Archive of Our Own

“Are you sure about this, captain?”

Wriothesley gazed out to the endless blue waters that he had sailed a thousand times over now. Today marked the second sleepless night he had in a row — he feared it would be the second of many should they delay in their quest any longer. However, Wriothesley, Captain of the Meropide, had determined this to be a necessary stop.

He was going to do whatever it took to get Sigewinne back to him as quickly as possible.

So, following that line of thought, Wriothesley was now standing on a small inlet that had nothing but a small patch of grass and a few coconut trees.

There was nothing special about this minute strip of land.

It was what Wriothesley intended to do here that made the location necessary. Wide open seas, and a clear disadvantage. As the trusted leader of a fairly large crew, Wriothesley would’ve never put themselves at such a position. Though, he was left without much choice given their predicament.

He grasped the brittle palm-sized conch in his hand — how could such a small shell determine the fate of himself and his crew for the nights that followed? This conch, too, was unassuming in its appearance. Yet, years of experience at sea had clued Wriothesley in on the specific property it had to bring forth the aid he needed. The outer surface was normal, but the insides revealed an iridescent black sheen — a merfolk’s singing conch.

This had to work.

Finally, he let out a quiet exhale in response to his first mate’s question: “This is the only hope we have to sail through the Morte Region without harm.”

“It may not work at all. We’re wasting time trying to engage a merfolk to try and aid us.”

“If we do manage to strike a deal, then we’d save even more time. It’s worth a shot, Jurieu. The crew’s morale is already low enough with what we’ve lost.”

His first mate let out a quiet exhale, tired but not protesting, “Alright. Then, let’s begin.”

Lifting the conch to his lips, Wriothesley held it in his hands and blew into it. Around them, the sound was subtle, barely a whisper in consideration to its brittle state as the soft note vibrated across the shell and out into the open air. For a moment, it didn't sound any different from any other conch, maybe even softer than most other conches, but as Wriothesley continued to force air into the small opening, the subtle one-note soon turned into a rich siren song, a loud and hypnotizing melody that sounded like it was being sung by one of the sea’s many temptresses.

When Wriothesley had lowered the conch, Wriothesley almost expected to be disappointed. It was just a magic item — and nothing was coming to respond to its call.

When he blinked, a flash of blue on the north shore caught his eye.

Turning his head, Wriothesley’s eyes widened as he stood, awestruck for a fleeting second. Despite all his travels and all the sights he had seen before, he had never seen a merman who made as big of an impression as the one before him.

With round eyes encompassed with long lashes and moonlight silver hair that cascaded down his shoulders, his features were strikingly beautiful. His breath caught in his throat as their gazes met. Across his skin were varying shades of blue and white, scales speckled in polygonal shapes starting from the area of skin where his tail began. It trailed upwards in scattered patches of glittering colors up to his cheek and behind his temples.

Wriothesley began walking over, narrowly avoiding his first mate that tried to stop him. Jurieu had stumbled forward, grasping wildly only to fall short of catching his captain by the arm. Continuing forward, Wriothesley’s eyes glimpsed along the length of the merman’s tail, glittering and glorious in all regards before he came to a stop a few feet in front of their new arrival.

“Where did you get that shell?” was the first thing that escaped his lips. His voice was a smooth baritone, carrying gently across the sea breeze into Wriothesley’s ear.

“We traded for it in a port on the North Sea.”

The merman blinked slowly, ever so slowly tilting his head, “So, it was stolen from us.”

“I cannot tell you of its origin. I apologize,” Wriothesley murmured, bowing his head in respect — an omission of his guilt in its own way.

From where he stood, he could hear the ocean dweller shuffling closer. Wriothesley did not lift his head despite spotting the blue-webbed fingers coming into his line of vision. He kept his eyes trained to the tips of his boots. Perhaps it was because talking to the other felt more and more like he was being compelled in some way or other. Or, it could just be that this experience felt surreal.

He heard more shuffling — Wriothesley guessed it was the sound of his tail dragging along the sand as he inched a little closer before he finally spoke again, “As per the laws of the sea, I must grant you an audience, regardless of how you obtained the conch. What is your purpose for calling me here?”

“Someone very dear to me has been taken. We know with absolute certainty that the culprits have made their way into the Morte Region — my crew and I need your aid to ensure an easier passage through those waters.”

“Tell me, human, who are you?”

“Captain Wriothesley of the Meropide.”

“Then, please do not avert your gaze when we are conversing, Captain Wriothesley.”

Wriothesley was often reminded that these pelagic creatures of the depths were often dangerous — and he’d carried that belief through his lifetime without a single doubt. Perhaps it was for this very same conjecture that he had inadvertently kept his gaze lowered before the merman had pointed it out.

What would happen if their eyes met?

