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The ruckus going on off by the nearest whale fell into the background; angry, frantic buzzing mingled with dregs of familiar magic barely breached Siren’s haggard senses. A vexatious power that tingled like dreadful pinpricks at his numb fingertips, its cloying song a whisper in his revenant blood. It gave Siren life, bones and tissue painstakingly stitched together, dragging him back from the precipice of death. With it, he was awarded the strength to protect those he admired. In exchange, it was supplying Siren with a cantankerous headache. But there was no rest for the wicked, not yet at least, especially those whittling at borrowed time.
A paralysis goaded his weary muscles the likes of which the shark had never experienced. Even under the rigorous training of his master, Siren couldn’t ever recall feeling this worn-out. Yet he welcomed the dreary sensations, letting them excavate his marrow like a retreating tide. For, at his core, he felt free in such a way Siren couldn’t possibly describe. The unfamiliar heartbeat from the past several weeks finally felt less like an echo in his ribs. Something here to stay.
Perhaps that was too presumptuous. Because it wasn’t his pulse. It still belonged to another. Like he was wearing armor not meant for him. Siren reveled in it all the same, the weary warble of life for once adored rather than regarded as something he didn’t deserve. Because it theoretically represented the remaining life in the one he loved. It came with a new sense of responsibility, but of this sort, Siren felt honored to carry. That might change come morning. Pending that, he cherished the euphoria that spread like an inferno in his gills.
Normally, his recurring pessimism would eagerly drag him down to the seabed. But, for the interim, Siren held his head high. Or, at the very least, didn’t feel like he was being crushed under the entrenching waters of the Sanctuary. Not when the culprits of tonight’s heinous events were retained by one of the witches.
Siren honestly didn’t know which to thank. He assumed Mono as she wasn’t present by the time his own wild magic retreated. All three more than deserved his utmost gratitude, Siren was certain. For now, his focus lay elsewhere. Namely on the precious bundle of golden scales he delicately cradled to his newly established heart. Though, Siren supposed, even that wasn’t entirely true.
”Did you two get confused? You were supposed to connect to the hearts in your own body.”
”Huh?”
”Nevermind… It can wait.”
Miss Nethimir’s words flitted across his flickering memory, gently teasing them for getting befuddled on their assignment. Siren was fine with the way she deflected elaborating for the time being. If Miss Nethimir wasn’t alarmed, then neither was he. She knew more about these volatile receptacles than Siren did despite having been carrying one for a little while. His latest scar was proof of that. Even now Siren found it strange to think magic hummed in his veins despite having deftly wielded it against his better judgment.
It felt like a dream; like he’d only imagined it after being told the story of someone else losing their temper in a protective maelstrom. But Siren knew it was he that attacked the flyfin. The languishness of his muscles and warm strum in his chest were testament to that undeniable fact. The steady rhythm comforted him as he gathered himself from the floor with a stroke of his powerful tail.
His every movement, down to how forcefully Siren exhaled through his gills, was slow and meticulous so as to not trouble the one who had saved his life. The one who selflessly salvaged him from the depths of his twisted emotions. The one who gave Siren a multitude of reasons to live. The one who had begged him to keep trying, to stay with him despite his perceived unworthiness. The one who Siren hated to see so battered, bruised, and beat. The one who, if what Miss Nethimir said was true, now carried Siren’s devoted heart.
The romantic symbology wasn’t lost on the smitten shark. He’d long given Kappa his heart. Now it was much more literal. Siren didn’t know what it meant for them in the long run. But, for now, he chose not to dwell on the uncertainty. Not when the very vessel was in dire need of secluded rest.
The thought filled Siren with a fervor he’d long recognized was a result of his feelings for the exhausted and exploited Beacon. Being physically close like this made him feel whole. It couldn’t solely have been a result of Kappa housing the shark’s reinstituted heart. For Siren had always felt like he could take on the world as long as the sweet brunet was by his side. Having something intangible, something supernatural, giving their robust bond new shape wasn’t going to change his feelings. If anything, it gave him another reason keep going. Though it did leave Siren with more questions than answers. They could wait until Kappa was feeling better of course.
Besides, a keen, as fragile as a bubble, was a much more pressing matter. The pleading gurgle was weak yet urgent, accompanied with an equally frail pressure forming at the side of the shark’s throat.
He knew it to be Kappa attempting to hide, his eyes lodged against Siren’s tri-colored skin with ailing strength. He must hate having others see him like this; utterly spent and recovering from emotional fragility. But, after the conversation they’d just had, Siren was certain that it wasn’t so much the shark (or even the witches) Kappa was attempting to take cover from.
So, rather than shush the listless brunet, Siren crooned a sympathetic rumble rooted in his breast. One brimming with tenderness and reverence meant only for the Beacon’s ears. It wasn’t essentially singing as no precise words were formed, but Kappa had taken such delight in the melodies that Siren hoped it would bring him at least a little bit of joy in the present. It meandered aimlessly; a compassionate lilt with no destination.
He settled his cheek amongst Kappa’s disheveled russet locks in a protective display. It was enough to at least get him to cease resisting Miss Mucku. The elder Octalia was as steady as she was courteous in trying to pull Kappa’s left arm away from being tightly tucked against the brunet’s fluttering sternum.
