Chapter Text
Chan loved the sea. It was his first true love beyond his family. He loved the strength of its waves, and the calm hidden underneath. It was cold, yet it always readily embraced Chan, luring him in with playful splashes around his feet. To him, it was always beautiful, and he was thankful everyday that their castle was beside such a majestic entity that housed so much life he could only imagine.
He wished his father had held such love of the sea. It would have made his funeral far less ironic.
The late king’s coffin was raised on a pillar of flowers chosen by Chan’s mother, a mixture of white, blues, and pale pinks that paired well with the sandy shore beneath them. They stood boldly against the black box that housed his father’s body as castle staff, local lords, and high end common folk all gathered to pay their respects. People talked amongst themselves, as well as towards Chan’s family, albeit mostly to his mother, but Chan didn’t hear them. Not really. His mind was elsewhere as he stared into the sea.
He didn’t have the closest relationship with the man. Sure, there were times they were all together, and those were admittedly happy memories, but there was a rift that could never be mended. The kind moments of the king being a good father were overshadowed by his hatred for the thing that Chan loved most.
His father would casually complain that he hated the smell of the ocean, a smell that Chan adored, or say that the sea held foul beasts that needed to be dealt with. So many times, he watched his father angrily storm off with a boat and a crew for a few days, only to return with an eerie look of satisfaction on his face as the men dragged carcasses to shore of different creatures that Chan had only seen in books.
Now the king’s carcass was displayed on the very same beach of all those beasts that came before him.
Chan felt no sadness or anger because of it. He honestly just felt numb.
As the sun began its approach to the horizon, the funerary ceremony officially began, and a silence fell over the crowd as the head priest spoke. There were several lower ranking priests hovering around, lighting candles, waving staves, and sprinkling water here and there, but Chan paid attention to none of it. His eyes were back to the sea as he had an internal debate on whether or not he should simply walk into the waters to find peace and escape this situation. Because he was watching the waves lap at the soft sandy shore, he noticed something break the surface and slowly rise out of the water. Then there were several things.
“Mother,” Chan said quietly, touching the woman’s arm to get her attention. He didn’t see her turn to observe what Chan was looking at, but he heard her small hushed gasp at the sight that Chan couldn’t look away from.
A dozen people walked out of the water, sporting glossy black hair and skin that shimmered as it caught the dying light of day.
Chan’s mother was the first to move, and Chan quickly followed in step along with the rest of his family members. A few guards pulled up beside them as the rest of the crowd broke out in unintelligible murmurs, the ceremony easily forgotten. The newcomers remained along the shoreline so their bare feet were still able to feel the eb and flow of the tide. They merely waited there in an almost haunting way as Chan’s family approached, watching them carefully. The closer they got, the more fine details Chan could make out, such as the flat spined ears that peeked out of their dark locks, or the patches of scales on their face and limbs. Although he had never seen anyone like them, Chan had grown up on stories about such things, and thus knew exactly what they were dealing with as they now stood face to face with the tall beings.
Sirens. Real life sirens. Not only that, but if the circlets woven into their hair were anything to go by, they were royalty, just like Chan’s family.
His mother must have noticed as well, for she dipped into an elegant bow to the visitors, prompting all her children to do the same. The sirens looked almost surprised, but readily reciprocated the greeting, albeit in a different style than what Chan was used to. The stone faces they held earlier seemed to have melted into something more relaxed after that.
“Welcome, dear neighbors, to our humble lands. What pray tell brings you upon these shores?”
There was subtle movement after his mother’s words, and he noticed one siren lean and whisper something to the central most person, the one Chan assumed was the king judging by the intricacy of his crown. Though he knew the proper thing to do was to keep his eye on the clear leader of the party, he couldn’t help but be distracted by the one whispering, for he looked slightly different from all the others. He was shorter, for starters, and his features were softer compared to the dagger like edges of the rest of their faces. His overall coloration was far warmer than the blue gray base tones the rest of the sirens had, with his hair being more of a dark brown, and his skin held a golden peach undertone. Even the scale patches on his skin were significantly smaller and made of far more delicate scales than those of his counterparts. His eyes were still just as dark, however, something Chan noticed when the man happened to look his way and they locked sights. Yet, there was something more gentle about them compared to the other sirens, though Chan couldn't really say why.
Chan nearly jumped out of his skin when the siren king started talking, or at least that's what Chan assumed he was doing. His voice was thick and wet sounding with bell-like trills, and it made Chan think of the sound of someone drowning, yet the unsettling sounds were spoken so melodically, he was starting to understand the tales of many a man getting tempted to their doom. When he seemed to be finished speaking, Chan gave his mother a side glance to see if she knew what exactly was going on, but she, too, seemed a bit lost.