Rationally, Wriothesley knew that nothing at all would happen. There were so-called divine laws that these pelagic folk respected wholeheartedly, and this recognition alone would keep the merman from acting maliciously up until an agreement had been reached.

However, when Wriothesley lifted his gaze to meet the merman’s glittering eyes, Wriothesley couldn’t help but feel as though he were being drowned by the opalescent gaze. His heart hammered away, an unsteady rhythm that sounded far too loud in Wriothesley’s ears. Was it the influence of the merman, or was it just Wriothesley’s own weakness? Parting his lips, the pirate spoke with a surprisingly steady voice: “It is only fair that I learn your name as well, no?”

“You may call me Neuvillette.”

“What can I offer you so that you may agree to my request, Neuvillette?” The name rolled off of Wriothesley’s tongue, reminding him of quaint ports with calm waters. A strange association, but Wriothesley found his heart calming just a little.

Neuvillette’s head tilted, vibrant eyes boring holes into Wriothesley’s body for the merman alone to take a peek at the color of his soul.

What would he find?

Perhaps wispy blues like the ocean he had spent his life on, or angry reds like the frustration he kept so well hidden in his heart. Perhaps there was only black for the loss he had endured.

Before Wriothesley could speculate any further, the ocean dweller seemed to perk up, “I can sense the presence of water aboard your ship.”

“Uh—”

“Spring water, likely from the east. You don’t seem to have any use for it.”

Wriothesley blinked slowly, trying to process what the other was trying to say. Idly, he remembered a fancy bottle of that description somewhere in his private quarters. Was it a Liyuen item? Wasn’t it a gift of some sort?

How the merman seemed to know of the existence of this bottle evaded him though — was it just an innate ability that all pelagic creatures were naturally capable of? Or, perhaps Neuvillette had truly looked into Wriothesley’s mind and soul to parse through the memories he had long since forgotten. The exact details of the bottle seemed to escape him, but he acted on Neuvillette’s wishes. Wriothesley turned to Jurieu, shouting over the distance for his first mate to fetch him the bottle of Chenyu Spring Water from his chambers.

Neuvillette watched the exchange with curious eyes before he asked, “You will give it to me?”

“It is as you said — I have no use for it. Though, I suppose the same could be said to you; what use does a merman have for a sealed bottle of Chenyu Vale’s finest spring waters?”

There was a soft hum in his throat as the white-haired man glanced back towards the vast oceans. On his face was a forlorn look that Wriothesley couldn’t quite place: was it longing or a sense of loss? Wriothesley wondered if he should’ve been more capable of discerning such an expression when he himself had been at the mercy of such devastation all too many times.

As Neuvillette turned to give Wriothesley his response, the gravity in his tone struck him by surprise, “I am oceanbound, and I cannot go further than the shore. You, who walk on the land, can freely explore this vast world. Perhaps I have no use for spring water either, but all I am really asking for is a little piece of your past travels.”

“You can have it,” Wriothesley spoke as if he was lured in by the barely there yearning in Neuvillette’s voice, “And I’ll tell you of my travels, too.”

“I’d like that.”

Before Wriothesley could respond, however, Jurieu stumbled back onto the shore, running unsteadily across the coarse sand to hand Wriothesley the requested bottle. Studying the curved glass in his hand, he made sure that his first mate had retrieved the correct item before he handed it over to Neuvillette, “One bottle of Chenyu Spring Water.”

Reaching out a hand, Neuvillette gently took the bottle into his grasp. Wriothesley watched as his eyes seemed to soften. To himself, Wriothesley supposed it was nothing more than a souvenir. To the merman’s eyes, however, he gazed at the bottle as though it were the largest pearl he had ever laid his eyes on.

When Neuvillette lifted his gaze, his tailfins began to glow a soft blue, barely noticeable in the light of the day, and yet, vibrant enough for Wriothesley to feel the ocean’s power wash over him. It felt like waves sweeping over him, the scent of seabreeze growing stronger as Neuvillette spoke: “Captain Wriothesley, what a gem you’ve given me. With the promise that you will tell me these stories you have mentioned, I will guide the Meropide through the Morte Region — ensuring you and your crew’s utmost safety.”

Thus, his agreement with a merman was sealed.

It had been five nights since they set sail with a merman acting as their map and compass.

It took a day or two for his crew to get used to the idea of journeying with a merman, but Neuvillette was surprisingly easy to talk to. In the mornings, he’d swim alongside the ship. When he grew tired, he clambered up onto the deck and bathed in the sun, idly chatting with the occasional crewmember who wanted to strike a conversation with him. In the nights, Wriothesley would often find the ocean dweller near the front deck of their ship. Wriothesley would inadvertently find himself wandering over to keep Neuvillette company before the other drifted off into a restful sleep.

