy, only to find the barest glimpse of the guard running away, leaving his charge alone. But Steve can’t think about that now, not as he’s fighting not to be pulled into the water himself.

The spear and several feet of rope disappear into the water, but Steve grabs on, holding until his fingers turn white, stopping the creature in its tracks. The struggle against him notably weakens, and he can tie the rope to the small boat, focusing on dragging himself back to shore.

Steve is laughing and smiling as he jumps out of the boat, bare feet landing on the sand. The adrenaline over his victory drives him as he slowly pulls the beast closer, the mass slowly moving up the sandy shore, barely fighting, red staining the water around it. The heir already imagines the awed looks of those around him as he flaunts such a horrid monster, his father’s rare but earned approval.

However, Steve’s smile fades as he approaches the weak creature. The stories about them, ravenous and poor imitations of a humanoid, doesn’t fit the being before him. The mermaid isn’t grotesque or hard to look at. In drawings, the top half of a mermaid is often bloated and corpse-like, but the one before him is anything but.

Laying on the shore of the lake is one of the prettiest creatures Steve’s ever seen. Its top half is that of a sculpted, lean young man, likely around Steve’s age. The only difference is the smattering of scales and the fins along its arms and spine and webbed fingers on its hands. A long, elegant tail twitches in the water, purple and shining like amethyst. The spear is embedded in the thing’s tail, just below the separation between the human and fish half, a rope twisted around it.

The injured creature gurgles, mouth moving as words of an indecipherable language spill from its lips. It weakly claws at the wet sand, trying to get away and get back towards the water, but it can barely move. Steve may not be able to understand it, but desperation and fear are universal.

All at once, Steve realizes that he just made a horrible mistake. He hurt an innocent being, one only guilty of being so poorly misunderstood. However, Steve can’t just throw it back in the water. It’s practically unconscious and bleeding bad. It would just die. So he has to do something.

Steve starts to work, acting primarily on instinct. He grabs the small pocket knife he carries, cutting off the rope from the spear and tossing it away. He knows better than to take out the spear, not wanting it to bleed out right in front of him. But he needs to move it. So he goes to the boat, rocking it and tipping it enough to allow some river water to flow in. Steve uses his shirt to wrap the wound before hauling the mermaid up and into the boat, the water barely reaching its gills above its hips. The creature is heavy but not enough that he couldn’t carry it quite a distance.

With that figured, Steve then goes about dragging the small, much heavier boat for half a mile. He moves as fast as his legs can carry him, and he’s wheezing when he finally makes it back, nearly collapsing on his lawn. With aching muscles, Steve picks up the creature again, placing it in a shallow part of the pond about a foot deep. It’s entirely still, and for a long moment, Steve is sure that he is too late, that it’s dead. But its tail flicks, gills fluttering in the warm water, still holding on, allowing Steve to breathe easier.

The actual healing part is pretty straightforward. Steve gathers some waterproof bandages and the most potent health potion he can find, moving fast as he takes out the spear, tossing it to the side. Thankfully, the creature only twitches and writhes slightly, still mostly unconscious as Steve wraps the wound, cringing at the ripped fins and flaking scales.