A soft sigh was breathed from the warm-toned siren and he stepped forward, being the closest of all them towards the humans.
“We come to see if the hunter king is true dead,” he said in a voice far softer than Chan anticipated. His speech was stilted, unpracticed, clearly a language the siren wasn’t used to speaking.
“Hunter king?” Chan found himself asking, and he noticed his mother let out a long slow breath as she closed her eyes, as though she knew exactly what was about to be said next.
“The king who sailed our waters, killed our creatures, and murdered our people. There is talk he finally died. We come to make sure.”
While Chan was at a loss for words, his mother was not.
“My husband, the king, is dead,” she said solemnly, and motioned behind her towards the crowd of humans that kept their distance as they muttered to one another. “We are currently holding a funeral for his passing, and shall put him to rest in the evening. I am sorry to hear of his actions that have brought you so much strife, but I assure you that your pain ends alongside his life.”
The siren who seemed to be the interpreter thought for a moment before speaking to his king, his voice now mimicking that drowning sound, though it was not nearly as sharp as the king’s had been. The king lifted his chin in response to the information, looked Chan’s family up and down, and then spoke again.
“How we know you are not same?” the warm one translated.
“My son, the next to be king, loves the sea and all it holds. If you do not trust our words alone, perhaps an arrangement shall be made, such as a trade agreement or a marriage if that’s what it takes.”
Chan glanced at his mother before back to the sirens, suddenly nervous about the situation for the first time. He had a feeling he would one day be a part of a political marriage, especially considering that was how his own parents were united, but to have it be proposed out loud made the concept real. It also didn’t help that she was suggesting it not to another human kingdom, but to aquatic beings that Chan had only just now even laid eyes on. He watched and waited with bated breath to see what the king would say, but the interpreter wasn’t talking. Instead, he was looking at Chan’s mother in a confused manner, and Chan watched the man’s eyes slide over to Chan since she had motioned to her son as she spoke.
“Mayer edge?” the siren said slowly, as the syllables seemed so foreign to his mouth.
Chan then realized he didn’t know what that word meant.
“Um, two people,” Chan said slowly, holding up two fingers, then motioning between them. “Come together,” he said, hooking his pointer fingers together. “In a union.”
That word, union, seemed to be the key, because Chan saw the other man’s eyes visibly react to that word.
“Union,” he repeated, as though making sure it was the correct word.
“Yes,” Chan nodded.
There was a pause, and the interpreter slowly turned to the king, his eyes only leaving Chan at the last possible second. As he explained what the humans had said, Chan watched the king and several others become mildly surprised at his words, even looking at one another before the king nodded and said something.
“We agree to Siren’s Union,” he translated, though he said it to Chan and not Chan’s mother.
“Of course,” his mother answered in his stead. “I do, however, ask for it to happen after the coronation in three days' time, when my son is officially king.”
The message was relayed, and an answer was quickly given.
“Agree. It will give time to find sacrifice. Until then.”
They quickly bowed and returned to the water before Chan could process the words. He watched them disappear into the waves far faster than they had appeared from them. He was still staring at the waters when his mother put a hand on his shoulder.
“We must finish on the task at hand,” she gently reminded him, and eased him towards the funeral that waited to be finished.
Once again, his mind was elsewhere as the ceremony continued, though at least this time, it was on one thing specifically.
What did they mean by sacrifice?
The coronation felt longer than it actually was, though Chan blamed it on the fact that he was a bit distracted throughout the event. He had been nervous to begin with, but it only compounded when he lined up to start walking down the long white and gold carpet adorning the grand hall, either side filled to the brim with onlookers that were watching his every move. He turned his head to the side in hopes of seeing familiar guards lining the back wall next to him, friendly faces to help calm him down. There were a few, which indeed helped when they gave a supporting smile, until his eyes found a face he recognized but didn’t expect to see again. They were wearing a hooded cloak, hiding most of their features, but just enough of their face still was visible, showing off warm iridescent skin and dark eyes.
Chan’s lips parted, gripped with the urge to speak to the man, however, he had no chance to say a word. Music began playing, signaling that it was time for Chan to start walking, for the coronation to officially begin.
Even after walking away and standing before the masses as he was sworn into kinghood, his eyes continued to fall onto the robed figure in the back, barely visible at this distance if Chan was being honest. Still, he was hyper aware of the fact that once the ceremony ended and the waves of people exited the building, the hooded man did not move from his spot. He remained standing there in that exact spot until the very last visitor left the grand hall, finally allowing Chan to approach him, vaguely aware of his family filing behind him.
“Hello, again,” Chan said with a small bow and half a smile.
The warm one did not reciprocate. No bow. No smile. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrow, holding a ferocity that had not been present when they had first met.
“It is time,” was all the man said before he started walking, moving out the front doors with Chan quickly on his tail.