This cycle continued outside of the occasion that Neuvillette would let them know to change their course ever so slightly.

Wriothesley never questioned why, only telling their navigator to follow his instruction.

Tonight, he sat with Neuvillette as usual, Wriothesley’s legs hung over the edge of the deck as he watched the rocky waves under the bright moonlight of a full moon. It was strangely calm in the days that led up to this point of their sailing, and Wriothesley knew that that only meant trouble ahead.

He was indulging Neuvillette with a tale about the tall mountains in Mondstadt, explaining the arduous hikes that he took as a youth up to the highest points. The view was incredible, he said as he recounted the quaint scenes to the merman, and in turn, the merman’s eyes sparkled with intrigue.

“What are dandelions?”

“They’re like flowers. You blow on them and the seeds are scattered into the air.”

“Flowers… I’ve never heard of a flower that could do that.”

“Nature is surely fascinating. Hold on, maybe I have something in my chambers for you…” Wriothesley stood and trotted away before Neuvillette could protest. As a pirate, perhaps it was stereotypical of him to be holding onto a hoard of items, either expensive, sentimental or just because he could. In a way, he supposed he had indeed collected all of these in hopes of showing these off one day.

And, that day happened to be today.

Returning to Neuvillette’s side, he presented the other with a resin block with preserved flowers on the inside. Wriothesley didn’t even remember how he had obtained it — it was certainly not something that came with treasures or bounty, this couldn’t have possibly been worth more than a gold coin. Yet, Neuvillette’s eyes widened as he gingerly took the block into the cup of his hands, gasping in awe at the well-preserved shapes and colors of the flowers inside.

“It’s beautiful.”

So are you, Wriothesley wanted to say.

Instead, Wriothesley leaned over and pointed out the individual flowers resting in the resin — sunflower, rose, asters. Neuvillette echoed the names as Wriothesley said them, as if committing it to memory.

Wriothesley couldn’t stop the shit eating grin that was creeping in to rest along his face, unable to be wiped into a neutral state once more. Sometimes, he still wondered if Neuvillette had cast a spell on him. What other explanation could he use to describe that warmth that grew in his chest like the bonfires by the beach whenever he was in the company of the merman?

Or, perhaps, if he dug deeper, he’d find himself unable to deny the fact that he was undeniably attracted to the other. It was infatuation. It was shallow. And, that was why he was behaving like a gawky teen. But, without a doubt, Wriothesley found that his eyes lingered on him far too often, and his mind drifted to thoughts of him even in the quietude of the Captain’s chambers.

What was he supposed to do?

Neuvillette was so far from what he would’ve thought an ocean dweller would be. It wasn’t just intrigue or curiosity anymore — and Wriothesley would be damned if he ever spoke it into existence.

All of this was just idle musing though.

Finally, Neuvillette placed the preserved flowers down onto the floorboards and looked out to the sea. He watched the waves for a moment, letting their comfortable silence wash over them once more before he spoke with a heaviness, “We will enter the Morte Region tonight. Or, at least, we'll cross the border of the seas before sunrise. You understand, Wriothesley, that there can only be more dangers as we sail ahead.”

“I know. We won’t know what we’ll see once we cross over… so, the only thing I can do is thank you for your help once more. I’m sure it’s more tiresome for you who has to be on alert at all times.”

He’d heard the stories before and Wriothesley was more than happy to avoid the rampant sea serpents, leviathans, sirens and other likenesses that were going to delay their journey. Wriothesley himself had never sailed these seas before — simply because he wasn’t going to blindly lead members of his crew to their inadvertent deaths. It was wasteful. All in the name of some glory that would soon be forgotten.

“It is a small task. I consider it worthwhile when I’m being rewarded with the tales of your adventures,” Neuvillette offered Wriothesley a small smile. It was a shy expression, one that Wriothesley couldn’t help lingering on for just a moment longer.

Rather than question it any further, Wriothesley let out a soft hum, “Alright. What else can I tell you about tonight?”

“This friend of yours — that you wanted my help to seek out. Who are they?”

“Ah… Sigewinne,” Wriothesley didn’t intend for his voice to dip into sadness, but it felt like he wouldn’t have been able to stop it from bubbling out of him like hot water anyway, “She’s… like my sister. She’s older than me, even if everyone doesn’t believe that. Before we lost her, she was our crew’s surgeon.”

“How did you lose her?”

“She was taken from us when we docked to resupply. Sigewinne’s healing… she is capable of magic, you see, so her gifts are coveted amongst other pirates.”

Neuvillette went quiet. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the shimmering blue tail swish gently across the floorboards, leaving a dark trail of wetness along the wood. Then, he sighed out in noticeable frustration, “So, she is from the ocean?”

“I don’t know the exact details, but as far as I am aware — yes.”

“Our people have always been targeted by mortals. How do I know that you are not the same as the others?”