With the chaos ending, Steve gently pushes the being into a slightly deeper part of the pond, submerging it completely. There’s not much Steve can do now, moving into the house, staying in the living room, which has a clear view of the pond. He closes his eyes, wondering how the hell he managed to do this to himself.

~~~

Steve is jolted awake the following day, not remembering falling asleep. It takes a moment to figure out why, but the harsh splashing and indiscernible shouts are a good hint.

Steve rushes outside and skids to a stop in front of the water. The noise stops, and Steve stares into wide, black eyes. In the sun, the non-human parts of the creature are all the more obvious. Its skin is almost grey, and its hair isn’t really hair, but long, thin spines that merely look like light brown hair. The moment is quickly broken as the creature snarls at him, swiping at him with a webbed, clawed hand.

“Ki! Mo heelas ki!” Steve blinks. He doesn’t understand at all, but that was definitely speech. And that means he just attacked a sentient creature. He didn’t realize he could’ve felt any worse about this.

“I’m sorry! I don’t understand!” Steve shouts. A low growl emanates from the mermaid as it blinks up at him with its onyx eyes.

“Why… why here?” the mermaid growls, the words somewhat garbled and heavily accented, but the fact that it can speak Steve’s language at all is nothing short of world-shattering.

“Why here?” Steve repeats. “Why are you here? I-I brought you here.” However, that only seems to agitate it further.

“Killer! Mindless killer!” It swipes at Steve again, and the point is made rather clear.

“I know I hurt you, but I swear on my life that I have never hurt any other sentient!” Steve pleads. “I regret hurting you. I’m sorry.” The mermaid is not calmed, but it does seem curious, backing away slightly.

“Explain,” the mermaid commands.

“Listen, I only tried it so I could impress people and get my dad to be proud.” Before the creature can say anything to that, he continues, “I had been told that mermaids, your people, are just beasts that kill anything. Pests to be eradicated. But when I saw what I did, I realized how wrong I was, and I couldn’t just leave you.” There’s a long pause. The mermaid’s pupilless gaze burns into Steve, and the human barely resists fidgeting.

“You fixed me.”

“Healed you, yeah. But I’m no doctor.” The mermaid is silent for a long time, just observing him. Steve waits, unsure if he should speak.

“I think… you are honest,” it says slowly, “Stupid but honorable.” Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Thanks,” Steve mutters. “Do you think you would be okay to swim home if I brought you back to the river?” The fish pauses, twisting to feel at its tail, wincing as it does.

“No,” it says reluctantly. “Can’t swim far. Body is… weak.”

“Alright,” Steve says, “Well, I’m always happy to have guests. What do you eat?”

“Fish.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was expecting…”

~~~

Steve is questioning everything about his life right now. He went to the market, buying enough raw fish to feed a small village, steadily ignoring the odd looks thrown his way. The mermaid inspected his buy, unabashedly picking out the ones it liked, throwing the cod and carp away. Steve makes a note of that, sitting on the nearby grass, watching the creature eat.

It has no problem that the fish is raw, digging right in with its sharp teeth, easily cleaving through bone and skin. It gives Steve an idea, and he takes the discarded fish and brings them into his freezer to make for himself later.

But once his task is done, Steve can’t help but stand at his window, observing the creature. He’s again struck by how nearly human it is, having a chiseled, sharp face shape with a jawline strong enough to cut glass. From what Steve can tell, it doesn’t have eyelashes or eyebrows, but purple scales sit on its cheekbones and eyelids like bright makeup. Apparently, Steve is not so subtle in his looking, as the mermaid fixes him with a bored look through the glass, making a ‘come hither’ motion with a webbed hand.

“You are… staring,” the mermaid observes when Steve emerges.

“Hey, cut me some slack. I’ve never seen anything like you,” Steve says with a shrug, “I don’t even know anyone who has seen a mermaid before.”

“So your first instinct… is to kill one?” It says, and Steve can see the barest hint of a smirk.

“We’ve been over this. It wasn’t even my idea!”

“Do all humans so mindlessly follow such ideas, then?” the mermaid is outright smiling at him, seeming to take such pleasure in the teasing.

“Honestly, I’ve been told I’m not the brightest of the bunch,” Steve admits, and the mermaid pauses.

“That makes sense.”

“Don’t make me regret saving you,” Steve says dryly. The mermaid just shrugs, grabbing another fish.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Steve blurts. The creature freezes.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Uh… so I have something to call you?” Steve says slowly. “I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

“Humans… give their name so freely?”

“Yes? You don’t?”

“A name has much power, much meaning. It is an honor to wield, either a given name for family or a title earned through greatness,” the mermaid explains. “We do not often give our name to those we do not know, as they may be unhonorable.”

“Wait, you can earn a new name for something you did?” Steve asks.

“Yes. Many choose to alter their given name to do so. A great warrior or scholar would likely earn a new name. Just as a horrid criminal would lose theirs.”

“Huh,” Steve mutters, thinking that over, “Here, you can change your legal name if you want, but it doesn’t work like that. Most don’t change their name unless they’re getting married. I mean, you can earn titles like ‘general’ or ‘doctor,’ but they don’t change your name at all.”

