Chapter Text
The storm is intense. Waves batter against the boat, tossing it about like a lion swiping its prey. Sailors hurry around Bronco in a desperate bid to tighten the sails and steer the vessel through the waves.
“Knight! We need to pull the nets up!” Rook calls from his place at the helm. Determined yet stoic, even in the face of mother nature’s wrath. He’s the very image of the noble captain steering the ship through the storm, while Bronco’s given the menial task of hauling up some old fishing nets. It’s deeply aggravating, but unfortunately there’s no time to stew in his jealousy when their lives hang in the balance.
The wind sends Bronco’s chequered bandana fluttering as he crosses the ship’s treacherously slippery deck. He leans over the edge to haul up the net as a bolt of lightning shines through the night. Dark, treacherous waves surround them, but there’s something else, something he first thinks is sea foam. But then the pieces click into place and he sees it for what it truly is. A pale figure caught in the net’s embrace.
“Man overboard!” Bronco shouts. He doesn’t wait for the others to join him as he drags the tangled net up, cursing as the person inside is bashed against the ship’s hull. They’re barely moving.
Another flash of lightning strikes. The figure winces, but what catches Bronco’s eyes isn’t the barely conscious man’s pain. Instead of legs, he has a long, elegant tail. It’s a brilliant white, dappled with stripes of orange and red.
Simeon.
It’s been nearly two decades since they last met, but Bronco could never forget the siren. They were friends until his own childish stupidity had damned the mythical being. He shakes off the memories as another man joins him, and together they haul Simeon onto the ship’s deck. He’s bruised and battered, but he’s breathing.
Bronco unsheathes his cutlass and slices through the net while the crew desperately try to get the ship under control. Disbelieving voices pierce through the storm. A mermaid? A siren? The two are hard to distinguish. But, regardless of his nature, Simeon’s already capturing people’s imaginations.
“Hey? Simeon, can you hear me?” Bronco asks as Simeon looks at him through hazy eyes. At first, the siren seems confused. But then recognition dawns. Disdain washes across his features, only to be replaced with a pained wince.
“...Bronco?”
He must hate him. A voice at the back of his mind protests that he isn’t responsible for his father’s actions, but Bronco shoves it aside. Now’s not the time to dwell on the past. He needs to make sure Simeon’s going to survive the night.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he says almost apologetically, despite the warm memories they once shared. A childhood by the ocean, playing games and swapping stories of the land and sea. He shakes his head and focuses on examining Simeon’s form. Dark, angry bruises mar his skin, and his left arm looks dislocated. Maybe he should let him go before anyone takes too much interest in him, but would Simeon be safe in the depths of the ocean?
Simeon winces as he sits up. He clutches his side and lets out another shuddering gasp.
“Imbecile! You nearly broke my ribs hauling me up!”
“You could’ve died if I left you down there!” Bronco points out. Simeon glares at him, the sweetness of his youth barely recognisable beneath the pain. “Look, let’s focus on fixing you up. It might be dangerous for you to be here, but…”
But what fate would befall Simeon if he faced the ocean's depths in such a state? The storm has finally begun to abate, and a small crowd has formed around them in the gloom. Bronco shoots them a glare, a wordless warning not to get any closer. But, despite his defiance, he hears footsteps behind him as a calloused palm rests upon his shoulder. Rook.
“Our boat really did a number on you, stranger. It’s not much of an apology, but you can rest in my cabin until you’re ready to leave,” Rook gently suggests.
“No chance, Simeon’s staying with me. I’m not letting you cart him off-”
“Excuse me?” Simeon cuts in, despite the pain. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“Yeah, but don’t you want to stay with someone you can…” Trust. The word dies in Bronco’s throat. The siren flicks his tail dismissively, his eyes darting from one man to the other as he weighs up a choice between the devil he knows and the devil he doesn’t. Finally, he nods towards Rook.
“You’re the captain, aren’t you? …You’ll let me go after I’ve healed, right?” Simeon’s tone shifts to something sweet and innocent.