Wriothesley considered the other’s words, trying to find a way to soothe Neuvillette’s doubt. When he found none, Wriothesley could honestly and earnestly respond to the merman’s accusations: “Right now, I have no proof. You would only have to honor our agreement. But, when you find her, you can observe the way we interact. I assure you, I’m not trying to fool you with the depth of our bond. She herself offered to join my crew.”

Another pause.

Was that unsatisfactory?

This time, Neuvillette inched himself closer, shuffling his weight along the empty space between them before he was a mere inch from Wriothesley. He leaned in, forcing Wriothesley to meet his gaze as the air around them turned starkly cold. In his opalescent eyes, there was a hurricane brewing while he studied Wriothesley. His breath caught in his throat as Neuvillette leaned ever closer, nose to nose.

Neuvillette’s rounded irises turned to sharp slits.

The pirate captain forgot how to breathe.

Wriothesley was not one to know of fear so intimately, but still, he felt its cold hand creep along his back as Neuvillette watched him, studying him — searching for flaws as though he were nothing more than prey.

Then, the merman retreated without another word and Wriothesley took a gulp of salty ocean air, somehow having lost the innate function of his lungs while Neuvillette had him locked within the prison of his gaze. Wriothesley could still hear his heart pounding, and yet, the air shifted from the dreadful chill he swore had been there just moments ago to the gentle warmth that he had grown used to.

He was still a merman.

They were still just as dangerous, Wriothesley reminded himself. Despite the reminder though, Wriothesley knew he wasn’t afraid of the merman being a risk — after all, being a pirate meant taking risks. Wriothesley also knew that he wouldn’t be distancing himself either, not when Neuvillette had Wriothesley’s wholehearted attention.

“Come, Captain. I want to hear more about the mountains of Mondstadt. We didn’t get to finish.”

And, just like that, the other had nudged the conversation back into normalcy, as if they weren’t just discussing Sigewinne and Wriothesley’s motives a few minutes ago. As if his eyes hadn’t turned to predatory slits while imagining Wriothesley’s limp heart mere seconds ago.

“Of course. Where did I stop?”

Wriothesley was not under any spells. No magic or temptations, as much as he could tell. In that sense, that placed him beneath a man who was indeed bewitched, for that man would have had no free will. Wriothesley, on the other hand, was in total control of what he was doing, and perhaps that would be his doom.

It was another three days into their voyage now. The days were long and the nights were longer. Something about trying to sail as quietly as possible so as to not disturb the creatures and the dead dwelling just beneath the surface would never feel quite right.

So far, the Morte Region was living up to its deadly reputation.

If the heavy fog that had settled atop the waters and inhibited their sights wasn’t dangerous enough, they were forced to fight off a sea serpent, narrowly escaping with their boat intact on the first day. Then, on the second day, they sailed through the siren-infested rocks where Wriothesley swore they almost turned into siren food there and then were it not for Neuvillette leading them away.

’I just reminded them of an agreement they need to honor,’ Neuvillette said idly when Wriothesley had asked how the merman had directed them elsewhere.

Whatever that meant, Wriothesley didn’t pry further.

It was a quiet night. The crew on his ship were starting to grow restless with their seeming lack of destination.

Normally, it was usually Sigewinne that would be here to help soothe them. There was no doubt that Sigewinne was much more than the crew’s surgeon, after all.

This time, with no Sigewinne using her charm, it was Wriothesley who made his rounds to make sure everyone’s morale was still intact. It was going to be okay —- they would find Sigewinne — they'd get out of these godforsaken seas in no time at all.

As Wriothesley made his way back to the merman’s side, however, he noticed that Neuvillette seemed on high alert. His tail glowed a light blue, emitting a gentle light that only seemed brighter under dark clouds and the hazy mist that surrounded them. His eyes were trained forward and his scales rippled in varying shades of blues and greens. Was that good or bad?

Wriothesley already began to fear the worst, though he wasn’t really sure what could be worse than the sea serpent they had to wrangle. He could still hear the strained creak of wood whenever they walked across the deck, proving that some repair was needed.

The captain could only hope that they weren’t going to run into any more sea serpents, lest they all return to the city’s shorelines with rowboats. Though, he supposed that would certainly be a first for all of them.

“What’s wrong?”

The question seemed to go over his head as Neuvillette’s head turned to the side, failing to answer the question as he called: “Wriothesley?”

“Yes?”

“We will part ways after this.”

He pretended not to notice the way his stomach dropped to his feet, tumbling into the harsh waves beneath before drifting out into the sea. Why did Wriothesley dread that? Was it not better this way? Was this not the rules they had agreed on? To find Sigewinne, and then the merman was free to go.