“So your name has no meaning? Just an identifier?” The mermaid questions.

“Well, Steve is, but Harrington is a family name. Everyone in the same family has the same last name. My dad is Count Andrew Harrington.”

“Is Count a title?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It means he is basically in charge of those living under him. I’ll be the new Count once he dies.” Steve shrugs, and the mermaid just squints at him.

“Humans still decide power by… inheritance?!” The mermaid realizes, growling lowly. “We decide our leaders as a people. Power is earned, and you have not earned it, Steve Harrington! You hold no qualities that would serve to lead a people.”

“How would you know?! You barely even know how any of this works!” Steve argues, puffing up his chest. He is shaken by the sudden hostility, but he won’t back down.

“I know enough! Leaders think before they act and do not attack others for being different!”

Steve abruptly stands, spins around, and walks into the house before he can say or do something he regrets. He feels the onyx gaze of the still-nameless mermaid on him as he slams the door behind him.

“What do they know?” Steve mumbles to himself, totally not sulking. “I’ll be a good Count. A great one, even!”

But what does that mean exactly? The fact that Steve isn’t quite sure doesn’t do much to help his shaky certainty. He supposes that he would mainly be in charge of policy as Count, but he isn’t sure precisely what laws even rule his people. He’s never had to worry about them as heir, and he honestly isn’t sure if his dad’s rules are different than those around him. Compared to others, are they cruel? Kind? Are the people upset but too scared to say something?

These questions filter into Steve’s mind, even as he tries to push them away. He tells himself that he doesn’t need to worry about it. His dad will live a while longer, and then he can learn when he gets there. But how would he even know what to change, if anything? He doesn’t want to be locked in a castle, but he probably won’t be able to get out much anyway.

If Steve wasn’t the heir, would he even want the position? Would people be happier? Those questions hit Steve harder than they should, and he has to sit down. But he doesn’t know the answer, doesn’t know the answer to any of his worries, and, for once, that scares him.

Steve had never associated the title of Count with a leader, but is that not exactly what it is? And being a leader is a lot scarier than being a Count. The weight of his birthright is heavy on Steve’s shoulders in a way it’s never been before, the seriousness of it hitting like an avalanche. And all because of that damn mermaid.

