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There was a cluster of rocks about twenty or so metres out from the coastline that was the perfect hiding spot for watching humans. It was far enough away that they couldn’t see him as he peeked out from around the rocks but close enough that he could watch as they splashed in the shallows, and could still hear the children squeal when the cold waves lapped at their feet.
Henry had been making the swim there for years. His father had shown the spot to him as a child, would sneak him out to take him to the rocks to watch the people, would point out the way they walked on ‘feet’ and despite not being able to breathe underwater, how they loved to splash around in the ocean and pretend they could. Henry had been instantly fascinated.
Arthur had grown up in a colony further north, they’d shared their waters with large boats filled with people who would set sail early in the morning before the sun had risen and return in early light, boats now filled with fish too. He’d told Henry tales about how, many years ago, his ancestors and the ‘fishermen’ would meet, how they got along and worked to keep the sea safe together. Henry’s gran had overheard once, insisting it was all nonsense, that humans were barbarians and cruel and not be trusted. Henry couldn’t understand how that was true, how the same people who built castles of sand on the beaches and made devices to ride the waves could be so evil.
Since his father died, his gran had only gotten more instant in her beliefs, claiming the people who lived in the little village on the coast were to blame for his death. She never provided a reason why she believed this, only that she knew it was true and that he should too, that if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay away.
If his gran ever found out that once a week, sometimes more, he’d sneak away to that patch of rocks and spend hours hidden just out of sight, watching and observing the people, she’d look him in his room and have a boulder placed in front of the door so that he could never leave. If she knew what sometimes, if he was able to get away late enough, he’d wait until the little beach emptied out and swim into the shallows to collect items at were left in the sand within his reach, he’d surely be sent away to one of the colonies in the middle of the ocean, deep in the trenches never to be seen or heard from again.
Henry knew the risks, yet he kept coming back. He couldn’t help himself, there was something about the way the humans moved that enticed him, that captivated his attention.
That night, he’d been forced to endure another dinner where his gran and brother had spent the entire meal berating him about his lack of prospects. His brother had been married for years now; his wife Martha was due to give birth in a matter of weeks. It was, they had decided, his turn to marry.
In their colony, everyone had a role to serve. Some were in charge of minding the schools of fish, others were explorers, travelling outside of the reef to bring news to other colonies, and some were responsible for keeping the peace. Henry longed for a role, something to do with his time and with his mind to keep himself busy. He’d told his brother his once and Philip had laughed and told him he had a role, one of the most important ones, that as a Prince, even without claim to the throne, his role was to set an example to the others in the colony. His role was to uphold the standards of the royal family. His gran and brother had decided that that also meant that it was time he took a wife.
They’d corner him at dinner, gotten him alone on an evening his mother wasn’t feeling up to joining them and his sister, Bea had been sent away on a diplomatic visit in the neighbouring colony. They’d presented him with options, young women of acceptable breeding who meet their standards, thrown names and details about them at him until his head was swimming.
Eventually, it had been too much. He’d shouted at them, told them, again, that he had no intentions of ever marrying, especially not to anyone they’d approve of, and stormed out.
He'd swam away from the palace, using the dim light of the moon to guide him, he didn’t think about where he was going, simply headed straight for his little patch of rocks.
When he’d broken the surface an hour later the moon was at its peak in the sky, full and round, it cast a long silver shadow over the inky black water. Other than the ripples that slowly dissipated around his shoulders, the water was still, small gentle waves few and far between in the windless night.
He placed his hands on the flat top of the tallest rock and heaved himself up to see over the top, he glanced quickly at the beach, ensuring it was empty before he settled himself on the top of the rock. Henry tipped his head back to watch the stars, searching out Orion the way his father had taught him, locating Gemini Canis Major and Tarus in the cluster too. He remembered stories his father had told him about the men in the boats by his village, how they’d use the stars to guide them, so they’d always know how to find home again.
Henry watched as the stars twinkled above him, thousands upon thousands of miles away yet still so bright. He didn’t know how long he sat there on his rock until he heard the shuffle of footsteps on the sand. He quickly dipped back below the dark waters and back into his hiding place, peaking around the edge in time to watch a figure come to a stop just out of reach of the slow-moving tide.
The figure, a man most likely based on his build and height, sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, facing the sea. He didn’t move for a long time, so long that Henry thought he may have fallen asleep in his upright position. Eventually, he stood and rid himself of his shirt and then his trousers too before running into the sea, diving headfirst when the water reached his hips.
He surfaced a few metres in front of Henry, close enough that he had to duck further behind his rocks to avoid being seen. The man’s arms moved rhythmically at his sides to keep himself afloat, rippling the previously calm water.