Wriothesley knew nothing would come out of this — but, he also knew his curiosity knew no bounds. In that regard, Neuvillette was the biggest mystery that he would always keep coming back to.

“We will. Did you have fun being a pirate’s navigator?” Wriothesley said, somehow finding it in him to tease the merman nonetheless.

“I had fun getting to know you, Captain Wriothesley.”

The pirate fell silent. Sometimes, he forgot how earnest the other was. It seemed teasing wasn’t exactly in a merfolk’s dictionary — and as such, the playfulness of Wriothesley’s question was thrown out the window to make room for an honest conversation.

“It was nice to talk to you, too, Neuvillette.”

Even now, Neuvillette did not meet his gaze, eyes focused everywhere but on the captain.

“You need to anchor the boat.”

“What?”

“Anchor the boat and come with me, Wriothesley,” Without any further explanation to his command, Neuvillette clambered over the railing and dropped into the water with a splash. Wriothesley watched, wide-eyed as the other disappeared under the waves. He waited for a second longer, watching the waves to see if Neuvillette would reappear. He did not.

Was Wriothesley just meant to dive in with him? Was this a trap?

There was no time to reconsider.

“Jurieu. If I don’t return by the end of the day, you need to turn this ship around and leave.”

“And if we run into any trouble?”

Wriothesley pulled his coat off, tossing it to the side, all too aware of his entire crew’s eyes fixated on his back. What are the odds that this was a trap? Wriothesley wanted so dearly to believe that Neuvillette wouldn’t trick him like this. Would his crew be alright? They all knew the possibilities when they had agreed to journey with him to find Sigewinne. Was he a fool after all? He wouldn’t know unless he took the chance. Thump. Thump. Both of his boots were tossed onto the deck as he climbed onto the rail, looking down below as he took a few steadying breaths.

“If there’s trouble, get yourselves to safety first. Don’t worry about me.”

And then, he jumped.

The first thing that hit him was the unbelievable chill that had settled into his bones. He had to remind himself not to gasp in shock — lest he risked taking in a lungful of saltwater.

The water itself was dark. With the fog and the clouds overhead, it wasn’t a shocker to him that he could barely see past the murky depths — he was no better than a helpless child drowning in the waves. Slowly, he let himself sink deeper and deeper down into the water before—

He hit the seabed.

Except, this wasn’t so much of a seabed as it was likely a part of a longshore.

Was there something that had Neuvillette on edge?

Was Sigewinne nearby?

When Neuvillette said that they would part ways ‘after this’, did he mean their voyage, or whatever he had sensed while on the boat?

Whatever the case, Wriothesley couldn’t just sit here forever either. He’d run out of air sooner than he’d expect. Before he could start blindly tracing his way across the sand beneath him, his eyes caught onto a flash of blue.

Reaching out in the direction of the soft glow of light, an almost instinctive reaction now at the sight of something illuminating the darkness, he stretched his arms out, expecting to grasp a tail, or maybe some kind of bluish kelp, at least.

Wriothesley was instead met with something closing around both of his arms, clutching his limbs tightly in its grasp.

Sharp nails dug into his flesh, forcing him to recoil backward in the water.

His entire body tensed as he leaned back, trying in vain to get away from the vice grip only to fail in his effort. He was going to waste oxygen like this. He tried again, asserting more force in the opposite direction as he attempted to tear himself from whatever it was.

Just as he was about to start thrashing in a panic, the subtle glow of blue grew ever brighter, gently illuminating the familiar set of hands currently digging into the flesh of his arms. White hair and a blue tail came next, drifting into his view as Wriothesley lifted his gaze.

Neuvillette stared him down, keeping a tight grip on him while his wide, slitted eyes were filled with concern.

Letting go of one of Wriothesley’s hands, he pointed to a seemingly random direction in the darkness and began to gently tug Wriothesley along.

And so, he allowed himself to be guided into the darkness, with only the shimmer of Neuvillette’s tail for light.

They swam through the murky waters — all the while, Wriothesley kept careful check of his air as his lungs began to tighten. Sure, he could outlast his entire crew in a breath holding competition, but he wasn’t quite sure how well he’d fare against a merman — especially given the fact he had lost some air in his panic.

Surely, just a little longer.

The tightness in his chest was starting to burn.

They kept swimming.

At this point, Wriothesley was more or less being dragged by Neuvillette across the longshore. He was too focused on not taking in a gulp of breath. What would happen if he did? Would Neuvillette bring him back to the surface and risk being accused of drowning their captain? Or, would he continue on, unaware of the fact that Wriothesley had inevitably lost to his innate bodily functions under the surface of the water?

Wriothesley grasped at Neuvillette with another hand, trying desperately to signal that he needed air — and soon.