Steve realizes that there are things he needs to do. He needs to really look at and see what being a Count requires of him, to find out what the people think of the position and his father, and he needs to learn the ropes. He has no idea how to go about any of this, but he needs to do it. Maybe he should contact Nancy, she seems to know what her position requires of her, and it’s very similar to his. He refuses to consider the second opinion he could get from his pond.

~~~

A week passes slowly. Steve is in regular contact with Nancy, using a pair of speaking shells, magically enhanced sea shells that can be used to talk to another person extremely far away via a magic connection. She gives him advice, but there are few specifics she can offer him about his situation, not knowing many details, leaving Steve on his own.

Steve contacts a few of the servants at his father’s castle, the ones he personally knows and are unlikely to blab to his father if asked, to basically get him a copy of all current policy and a schedule of his father’s duties. They quickly get it to him, but the giant stack of folders and scrolls is more than a little intimidating. And the quickly apparent fact that Steve does not speak legalese doesn’t help.

It takes a day for Steve to crack.

Steve had been having short, most formal contact with his mermaid guest, providing it anything it needed. It’s been mainly polite back, occasionally asking a pointed question or making a digging remark. He has to admit that the mermaid is smart, and its basic is improving as it speaks with Steve, communicating only with a slight accent.

Steve walks out to the pond, arms overflowing with scrolls, and he bluntly asks.

“Can you read basic?”

“Yes. I was able to read and write it before speaking it,” the mermaid says, and Steve sighs, plopping down next to the shore.

“Good. I’ve been trying to read these stupid policies, and I can barely understand them. I need your help.” The mermaid stares as Steve sets down about half of his pile in front of them. “And this is paper. ” Steve had given the mermaid some paper and pencils to occupy themself with a few days ago for entertainment. The mermaid released that neither of those is good in the water, and Steve learned that mermaids write by carving into stone, which doesn’t work so well on paper.

“I can see that, Harrington,” they grumble. “What exactly do you want me to do, and why should I do it?”

“Read them and give me a summary and see if they have any issues. And you are in my pond.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Hey, it’s either this or you sitting, doing nothing.”

“Fine,” the mermaid sighs, unrolling the first scroll.

With the mermaid’s help, progress is much faster. The fish finishes long before Steve, taking some from his pile and making notes in shaky but readable handwriting.

“So… what’s the verdict?” Steve asks when they’re finally done. The mermaid winces.

“Not great,” they say bluntly. “These things are full of loopholes and barely make any sense. I don’t blame you for struggling. My father is an enforcer, a, uh… sheriff, I think is what you call it, and I have read many laws. These are written poorly, and they rarely do what they’re supposed to.”

“Shit,” Steve mutters.

“Honestly, it would probably be better to simply replace these with ones that are simple and concise.”

“That’d make my life easier, for sure.”

“Could you hire a lawyer to write them?” the mermaid asks.

“Yeah, but anything would need to be passed by my dad before it was official,” Steve grumbles and the mermaid frowns.

“Seeing as most of the help funnel money directly to him or the very upper class, I don’t see that happening.”

“I… I didn’t realize it was this bad,” Steve says softly, “I knew he wasn’t the most moral guy, but this is a whole new level.” The mermaid pauses, gazing at Steve’s solemn face before speaking.

“ Jon’a’van. ”

“Huh?”

“My name is Jon’a’van. ” The mermaid, Jon’a’van, grins slightly, and Steve is silent for a long moment.

“Thank you,” Steve says, meaning it, “What does it mean?”

“Jon’a is my given name. Jonna, in my language, means a gift from the heavens, and my mom used it because I was from her first clutch, and no one thought she’d be able to successfully have spawned. None of the eggs came out right, and I was the only one to hatch. So she considered me her gift.”

“Wow,” Steve mutters, “And the last part?”

“Ik’van is the name given to those with a gift in perception. I come from a magically touched family, and my gift is the ability to see the intentions and emotions of a being, how they truly are, to an extent. I earned the name by helping my father in several investigations, helping find out the truth.”

“You’re magic?” Steve whispers in awe, “I always wanted to be a mage as a kid, but I have as much magic as a rock.”

“Yes, and I can tell that you are… different,” Jon’a’van says, staring at Steve, seeming to look into his very soul, “Before, you just wanted to fix your mistake and move on, but now… you are wanting more. You want to do good.”

“I do,” Steve admits, “You got me thinking, and I realized that I basically knew nothing about the position I was meant to fill. If I’m going to do it, I want to do it right.” Jon’a’van smiles at him.

“Good.”

“Jon’a’van,” Steve mumbles, mostly to himself. “Jon’a’van . You know, your name sounds a lot like a human one I’ve heard.”

“What is it?”

“Jonathan.”

“Hmm. Not bad,” Jon’a’van says.

~~~

Steve and Jon’a’van have a system put in place, steadily working through the documents collected, chatting much more casually than before. The mermaid still ribs on him occasionally, but it’s good-natured.

As the pair become comfortable around each other, Steve’s simple curiosity over Jon’a’van reemerges, and he often finds himself staring at the long tail, moving gracefully through the clear water, the rich amethyst scales glinting in the sunlight. He isn’t going to lie and say Jon’a’van isn’t a beautiful and graceful creature, and he just wants to touch and get closer.

But Steve isn’t sure just how much of his desire is simply from curiosity about a different species. As strange as it is considering how they met, Steve enjoys his time with the mermaid more than any other time in the day, and he finds himself dreading the day when they eventually leave.

“Steve.”

“Hmm?”

“Have you heard any of what I said?”

“Uh…” Steve blinks, focusing on the paper in his hand, which he hasn’t really been reading. “Sorry.” Jon’a’van hums wordlessly.

The mermaid sets down their paper, dipping into the water and gliding to the most shallow part of the pond, sitting up on it. They motion for Steve to come closer, flicking their tail in the shallow water.

“I know you’re curious,” Jon’a’van snarks, motioning to their tail. “I’ll let you look and touch if you let me examine you.” Steve blinks at them.

“Me? I’m just a human.”