Up close, Henry could make out his features in the moonlight. Dark hair plastered itself to his head, heavy with water that dripped down his chiselled face and strong jawline. The moonlight shone off his tan skin, highlighting the curves of his shoulders and biceps. He was beautiful, more so than any other human Henry had ever seen.
The man took a deep breath and then plunged himself back below the waves, little ripples forming on the surface of the water in his wake. Henry watched, waiting for him to surface again, counting the seconds as they ticked by, he had just edged himself out from behind the rock, preparing himself to rush forward to pluck the man from below the waves when he finally emerged again. He spat water from his mouth and pushed his hair from his eyes, shaking his head like Henry had seen animals do.
Henry was too captivated by the sight of water droplets glistening on his toned chest to duck away again in time and the man’s eyes found his.
The man yelped, splashing about as he swam backwards putting space between them. Henry considered quickly dipping below the water and swimming away, hoping the man would think he was a trick of the light, but instead, he found himself trapped in the other man’s gaze. He let himself sink lowering in the water, so that it lapped around the top of his shoulders and moved his tail in only the tiniest of flickers, just enough to keep himself afloat without drawing the other man’s eye below the cover of the dark water.
Once the other man calmed himself down and stopped splashing around, they were left to simply stare at each other.
“Sorry, you scared me. I didn’t think anyone else would be out here so late.” The man said an accent Henry hadn’t heard before curling around his vowels. “You probably shouldn’t be out here, it’s not safe.”
“Then why are you out here?” Henry asked, unable to take his eyes off the man. He was wrong, these waters are perfectly safe, Henry’s colony ensured the sharks never came by this part of the cove especially not at this time of the year.
“I’m testing a theory.” The man answered.
Henry dipped lower into the water for a moment, letting himself sink so that he was only visible from his eyes upwards. “What type of theory?” He asked once he’d bobbed back up again.
The other man watched him for a moment, almost as if he was considering whether or not to be truthful. “I never knew who my parents were. I was left on the doorstep of an orphanage as a baby, with just a note pinned to me that said my name was Alex and to keep me away from the sea. So, whenever the nuns would organise beach trips for the other kids I always had to stay back, no one knew why but since it was the only instruction left with me, the nuns upheld it.” Alex takes a deep breath. “I always felt connected to the sea. When the other kids read books about princes and knights, I read old books about mermaids.”
Henry sucked in a breath and backed up, but a little more space between them.
“One day, when I was ten,” Alex continues, “I saw some older boys bullying a kid that was new to the orphanage, so I stepped in to stop them. One of the kids shoved me and I fell into a canal, I hit my head pretty hard on the way down, and since I was kept away from water, I never learnt how to swim. The last thing I remember is the other kids running off as I went under.” His voice trailed off as he paused his story, looking up to the stars as if for guidance.
“I woke up sometime later, I ended up on a river bank a few miles away. It was dark by then and it took me hours to make my way back.” He chuckles slightly then, “You should have seen the faces of those boys when I walked in the doors like they’d seen a ghost.”
He turns back to Henry then, eyes locked on his. “I should have drowned.” He says, voice waving slightly.
“But you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. That’s when my theory started.” The man explained.
“So, what exactly is your theory?” Henry asked, so very curious about this strange man he’d met in the middle of the night.
Henry had never dared interact with the humans he watched before, he had heard far too many stories from his gran growing up. Story about how despite long ago their two kinds had peace, the human had turned on his people, and begun hunting them until they were forced to flee deeper into the oceans and further from the shorelines in order to protect themselves.
This man, however, seemed nothing like the men in the stories he’d been told. He was careful and curious, as gentle as the waves that brushed his skin.
Alex paused again, taking another deep breath, and straightening his shoulders before he answered, confidently. “I’m a mermaid. Or half of one at least.”
Henry watched him for a moment, studying him for signs of a trap. “You believe in mermaids?” He’d asked, tone as neutral as he could make it.
“I know most people think they’re a silly story made up for kids, but I can’t think of another explanation, it’s the only thing that makes any sense. I can hold my breath underwater for over an hour, I’ve tried. I thought, maybe I just needed to come back to the sea, that the water would, I don’t know, trigger something, a change maybe.”
Henry asses him for a moment, the now defeated slump of his shoulders and the downward curl of his pretty mouth before he made a decision, a possibly very stupid and reckless decision. He swam closer, enough to be within arm’s reach of the other man, making sure to keep his tail completely still.
“Do you trust me?” He asked, watching the other man’s face until he nodded in answer.
“Yeah, I do.”