Their eyes met, though Wriothesley could barely make out his features in the depths. The glow of his tail was only telling Wriothesley where Neuvillette was, and not much else beyond that. Wriothesley squeezed his grip on Neuvillette once before he pointed upwards. Cluelessly, Neuvillette’s head tilted for a moment. Then, his eyes drifted in the direction the pirate was pointing toward.

There was a new wave of dread that washed over him, this time, not so much concerning Neuvillette, but rather, a sense of ominous foreboding over his well being.

Gods, he was going to drown, wasn’t he?

Before he could make a desperate attempt to reach the surface, Neuvillette was already pulling him closer, steadying Wriothesley in the water. Their eyes met, and perhaps Wriothesley looked a little more desperate than he would’ve liked.

And then, Neuvillette leaned in to kiss him.

Soft lips — warmer than he would’ve expected — pressed against his own. It was tender, and honest to gods, Wriothesley’s heart almost jumped straight out of his chest. Though, he wouldn’t know if it was from the panic of drowning, or if it was just the feelings for Neuvillette that were forced to the forefront of his mind with a move like this.

If it were any other time, Wriothesley swore he would’ve been elated. He would’ve returned it a hundred, no, a thousand times over.

However, he was more than aware of what was happening as Neuvillette gently coaxed his lips apart. In the next moment, his lungs filled with air once more, a much needed refill to his tank running empty.

When the merman pulled away, Wriothesley offered the other a small smile.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined his first kiss with Neuvillette to have gone — but, he supposed some fantasies would simply stay that way, just a mere fantasy that he dreamed up in a giddy state. With Wriothesley giving Neuvillette one more nod for good measure, Neuvillette had begun to swim once more, navigating through the darkness.

In the darkness, Wriothesley didn’t exactly have a concept of how far they had gone, or where they had gone. It surely wasn’t very deep at all — else, he’d start feeling the pressure by now. Beneath his feet, he could occasionally feel the brush of sand — were they traveling along the longshore? Not deeper, not into land, but simply alongside it.

If he thought about it for too long, he’d forget about having to control his breath altogether.

In his head, he counted off every few seconds, timing his exhales as best he could. Even then, it took every bit of his focus to ignore the pressure creeping back into the cavity of his chest. Maybe this was the part where he was meant to despair at the fact he wasn’t born as a creature of the seas. Though, Wriothesley was far from the type to linger on things out of control.

Just as he was about to grab Neuvillette once more, to give him another pitiable look, for him to give another life-saving kiss — was Wriothesley pathetic or needy in this situation? — Wriothesley couldn’t tell, and he didn’t have to spend much longer trying to figure it out as they abruptly broke through the surface of the water.

Admittedly, the pirate didn’t give himself a chance to assess whether or not the space was safe to breathe in. The moment his head emerged from the depths and determined it was not another layer of water or liquid of some sort, he took a desperate breath, gasping through parted lips as relief filled his body.

“Thank—”

“Wriothesley?”

The voice startled him first of all but it also brought him right out of any dazed, oxygen-deprived lightheadedness that came from their long swim. His head turned to the direction of the voice before he spoke: “Sigewinne?”

There she was: blue hair, round face and red eyes — it was undoubtedly his missing Melusine surgeon.

“Sigewinne!” Wriothesley exclaimed before she could respond, surging forward in the dark sea cave to pull her into his arms tightly, “Archons, we found you. Oh, gods. You’re here.”

The relief in his voice was palpable. If he squeezed Sigewinne into his arms any tighter, he was sure he would’ve cracked a rib. Even then, he didn’t let her go. She was certainly thinner — and he didn’t even dare to think about what injuries she may have sustained, lest he wanted to be filled with an unreasonable amount of murderous intent.

“What happened?”

“I was just on my way out, really. The man who took me… he was very ill.”

“He stole you for your healing.”

Sigewinne made a quiet noise of affirmation as her small hands gripped Wriothesley’s shirt ever tighter, “It’s okay, Wriothesley. I’m alright. He’s gone.”

“If he’s gone, why are you coming out this way?”

“He sealed the exit of the cave on land. I had to work with what I had — which was this. He’s dead — I helped him go peacefully because I knew there was no point in healing him.”

Wriothesley knew what that meant. After so many years of traveling with Sigewinne, he knew she wasn’t always as kind and merciful as she seemed. Or, rather, her kindness often came in a roundabout manner that could almost seem cruel in the moment. She was simply gifted with the sense of foresight, he liked to argue.

Finally, when his heart was soothed, the ache of missing Sigewinne finally ebbing away, Wriothesley let her go. In turn, Sigewinne turned to the third person in their company. Between the Melusine and the merman, they shared a gaze — and perhaps, Wriothesley saw the makings of an instant connection in that single, split-second of their eyes meeting. Before the pirate could question it any further, though, she asked: “Who is this?”

“This is Neuvillette.”