“And mermaids see humans about as often as you see us,” Jon’a’van points out.

“That makes sense, I guess,” Steve says with a shrug, “Alright, deal.” 

Steve crouches close, not caring as he gets his shorts wet. He moves slowly, trying to contain his excitement. He lays his hand where he would imagine the other’s knees would be if they were human, the scales slightly cool under his touch and smooth as glass. The scales are hard, barely giving under slight pressure, and he imagines that most of the tail is muscle, making it more firm and heavy.

Steve moves lower, running his fingers along some fins, finding out they move much more than he would have suspected. He plays with one, folding it in and extending it. Jon’a’van’s tail twitches, but with a glance up, he sees the mermaid holding back a grin, and Steve breathes out his tension. The human reaches the large fins at the end of his tail, which are also flexible and smooth. 

Steve moves back up, going towards where the human and fish halves are separate, purple scales giving to pale, almost grey skin. But the human focuses on the gills flexing lightly under the water above the other’s hips if they even have a pelvis, which Steve thinks they probably don’t. Steve also notices something on their tail, right below the split on the front. It’s a slit, and it takes Steve all of 5 seconds to realize what it likely is.

Steve had wondered if Jon’a’van was anatomically male, at least based on their top half. But he had wondered why there were no signs of Jon’a’van’s anatomy even though they lacked any clothes, but he never asked. Now he’s glad he didn’t as he tears his gaze upward, focusing on the human-like half.

Jon’a’van’s skin is cold, cold enough that it should be uncomfortable for the mermaid, but it isn’t. And it’s almost gritty like very fine sandpaper, the grey standing out against Steve’s peach hand. The mermaid’s flesh is hard and stiff, despite having a physique like many fit but not ripped young men, primarily lean and muscled with soft curves and pockets of fat. Jon’a’van’s flesh is tough and muscled, even in areas that look like they should be soft.

Jon’a’van’s hands are smooth and large, bigger than Steve’s, even without the webbing. And their claws are thick and dense, not easily broken. And finally, Steve reaches Jon’a’van’s ‘hair,’ which he’s wanted to touch for so long. The light brown strands are made up of probably hundreds of barbs that remind Steve of porcupine quills but without the danger of being stabbed by them. As he brushes along one of the barbs, he ghosts past Jon’a’van’s pointed ear, causing him to shiver.

“My turn?” Jon’a’van says softly, and Steve swallows thickly, wondering when it got so warm in here.

“Yeah, one sec.” Steve stands, quickly stripping off his shirt and pants, leaving him in nothing but loose boxers. Jon’a’van watches with wide eyes as Steve sits on the pond’s edge, slipping into the warm water.

“I was wondering… why do you wear so many clothes?” Jon’a’van asks as he approaches, “We only wear some for decoration or as armor.”

“We use it for a bit of both,” Steve says, “Mainly to protect against the weather, and… it’s not socially acceptable to be without clothes in public. It’s more lax with those you know, and people only get naked around those they trust.”

“Do you not trust me?” Jon’a’van asks softly, frowning slightly. And that just stabs at Steve’s heart.

“I-I do,” Steve confirms, and after a minute, he takes off his boxers, tossing the wet piece of cloth onto dry land. He’ll explain more about human nudity standards later, but it’s enough to see Jon’a’van’s slightly satisfied smile. It warms his chest in a way he doesn’t think too hard about it.

Jon’a’van dips under the water, and Steve tries not to squirm, but he still flinches when a webbed hand wraps around his foot. He has to hold back a laugh as his toes are pinched and moved, claws running down the soles of his feet and heels. He’s also amused at how the mermaid focuses and touches the knobs on his ankles, something he basically never thinks of.

Steve worries that he’ll have to warn the mermaid from being too adventurous as he moves up, but Jon’a’van seems to understand what they’re looking at. The mermaid only touches around Steve’s groin, clawed fingers brushing against Steve’s ass, the human desperately trying not to get hard.

The mermaid moves along the same pattern as Steve, going up his body. Jon’a’van is particularly captivated by his chest hair, rubbing his hand against it, which would be weird for a species that doesn’t have hair.