“Of course. We’re sailors, not slavers. Please, consider yourself a guest upon our ship,” Rook says.
Simeon tilts his head thoughtfully, before giving him a nod.
“Thank you, Captain. You know, I’ve never met a human I could trust before. But maybe you’ll be the first.”
He’s not even being given a chance to make amends. Rook’s brow creases when he notices Bronco’s wounded expression, laced with indignation that the loathed captain’s the one to usurp him.
“Am I missing something here?” Rook asks.
“I just think it’s better if Simeon’s with someone he knows, yeah?”
“Knew. Past tense,” Simeon interjects. His voice wavers as he says it, an innocent façade despite the poison in his words.
“We were still friends! Simeon, listen. We both know there are people out there who’d do anything to get their hands on sirens and merfolk. Rook…” Rook’s infuriating. He’s beloved by almost the entire crew, winning their hearts despite his firm demeanour. He represents a barricade that Bronco can’t cross. Everything he does shines a light on his own imperfections, his own rashness and unpopularity among the others. But, ultimately, he’s a man of his word. “...Forget Rook. Give me a chance, and you’ll see I can be your knight.”
Simeon purses his lips, but doesn’t speak. Finally, he shakes his head.
“...It’s not my place to stand between old acquaintances,” Rook says, breaking the silence. “But I don’t want to go against an injured guest’s wishes. Simeon, my cabin is more spacious. As Captain, I’ve decided it’s in everyone’s best interests for you to stay there tonight.”
“Seriously?!” Bronco exclaims. A mutiny can’t come soon enough, but unfortunately Bronco knows none of the crew would be on his side if he tried to gain the upper hand against Rook.
“We’ll discuss this more in private, Knight. For now, please take Simeon to my cabin while I look for the ship’s doctor.”
Reluctantly, Bronco kneels down to scoop Simeon up in his arms. The siren’s body is light and nimble, but there’s a power beneath his beaten limbs. The tip of Simeon’s tail twitches irritably, like a disgruntled cat, but he doesn’t resist. There are a few spines pressed flat against it, reminiscent of lionfish barbs. Sirens have more than just their songs to protect themselves.
They’re surrounded by stares and curious glances as Bronco carries Simeon below deck to Rook’s quarters. His mind races with ways to convince Simeon that he’d be safer with him, but perhaps time is the only way to heal old wounds.
They met when they were mere children. Two innocent souls playing in the cove near the village of Gull’s Landing. Bronco spent most of his time by the sea, his dad was too busy with his artwork to pay him much attention. He tried so many times to win his father’s approval, but it always fell on deaf ears.
Simeon’s father was also distant, although apparently he had warned the young siren not to get too close to humans. But Simeon trusted Bronco. They would swim together in the shallow pools, playfully dunking each other in the water. Bronco remembers pretending to be a knight with a driftwood sword while Simeon played the role of a vicious sea witch, come to curse the sleepy villagers for their wrongdoings.
Despite the harshness of home, Bronco’s days had been full of light thanks to Simeon. That was, until he made the mistake of telling his father about him. He had naively thought Frost would be intrigued enough to take an interest in his life. He might even have been impressed.
But instead, his dad had been sceptical. He called Bronco a liar and beat him for spreading falsehoods. However, his curiosity had been piqued, and the next day he secretly followed Bronco down to the rocky cove where he witnessed the two children playing along the shore.
That evening the change in Frost’s demeanour was sudden and unexpected. He praised him for making a friend and asked if he could meet the young siren. Bronco had been too young to see how hollow and insincere it all was. A few days later he could barely hold back his excitement as he led his father down to the coastline, chattering all the while about the joyful memories he shared with Simeon. The siren had been shy at first, but that day his dad had seemed kind enough to win him over.
Frost suggested they fish together and catch a meal to celebrate his son finally making a friend. Bronco didn’t have much luck, but Simeon playfully chased down his quarry with ease. Meanwhile, Frost made a campfire of driftwood to roast the fish upon. Together they cooked the fish and served it with a blend of fresh herbs. It smelled delicious, and Bronco remembers how quickly he and Simeon devoured their food, a move that would be their pivotal mistake.