“How did you find him?” Sigewinne asked — but for some reason, Wriothesley had an inkling the question wasn’t meant for him.

“He called for me. He wished my aid to find you,” Neuvillette said softly. His voice took on a gentleness that Wriothesley had not heard in his time with the merman. It seemed almost doting, as though Neuvillette had already made the instantaneous decision to take her into his care.

Perhaps, that in itself was Sigewinne’s true magic.

“You certainly found me. Thank you — both of you. Shall we get back to the ship? I think I could use some food… and maybe sunlight,” she laughed softly, keeping a hand on Wriothesley’s sleeve while she spoke, as if afraid the other would drift away from her otherwise. It was in the subtle things that Wriothesley could understand her fears.

Wriothesley only smiled wryly, choosing not to question her here, in a dark cave so close to what he suspected was a body who was put to eternal rest. They would have other opportunities to talk. Thus, he nodded and turned to the merman, “Let’s get back to the ship, Neuvillette.”

The journey back to safer waters felt a lot quicker in the company of Sigewinne. That said, they still had to swim through those caverns. By the time they had resurfaced in the sea beside the Meropide once more, Wriothesley was thinking about finding a small bounty to hunt on land once all this had ended. He was definitely sick of sea caves. Or, maybe he could go on a quaint hike for the treasure chest instead of sailing through treacherous oceans.

Or, more likely, he was just tired and cranky.

They had barely made it back to the boat in time — Jurieu was sweating buckets, pacing tracks onto the floorboard of his deck that Wriothesley was certain they would laugh about in a few months. When he caught sight of them resurfacing in the waters, a ladder was immediately thrown down for them.

Within minutes, they had turned the ship around and begun their journey back to the nearest port city for some much needed rest.

Admittedly, Wriothesley didn’t remember much of it. He remembered the crew gathering around Sigewinne to listen to what she had to say about the past week. He remembered putting her to rest once she had her fill of food and water. The rest of the time was spent sitting with Neuvillette.

Between them, it was quiet as opposed to their initial chatter on their journey here.

Where Neuvillette seemed to tire of conversation, Wriothesley, on the other hand, was struggling to find ways to bring up what had happened, and what will happen. Kissing is a form of affection, he wanted to tell Neuvillette. Don’t leave, was something else he wanted to tell him.

But, that was selfish.

“I feel I must apologize,” Neuvillette started abruptly after their ship had made its way out of the Morte Region. It was past sunset now, and the sky was filled with several hundreds of stars. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but Wriothesley figured he preferred it this way.

“Whatever for?”

“I accused you of using Sigewinne for your benefit when we had first started this journey. Yet, when I saw you two reunite — well, it’s safe to say that I was sorely mistaken.”

Wriothesley blinked slowly, and finally tore his eyes from the brilliant night sky above them to look at Neuvillette. He recognized the barely there furrow in his brow, an almost telltale sign of Neuvillette’s remorse, and jumped in to interrupt: “You don’t have to apologize. I can understand if you feel… protective over these things. After all, Sigewinne was taken by a man on his deathbed just for a chance at living once more. It’s only natural you felt as though I could’ve been doing the same.”

“Still… it was wrong of me to jump to such a conclusion when… you have been nothing but kind.”

“It’s alright. You were already doing me such a huge favor regardless. I still owe you a lot for helping with Sigewinne.”

“You don’t owe me anything. A deal is a deal — and now that it’s fulfilled, I suppose…” Neuvillette trailed off, blinking slowly. There was a short pause in their conversation as he turned his gaze to the sea once more, “I suppose I can go whenever I want.”
There it was. The thing he was dreading: the goodbye.

Wriothesley said nothing, as if expecting Neuvillette to simply clamber to the railing and dive into the ocean. Then, that would be the end of their short, but fateful encounter, and Wriothesley would spend the next few months, or years, nursing an irrevocable sense of yearning that he wasn’t so sure could ever quite be replaced.

Was Neuvillette waiting for him to say goodbye? Or, to give him some sort of formal release?

The issue was solely stemming from Wriothesley’s reluctance.

“You know, Neuvillette. The pressing of one’s lips to another is usually an act reserved for romantic partners for humans,” he spoke abruptly, suddenly finding the courage to talk about their underwater kiss. He supposed this was more of a roundabout transition into a farewell, right? He could hit two birds with one stone.

Strange, how that worked.

Neuvillette’s features shifted. For a moment, he swore something akin to that of a blush gently douse the scales of his cheeks in a ripple of scarlet before they return their normal shade of white and blue. Wriothesley’s gaze dipped down to his tail, watching it swish about shyly.

“I apologize… if it was out of line.”

“It wasn’t out of line. I needed oxygen, and well, you certainly delivered.”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I forget humans can’t see well underwater. And, they definitely can’t breathe underwater too — though, I guess I never figured out for how long. I suppose… I was lucky to have realized what you wanted before something bad had happened.