Steve flinches as Jon’a’van breaks the water’s surface, face mere inches from his own. He can nearly see his reflection in their black eyes, and he doesn’t think as he gently grabs and holds the mermaid’s shoulders. Jon’a’van copies him, moving even closer, tail gently bumping Steve’s legs.

The air is thick around them, the world disappearing beyond them, and the warm water surrounding them. They drift closer still as if the pond itself was pressing them together, chests rubbing against each other, Jon’a’van’s rough skin against Steve’s chest hair. Steve’s breathing is shaky, puffing against Jon’a’van’s thin lips, no air coming from the mermaid.

“Hey,” Steve whispers.

“Hey,” Jon’a’van whispers back.

“Can you see what I’m feeling?” Steve smirks. He focuses on that magnetic pull, that part of his body urging him to get closer, imagining projecting that lust, that fondness out into the air around him. It must work, as Jon’a’van jerks against him, gripping him almost tight enough to hurt.

“Yes,” Jon’a’van breathes. “I feel it too.”

Steve lets go of Jon’a’van’s shoulders, hands drifting up to hold the other’s face, running his thumb over the smooth scales on his cheekbones. He moves slowly, bringing their faces closer, till he presses his lips against Jon’a’van’s sandy ones. Steve half expects the other to not fully understand, but Jon’a’van melts right into the kiss, pushing back and moving against Steve naturally.

“We kiss too,” Jon’a’van remarks when they split, mainly for Steve’s benefit, as the mermaid doesn’t have to worry about needing to breathe.

“Figured that out,” Steve mumbles, pulling them back in.

Neither is sure how long they kiss, hands roaming and touching the entire time. Steve’s lips become raw against Jon’a’van’s, but neither care enough to stop. They continue till the sun lowers and the sky turns orange and red.

“Sunsets are so pretty on land,” Jon’a’van mumbles, pulling away and staring at the sky. Steve grins, heart fluttering, resigning himself to the fact that he’s totally gone for this creature.

~~~

Today is one of the saddest days in Steve’s memory. It’s finally time for Jon’a’van to return; their tail healed enough to brave the journey. Even though Jon’a’van is happy to be returning to their family, they can’t bring themselves to be excited about it, leaving part of their heart behind while Steve watches his heart disappear beneath the lake.

There isn’t much talking as Steve fetches his small boat, the same one he hauled the mermaid for the first time. He uses a bucket to fill it with water, not even hiding how slow he’s moving. The human gently unwraps the bandage from Jon’a’van’s tail; a large star-shaped scar is all that’s left of the wound, and the appendage is fully functional.

Jon’a’van grips Steve tightly as the mermaid is moved to the boat, holding on for longer than is necessary. And neither speaks as Steve drags the boat the short distance under the cover of night.

“Wait,” Steve blurts, breaking the silence of the night as he reaches to grab the mermaid. He crumples before them, kneeling on the wet sand. He gently grasps Jon’a’van’s arms, his hand shaking as the mermaid moves closer to him.

“Steve,” Jon’a’van whispers, smiling sadly. “I have to go.”

“I know,” the human presses, “I know that, but…” Steve doesn’t finish his thought. He doesn’t need to. Jon’a’van leans forward, pressing their rough lips against Steve’s forehead.

“Can we keep in touch?” Steve desperately asks, “T-There’s gotta be a way, right?” But Steve knows the answer to that already. Anything he knows of or would have been available wouldn’t work under the water. 

“Steve…” Jon’a’van says again, smile slipping away.

“Can you at least come visit?” Steve continues, gripping the mermaid even tighter. “You can come back here, to this lake, and I’ll be here for you.”

“Maybe,” the mermaid concedes, “But I won’t be able to stay.”

“I know,” Steve whispers, “I wish you could, or I wish I could follow you.”

“You don’t mean that,” Jon’a’van whispers, eyes wide.

“I do, Jon’a’van, I do,” Steve presses, staring at the other with an intensity they’ve never seen before. “If I could, I would walk into that river with you.”

“But… but your position, and your wealth…”

“None of that made me happy like I am with you,” Steve says, grabbing one of Jon’a’van’s webbed hands. “No one has made me feel like I do with you. I think… I think I love you.”

“I…” Jon’a’van whispers, voice becoming stuck. If they could cry, they would; as it is, their heart simply pounds in their chest. “I love you too, Steve.” They lean in for a kiss, but a part of their mind is elsewhere, remembering something from their lessons.

“Will you come back?” Steve asks, and the mermaid doesn’t have to think about it.

“Yes. Give me two weeks. I’ll be back at sundown.”

“Two weeks. I can do that.” Steve nods, and Jon’a’van hesitates.

“When I get home… I’ll look around, see what I can find to keep in touch.”

“Thank you.”

Steve’s arms shake as he lifts Jon’a’van out of the boat and into the shallow tide, but it’s not from exertion. One last kiss is shared under the moonlight, and the next thing he knows, he’s all alone.