Exhaustion quickly took hold. It was unlike anything Bronco had felt before, sleep tugging at him more insistently than the moon beckons the tide. Simeon had succumbed to sleep first, and Bronco still remembers his dad wrapping him in a fishing net to be carted off. He tried to protest, but his words were weak. He tried to stand up, but his legs betrayed him.
When he came too, he was in bed. And Simeon was nowhere to be seen.
He begged his dad to tell him what happened. At first Frost was stoic, but finally he relented, if only to shut Bronco up. Simeon had been sold to a traveling exhibition of mythical creatures that had been looking for new performers. His dad had no idea where the child ended up, nor did he care.
That night Bronco stole some of the gold before heading out into the wilderness to find his friend. He was equipped with nothing but a change of clothes and some hastily packed food.
It had been a futile mission. The gold didn’t last long and eventually he found work at the docks as a cabin boy. Going home was out of the question, Bronco had experienced his father’s wrath too many times before.
The years went by, and Bronco grew used to traveling from ship to ship as he made a living. There were worse fates than traveling the seas, but he never stopped mourning his friend’s fate.
Bronco kicks open the door to Rook’s spacious but plain cabin. The only decoration is the portrait on the wall of his family, each one with perfectly painted smiles. To one side a window overlooks the deceptively calm sea. Carefully, Bronco places Simeon on the captain’s bed. Once he’s been examined maybe he can be moved to the large wooden bathtub.
“Simeon?” he asks.
“What?” The siren warily replies.
“There’s not enough words to say how sorry I am. I had no idea what that bastard had in store.”
“...I’m in too much pain to deal with you right now,” Simeon mutters as he closes his eyes and leans back against the pillows. Bronco debates asking how he escaped captivity, but he knows he probably won’t get any answers.
“My dad’s finally dead, if that means anything. He died of a heart attack a few years back,” Bronco says. He heard of his fate in passing when the ship docked at Gull’s Landing. Bronco never bothered visiting his grave. “Not that I was there to see it. I ran away to look for you.”
“...You gave up a comfy life to hunt for the siren you betrayed?”
“Betrayed? Simeon, I had no idea what he had in store! And it was hardly a life of comfort, the guy had serious anger issues!”
Life is cruel. The traveling exhibition treated Simeon like property, until his saviour freed him. A mysterious man called Kanis, an assassin by nature, but he had taken pity on the young siren. They retreated to the marshlands together until destiny forced them on separate paths.
He had dreamed of revenge. He could have found Frost and drowned him beneath the waves. But now he’s gone, and all that’s left is his son. A man who allegedly tried to find him.
“Maybe those anger issues triggered the heart attack. Regardless, his death was far too quick. You wouldn’t believe the indignities I’ve suffered!” Simeon exclaims. He’s in too much pain to hide his malice.
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Look, tell me who he sold you to and I’ll hunt each one of them down. Vigilante justice is in order!” Bronco snarls.
Simeon frowns. Bronco’s rage is intense, the light of the oil lamp flickering in his grey eyes. A human would be a useful asset in his bid for revenge.
There’s a knock at the door and, a moment later, the Captain enters. He’s accompanied by an unfamiliar man who introduces himself as the ship’s doctor. Simeon watches suspiciously as he rifles through a bag of concoctions and bandages. He’s already decided he won’t ingest any medicine he’s given.
The doctor isn’t much for conversation, which Simeon is grateful for. He isn’t sure if he should pretend to be a meek, vulnerable damsel in distress who poses no threat to anyone. Would it be wiser to bear his teeth and show he’s not to be treated lightly? The doctor applies a salve to his body before carefully popping his dislocated arm back into place. It’s still painful, but it’s not the same agonising burn as before. His ribs feel like they’ve been kicked several times, but the salve takes the edge off it.
With his job done, the doctor takes his leave and the captain locks the door shut behind him.