“For the union?” Chan asked when he had caught up with the other.
All he received was a side glance as they moved towards the beach. Now that they were no longer amongst the common folk, the warm one lowered his hood, allowing afternoon sun to glisten off his sparse dusting of scales and the circlet peeking out between his bangs.
“May I ask you something?” Chan continued, keeping one step again so he could at least see the other’s expression as he spoke. There was a quiet sigh, but no objections, so Chan continued. “What did you mean by sacrifice?”
He eyed Chan with a questioning look of annoyance, but he did answer, “For the Union, of course.”
A tiny pit was starting to form deep within Chan’s stomach.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean by that?”
The man scoffed.
“Not many are wanting to tie their life to a weak human and die young.”
“Die young?” Chan questioned, the pit slowly growing.
“Sirens live to 300 years,” he explained, keeping his eyes on the approaching ocean. “But if they link their soul to human, they die when human dies. A young life.”
“They die?!” Chan exclaimed, moving to walk right in front of the warm one. “Why would they die?”
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.
“That’s how Union works. Our souls are one. It goes both ways, you know. If I die first, it means you die with me.”
At this point, all walking ceased as the gravity of the situation sunk in. This wasn’t just a marriage of convenience, a simple sign of peace. He, the now king, was about to utterly place his life into someone else's hands, someone who wasn’t even a member of the human race. Chan should be asking so many more questions, demanding so many explanations, but all he could think of was one simple word.
“You?”
The siren’s face flinched, looking more perturbed than ever, and returned to marching towards the shore, where Chan finally noticed a small group of sirens waiting for them. Chan caught up quickly enough.
“May I at least know your name?” Chan asked gently.
He seemed reluctant, though there was a brief moment where his face softened, a small crack in his shield.
“Seungmin,” he said quietly.
“Seungmin,” Chan repeated, trying to memorize the name with his tongue. “My name is Chan.”
There was a sort of nod, but no other response before they were standing before the group of taller sirens. While Chan recognized a few of the royalty from last time, there was a newcomer amongst them who sported an intricate headdress of shells and bones who was looking Chan up and down with great intensity.
“Son,” came his mother’s voice quietly behind him, and he looked to see her worried face staring back at him. “I know this was my suggestion, but in light of the severity of the situation, if you do not wish to do this, we can find another way.”
Chan turned to find the warm one, Seungmin, watching him carefully. The glare from earlier seemed to have faded, letting Chan see the oddly gentle eyes he had seen the first day they had met.
“It’s okay, Mother,” Chan told her, giving a small smile to ease any concerns. “I trust him.”
She smiled and nodded, placing a hand on her other children as they mentally prepared themselves to watch Chan give his life away to someone he barely knew. Seungmin, on the other hand, was merely staring at Chan, his mouth slightly agape with a small hint of confusion written across his face. He seemed fairly out of it, considering the one in the headdress said something, and Seungmin didn’t move to answer nor translate. He only reacted when the headdressed one spoke again, something short and harsh, causing Seungmin to flinch and finally look at her. Whatever had been said, it seemed to upset him, but he answered in a clearly subservient tone, all of which rubbed Chan the wrong way. The headdress made soft tinkling sounds when the woman nodded, then said something more as she took a scepter of sorts from a different siren standing nearby.
“Do what I do,” Seungmin said quietly, and held Chan’s utmost attention.
He removed his cloak, revealing the thin flowy fabric Chan had now come to associate with sirens at this point, since all of them seemed to garb themselves in similar material. He then rearranged his shirt to purposefully expose part of his chest, and Chan finally remembered that he was supposed to be doing the same. He removed his double breasted coat and undid the top several buttons of his undershirt until he was exposing just as much skin. Seungmin held out his right hand, so Chan did the same. Seungmin then used his left hand to grab Chan’s hand to press his palm flat against the skin that was colder than Chan expected, all the while staring Chan in the eye as he did so. Chan copied him, very aware of the cool fingers that splayed over his heart.
The woman’s voice changed when she started singing, turning into something beautifully haunting that held its own echo, even before some of the other sirens began singing along. Fingers flexed nervously against his skin, and he rubbed his thumb against the hand he held to his chest. For a fleeting moment, he thought the other man was about to smile at him, but they both jolted in place when a great pulse of energy swept through them, stealing the breath from their lungs. His chest started to burn as something within him stretched and pulled apart, making him feel as though his entire being was being torn asunder. Just before he was about to snap, a foreign presence weaved itself into the gaps, intertwining his core with what he realized was Seungmin’s own essence. All the pain then melted away, leaving only a feeling of being submerged in warmth, as though he was being embraced in every possible way imaginable.
Chan decided that this was a feeling that he never wanted to relinquish.