~~~

Steve came back. He had no choice, really. Even the slightest hope that he would be able to stay with them is enough to make him do nearly anything. Those days leading up to it were hell, and right before sundown every day, Steve would be at the lake, waiting well into the night. Even when he knew that the mermaid wasn’t coming that day, he couldn’t help the slither of disappointment in his chest.

Then the day arrives. Steve couldn’t sleep at all the night before, clearing his schedule of absolutely everything and telling his guards to not let anyone disturb him for any reason. And he’s at the lake well before sundown, just in case.

His heart is beating out of his chest when, right as the sky turns orange as embers in a dying fire, the water in front of him moves. He jumps to his feet, peering out onto the horizon when it happens again. His heart sings as a familiar shadow moves closer to the shore, water displacing.

Jon’a’van pulls themself to shore, smiling so brightly at Steve. The human doesn’t think as he barrels forward, skidding in the sand as he pulls the other into a kiss. The mermaid is surprised but soon melts into it. However, when Steve pulls away, he realizes Jon’a’van is not alone.

“What?” Steve croaks, eyeing four other mermaids fully watching, hovering just a few feet away. Jon’a’van grins, backing out of Steve’s grip slightly, putting a little distance between them.

“Steve, this is my family,” Jon’a’van says softly, motioning around them. One of them moves closer, with an upper body that is mainly one that of an older female and bright red scales. He doesn’t back away, simply waiting for them to speak. But Jon’a’van speaks first.

“This is my mother, Jo’yc. She doesn’t speak basic, but she understands it. She wanted to see who her hatchling has become so obsessed with, as she puts it.”

“Hello, ma’am,” Steve greets politely, “I’m so sorry about what I did, but I love your hatchling more than anything.” She says something in her native tongue, which Jon’a’van translates.

“She understands. And lesser beings would not have saved me. She trusts my judgment and my choice.”

“Your choice?” Steve echoes.

“I told you I come from a family of magic-touched. My siblings have a knack for enchantments and spells attached to objects, and I had heard of a spell I wanted to try,” Jon’a’van explains.

Two of the other mermaids move closer, both younger and smaller than Jon’a’van, a boy, and a girl, both with green scales of different shades. Lime green for the boy and forest green for the girl.

“I am El’av’en,” the girl greets.

“Wi’ll’um,” the boy then says in turn. He reaches out a hand, holding what Steve realizes is a pendant. It is a bright green gem in the shape of a fish scale hanging on a thick metal chain with a clip on the back to put it on. He takes it, admiring the beautiful gemstone.

“If I wear this, I can be human,” Jon’a’van says softly, and Steve gasps.

“Are you serious? Jon’a’van, I can’t ask this of you.”

“You can. It’s okay,” Jon’a’van soothes. “It’s not permanent at all. It only works while wearing it, and I can’t wear it for more than a few days before it starts to fail, needing a chance to recharge.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out, “Yeah, that’s better.” The mermaid chuckles.

“And now that my family knows where I am, we can ensure I stay in contact.” 

Finally, the last unnamed mermaid moves closer, the only one larger than Jon’a’van, and the older male is downright huge. Steve is pretty sure he could rip him in half without much trouble. He hands him a mirror with a back of coral and a woven border of seaweed. The human touches it, and it lights up with magic, making a slight ping noise.

“Able to talk and see,” the older mermaid grunts in heavily accented basic. “Ji’Hop’er.” He motions to himself. Steve nods at him, holding the mirror.