“How’re you feeling?” Bronco asks as he awkwardly re-joins him by the bed. He’s grown into a tall, imposing figure, but he seems to be trying to make himself look non threatening for Simeon’s sake. Simeon shakes his head.
“Like I’ve been bowled over by a dozen whales.”
“Bedrest should help,” the captain says as he joins them. “I never introduced myself earlier. My name’s Bastian Rook, and I must offer my sincere apologies for your injuries.”
“Um. Thank you, Bastian,” Simeon replies. Maybe it’s best to play it coy around the captain.
“It’s the least I can do. But I should warn you, before we left shore there were rumours of Lord Wang issuing a decree against sirens after one of his boats sank. Regrettably, some of my crew had relatives onboard that ship. You’re not safe here.”
“...D-do you ever feel like your life is a case of stumbling from one disaster to the next?” Simeon asks. “No? Just me then. Bastian, I, um, I can barely move, let alone swim. I don’t want to rely on a human, but if I get sent into the ocean, I’ll be shark bait!”
“That’s where Bronco comes into play. There’s a port a day’s sailing from here which is outside of Lord Wang’s jurisdiction. If we pool our wages together, me and Bronco can cover the cost of a small boat. The two of you can sail together until you’re healed.”
“...You’d go that far to help a stranger?” There must be some kind of trick, but Simeon can’t see what it is. He doesn’t like the idea of being stuck with Bronco of all people, but he’s running out of options and he’d rather they stay on the move.
“It’s my duty to help those lost at sea, whoever they may be. Bronco, we’ll switch cabins tonight. I’ll be up late checking the ship after the storm, but I don’t want to leave Simeon unguarded.”
“...Got it. Uh, thanks. I owe you one,” Bronco sounds begrudgingly grateful.
“You don’t, I’m just doing my duty. Simeon, would you prefer to rest in the bathtub? I can send a trusted sailor down to fill it for you.”
“That’d be nice. I don’t want to dry out.” Bastian is far too considerate. It’s suspicious, but Kanis had also been surprisingly kind.
“I’ll get that seen to, then. Take care, both of you.”
Once the sailor leaves, Bronco barricades the door shut with a wooden chair. He lets out a deep sigh before sitting on the edge of the bed, kneading his brow, while Simeon lounges in the wooden bathtub. His tail drapes over the edge and the water is blissfully cool against his aching body.
“So, the two of us, traveling together. I never thought I’d see the day!” Bronco smiles.
“You sound happy.”
“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t want us to meet like this, and I know you probably hate my guts, but at least you’re safe! We can focus on you healing, maybe rebuild a few bridges, and then see what the future holds.”
Simeon closes his eyes. Whenever he thinks of Bronco, sparks of anger swirl within him. A bitter desire for revenge has fuelled him for years, but now he’s here it’s harder to grasp that passion. Despite everything, he knows deep down that Bronco almost certainly didn’t know of his father’s sinister plan. He was an unwitting bystander in it all. It doesn’t dull his rage, but it soothes his need for immediate retaliation.
“You make it sound so idyllic.”
“Maybe it could be. And don’t forget what I said earlier. I’m gonna track down the bastards he sold you to.”
“Excelsius isn’t an easy person to find. There’s rumours he made a pact with a devil, you know? He’s a man of fire and brimstone.”
“Excelsius… Well, a name’s as good a start as any,” Bronco mutters as he cracks his knuckles. Simeon leans further back into the tub as he lets the water wash over him. Before being caught in the ship’s net he was traveling to a nearby coral reef to meet a young mermaid named Regina. He stumbled upon her a year ago, and the two quickly bonded over their love of training sea creatures. She's probably worried about him, but there's not much he can do.
Simeon desperately tries to fight off sleep. He might be safe in Rook’s cabin, but a sense of unease fills him and every time he's on the precipice of unconsciousness he jolts himself awake. At the very least he wants to wait until Bronco's passed out. But exhaustion takes hold, and the sound of the waves lapping against the ship brings an uneasy sense of peace. When he finally drifts off, he's vaguely aware of Bronco dimming the oil lamp and murmuring a quiet good night.