Henry reached for him, placing both hands on the other man’s shoulders and pushed down until he disappeared below the inky water. He splashed around for a moment, fighting against Henry’s hands, trying to push him away before he gave in, allowing himself to be held below the waves.
Then, feather-light, a single finger ran down the length of his tail, from where it began at his hip, all the way down to where it faded out into his fins and back up, over and over. After a while, Henry released his hands from Alex’s shoulders, allowing him to bob back up above the surface once more.
He stared at Henry for a long while, mouth open in shock, a few times his gaze flicked down to where the water rippled around Henry’s chest as if now that he knew his secret, he’d be able to see the tail beneath the water.
“So, my theory was right?” Alex asked eventually.
Henry nodded, “Centuries ago, when we used to live closer to the shores and were able to work with humans, there are stories from that time, of mermaids and people having children together, though no one’s heard of it happening for a very long time.”
“Is it possible that I could change?” Alex asked him, “That I could find a way to live down there.”
“My father told me a very old tale once, about a human man that fell in love with a mermaid.” Henry took a deep breath, trying to remember the story as his father had told it.
“One day,” He began, “a sailor fell overboard of his ship, a storm was brewing so the sea was treacherous, and he was struggling to stay above the water. A mermaid saw him fighting the waves and saved him, pulling him onto a nearby island. They spent weeks there waiting for him to be rescued and while they waited, they talked and slowly they fell in love. Eventually, they gave up hope of rescue coming for him, so they tried to find ways for him to escape the island, but the man secretly sabotaged every attempt because he’d rather have been stuck on that island with her forever than go back home alone.
One night under a full moon, he confessed to her his feelings, and she kissed him. The story goes that his legs changed into fins, and he was suddenly able to breathe below the water, and they returned to her colony together to be married.”
Alex was silent for a while, contemplating the tale. “That’s all it took? A kiss?” he asked, sceptical.
Henry nodded, “I think the full moon was important, but essentially, yes.”
Alex paused for another moment, thinking. “If I asked, would you do it?”
“Do what?” Henry asked.
“Kiss me under a full moon so I could live below the sea?” Alex replied simply.
Henry froze, taken aback that the other man would want that. “Is that what you’d really want? You’d never be able to go back on land.”
“On land, I have no one, no friends, no family, no prospects. I have nothing going for me up here. All my life I never felt like I belonged here.” His voice was shook but he never broke eye contact.
Herny thought about what he’d run from that night, his overbearing brother and controlling grandmother, the crushing weight of their expectations on him. “Believe me, down there isn’t much better.”
“At least down there I’d have you.”
Henry glanced back at the moon; it was suddenly too much to look at Alex with his earnest brown eyes as he said things Herny had longed his whole life to hear. The moon’s position had shifted, now much closer to the horizon than it had been before, in the opposite direction, the first peaks of light began to spill across the sea, when Henry looked back at Alex, the yellow beams highlighted his hair and tan skin, painting him in golden light.
Henry swam a little closer again, and flicked his tail against Alex’s leg, watching his eyes light up as he laughed at the feeling. He kept moving closer until he could reach out and cup his hand against Alex’s cheek.
“If you are sure,” He started.
“I am.” Alex interrupted him. “I’ve never been sure of anything in life, except for this.”
And so, as the full moon began to dip its away below the waves, Henry kissed his mysterious boy.
Henry had seen the fires the humans would light on the beach, big roaring things that would radiate heat so far that even he could feel it from behind his rocks. He’d felt the mid-day summer sun on his skin as he’d floated on his back in the middle of the open sea, bathing him in the sunlight. Neither compared to the bright simmering glow that was lit inside his chest at the first press of their lips. He felt it tickle out of his heart, coursing its way through his body from his chest out along the lines of his arms to his fingertips, tingling as it made its way down his stomach to his tail. He felt alight, like if he were to open his eyes the world would be bathing in a bright orange glow that beamed out from his core.
When they broke apart, it was only far enough to rest their foreheads together. They stared into each other eyes until suddenly Alex’s eyes went wide, and he let out a small gasp, breaking their locked gaze to look down at the water circling them.
Henry trailed his hand which until then was still cupping Alex’s cheek, down over the smooth plains of his chest under the water. He traced his hand down past his waist, over the expanse of his stomach to his hip and then lower to where his fingertips should have met more soft skin but instead met smooth scales.
Before he could say anything, Alex’s lips were back on his, kissing him again. They stayed like that for a long time, arms wrapped around each other, and lips locked as they explored each other mouths, tails swishing below them to keep them afloat.
Eventually, when the moon finally sank below the horizon and the sun painted the sky in bright orange and purples, Henry took Alex’s hand and pulled him below the surface to take him home.