“Are… are you sure about this?” Steve asks his lover, who nods quickly.

“Yes,” they say, “You can’t leave your position here, but I can. I can live with you as a human. And I want to be with you.”

“Thank you,” Steve sighs, hugging the mermaid tight, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Will you?”

“Sure,” Steve whispers, glancing at the pendant in his hand. “Will this hurt?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably?”

“We couldn’t exactly test it without any air,” Jon’a’van says dryly.

Steve unclasps the pendent, moving away slightly. His hands shake as he rests the gem on Jon’a’ven’s sternum, and as soon as he clips it on fully, a flash of magic blinds him.

The first thing Steve is aware of is the coughing, thick, wet hacking that makes his lungs burn in sympathy. He reaches towards it blindly, blinking rapidly so his eyes adjust faster. He reaches the hacking body, grasping warm, soft skin, pulling them close, and patting their back. His eyes finally adjust, and he glances down.

Jon’a’van is in his lap, and Steve gasps as he looks him over.

It worked.

A human is in Steve’s hold, a young man he’s recognized anywhere. They are completely naked, revealing their new form, one Steve would never think possible. Grey, rough skin is now ashen, soft, peach skin. There are no signs of scales or fins; the gills once above his hip are gone as if they’ve never been there. For the first time, Steve can feel his lover breathing , chest rising and falling as they slowly catch their breath.

“Hey, hey, just breathe. In and out,” Steve mutters, Jon’a’van’s coughing slowly trailing off. The other boy gasps, swallowing thickly as he finally stops.

“That’s… that’s weird,” Jon’a’van whispers, voice rough after that.

“What is?”

“Air.”

Steve can’t help but laugh, and Jon’a’van weakly joins in. He glances down, finding the other already staring up at him, his eyes a vibrant hazel, soft, thin hair nearly falling in front of them. A smile reveals dull human teeth behind cracked lips, and Steve can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses them. 

“How do you feel?” Steve asks, and the rest of Jon’a’van’s family is eager to hear the answer too.

“Weird,” Jon’a’van says, glancing at their lower body. “But it doesn’t hurt.”

Jon’a’van smiles as they go to move their legs, bending their knees and ankles and wiggling their toes. Steve helps them bend their legs enough to grab their calf, just feeling as if they aren’t sure it’s real. They twist and turn the new limbs, testing their range of motion, which is much different than a tail. Steve can’t help but glance at Jon’a’van’s new third leg, which leaves his imagination buzzing. 

Steve sets Jon’a’van down, letting them sit in the shallow water to let them say goodbye to their family. They sway momentarily, having to use their arms to keep balance. The goodbyes are quick and in their native language, and Steve waits patiently.

Then it’s just the two of them.

“Can we go home?” Jon’a’van asks sweetly, and Steve smiles.

“Sure, thing, Jon’a’van.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Jon’a’van blurts, “I… should probably have a different name while here. We don’t need anyone knowing about me.”

“That’s true. What were you thinking?”

“What was it that you said my name sounded like? I liked that one.”

“Jonathan. Do you have a last name you want to use?” Steve asks, and the other boy thinks.

“How about Byers? That’s the name of the reef I’m from.”

“Jonathan Byers. Sounds great,” Steve agrees, leaning in for another kiss. This time, Jon’a-Jonathan’s lips are cool, and goosebumps are starting to emerge on their skin, which the fresh human runs their hands over with wide eyes.

“Come on, Jonathan. Let’s go before you freeze,” Steve suggests.

“I didn’t realize humans are so sensitive to temperature,” Jonathan whispers, starting to shiver. They hold out a hand for Steve. 

Steve grabs their hand, hauling them up first to their knees and then to their feet. Jonathan leans almost all their weight on Steve as they sway and shake like a newborn deer, figuring out how to place their feet and not have their legs immediately buckle. They take a couple of very slow and shaky steps, getting a feel for it before Steve picks them up princess-style.

“We can walk later,” Steve teases, “But let’s do that in a warm house, okay?”

“Alright, fine,” Jonathan sighs, snuggling against their love, holding the mirror their father had given them. Steve chuckles, carrying his love home.