The confession threw Wriothesley off guard. He let out a laugh, something that bubbled deep out of his belly as he threw his head back, letting it ripple out of him in waves, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m—”

“Neuvillette.”

“Hm?”

Leaning in, Wriothesley cupped his cheek gently. Neuvillette’s face felt softer under his touch than he would’ve initially guessed. What with the smattering of scales along his skin, he supposed it would’ve felt much more coarse.

“Neuvillette. I like you. Even if you didn’t mean it that way, I’ll remember it, and you for a good long time even after you left.”

Another pause. The only thing Neuvillette responded with was a quiet, questioning hum as his head tilted ever so slightly, indicating his cluelessness. Archons — he was so cute. He had so much to say. He had the prettiest eyes. He always seemed to brighten up when Wriothesley told him about his adventures.

Wriothesley continued: “Thank you, for everything. Your job is complete. I’d love for you to stay, but I know you’d have no reason to. Please, just allow me this one last thing.”

Impulsivity surely led him to strange places. With the stars as his witness, Wriothesley leaned in to press their lips together. Rather than the clumsy, forceful manner that Neuvillette had chosen in order to pass oxygen into Wriothesley’s lungs, Wriothesley took his time with the way he kissed Neuvillette. Their lips danced together, something sweet, something that he could swear was some kind of love as Wriothesley deepened the kiss.

Neuvillette didn’t pull away — so, Wriothesley leaned in closer. He took all that he could, conveyed the feelings that he had experienced in the short period of time he had spent with Neuvillette, and finally, he provided Neuvillette with a human artifact so abstract and fickle that he wondered if the merman would ever understand it: his heart.

He was selfish. He was greedy. He was insatiable.

When Wriothesley pulled away, there was a dazed look in Neuvillette’s eyes. Wriothesley wondered if he could commit this to memory: the stars that danced in Neuvillette’s iridescent irises, far brighter than the galaxy above them.

“A kiss. To seal the deal, and for you to remember me by. I’ll go to bed now. Farewell, Neuvillette,” he whispered softly against Neuvillette’s parted lips before he dropped his hands from the merman’s cheeks.

Gathering himself to his feet, Wriothesley began to walk to his private chambers.His mind was swirling with possibilities. Would Neuvillette stop him from walking away? Would Neuvillette ask him a question?

Rather than what he was hoping for, however, Wriothesley heard shuffling along the floorboards behind him. The wood creaked under the weight of the merman, and then — splash.

Good, he thought. Then, he wouldn’t be tempted to turn around again. A part of him knew very well that that was not a good farewell in the least, but it was the only way that he could selfishly implant a memory for the merman to have. One last memory to last a lifetime.

Though, Wriothesley didn’t know if it was a memory to last for his lifetime, or for Neuvillette’s.

When he woke the next morning, Neuvillette was long gone. That final kiss that he stole still lingered like buzzing electricity on his lips — and that would have to be enough.

The Meropide’s next voyage would be long.

Sailing to the far east in Inazuma to seek out a rumored samurai pirate’s buried bounty wasn’t what he was anticipating when he was just dreading the idea of sea caves a week ago, but well, he was a pirate. There was no better adventure than one without some glorious rewards to be reaped.

When he had walked out of his chambers one morning, Wriothesley found that his usual greetings to his crew was only returned with coy looks.

Did he get that last night?

Before he could haul them up and ask them what was going on, Wriothesley’s eyes instead caught sight of a sharp blue.

Wriothesley’s eyes widened, stopping dead in his tracks as his brain struggled to process what he was seeing.

“Neuvillette?”

“Good morning, Wriothesley,” Neuvillette smiled at him, his iridescent eyes crinkling in the corners as his tail swished. Beside Neuvillette, Sigewinne was seated on a barrel as she swung her legs, looking out to the horizon without much care.

His feet brought him forward — one clunky step after the other, still half-frozen in shock. He crossed the length of his deck, taking shaky steps up the stairs before he fell to his knees beside Neuvillette, still in awe at the sight of the merman on his boat once more. Quietly, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I hope you don’t mind if I hitch a ride every now and then, Wriothesley.”

“Why?”

“You see I'm quite enamored with the tales that the captain of this ship tells me. And, based on my experience, I’ve learned he’s not only a good person but a good kisser on top of that.”

Before Wriothesley could process what the other was saying, Neuvillette had cupped Wriothesley’s cheeks in his hands, leaning in to press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. Despite the ghost of a touch between their lips, Wriothesley found his heart pounding once more, sending his gut into a swirl of giddiness.

“So, do I have permission to sail with you, captain?”

“Yes,” and without wasting another moment, Wriothesley sealed this agreement with a kiss of his own.