It was only then Siren realized they’d transitioned at some point back to a hollow within the Great Tree. This wasn’t the nesting quarters he was familiar with, indicating they’d likely settled in the witches’ accommodations instead. Premeditated or not, Siren was appreciative. It meant his father’s knife was nowhere in sight.
After witnessing Kappa cowering in the face of the blade, Siren intended on disposing of it. That thing was the reason Kappa had isolated himself. All the more now that Siren knew why. It had to go. Nothing was worth keeping around if it tormented his beloved, emotionally or otherwise. He never wanted to see that look of terror in Kappa’s eyes again, especially not directed at him.
It was just the three of them, meaning Miss Nethimir stayed behind for some reason. The observation hardly dawned before Siren was distracted by the reason Miss Mucku was so fixated on Kappa’s aforementioned limb.
Marks. Bite marks. Angry, festering fissures gouged into brown skin.
Siren was all too familiar with the pattern, having intentionally sported comparable impressions multiple times. But the angle was wrong. Rather than carved into the outer side of his forearm, the blotchy indentations were towards Kappa. They were shallow enough any bleeding had long stopped up but their placement left little in the way of denial for Siren.
Kappa had deliberately bit himself.
Hard .
The memory of blood clogged Siren’s nostrils, making the shark grimace to the point the dangerous points of his front teeth peaked beneath pale lips in a mute snarl. Fangs that had only recently stopped tasting like putrid iron.
It was painfully clear Kappa had grown desperate. Desperate enough for him to break his promise, “to never bleed ever again.” Desperate enough to hurt himself despite the abuse already being rained upon his neglected body. Desperate enough to beseech for Siren despite the nature of they’re last parting. Despite knowing how this particular smell made his boyfriend panic even. The lesson learned for them both was just how much it frightened Siren. And how far the shark was willing to go to shield his beloved.
The crime was clear in Siren’s mind. The flyfin, Fizz in particular, were trying to force Kappa to awaken the whales. Kappa must have boldly defied them. The result was the trio beating the snot out of the petite brunet, probably in the hopes of coercing Kappa to comply in exchange for the pain to stop. Pain that would just be replaced with the whales potentially sucking the very life out of him.
All for what? To return to their “home?” The ends didn’t justify the means, but for Fizz they evidently did. Kappa was disposable in the flyfin’s mind; a tool for him to use. Siren had snapped and later apologized for accusing Finley of such. He sort of regretted that now. It was clear Kappa was nothing more than his title to the siblings.
The extent of their abuse would come into light later. The notion dismayed Siren. Would he lose his temper again? He’d lately lamented feeling less in control of himself, but this sort of rage was truly not like the bygone prince. The fact that he was capable of such violence disturbed him. Siren wasn’t prone to such brutality.
However, delayed though he may have been, Kappa never shied away from Siren nor looked at the shark with fear regarding his behavior. Not that Siren could recall anyway. He’d dove in after his boyfriend as his unstable magic consumed him in contempt of his warning to the contrary. Despite the chaos he’d wrought, Kappa knew Siren would never hurt him. His actions reinforced his pleading words for Siren to not leave him if absolutely nothing else.
The memories made Siren’s heart ache , punctuated with a miserable whimper the likes of which reverberated from his inner child he was long overdue to acknowledge. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, willing the fear of the unknown away as best he could on his own. Siren needed to focus on helping Kappa recover. He clung to the wrongfully subjugated Beacon, reminding himself that he’d reached Kappa before something irreversible transpired. Now it was up to him and the witches to keep it that way. Siren would make sure none of the flyfin so much as looked at Kappa again!
Of all the times for Kappa to meet the locals of the Kelp Forest, Siren was at least grateful it wasn’t until after being reunited with the shark and befriending the trio of compassionate witches. He didn’t want to imagine how differently tonight could have gone were the brunet left to continue fending for himself.
In retrospect, Siren loathed having come here, even if it doubtlessly was the only lead they had. The intrusive thoughts were unending nonetheless.
Dread bubbled in Siren’s gut as he recalled their argument the other day. That Siren feared things were only going to get worse if they remained in the Sanctuary. Sometimes he detested being right. But it wasn’t Kappa’s fault. Couldn’t be further from the truth. The flyfin were to blame. Their fates were out of Siren’s hands. He’d let Fizz live. A decision he didn’t regret and, in the back of his troubled mind, he hoped he wouldn’t come to.
In the meantime, Siren needed to give his full attention to Kappa. The Beacon was understandably exhausted after his ordeal. He’d been struck across the face several times if the bruises were any indication. Realistically, there would be a matching coil forming around Kappa’s throat given the atrocious chokehold the flyfin had used to overpower the brunet. Going off of Fizz’s final haunting words, Kappa must have felt terrified of the torment to come before Siren put an end to his blatant tyranny. Even then, the Beacon seemed unaware the shark was there initially despite having purposely summoned Siren.
And yet, despite everything Fizz and his siblings had put Kappa through, he’d been immeasurably brave this evening. He didn’t give into their outrageous demands, indicating Kappa had finally learned how to tell someone, “No.” The Beacon had also revealed a part of his past to Siren he was terrified of anyone knowing, becoming vulnerable in such a way that encouraged him to do the same. Arguably the most difficult of all was begging the teen to remain with him, revealing the thing Kappa feared most loud and clear; losing Siren.
Bearing this in mind, Siren continued to hum low in his throat, relishing in the way his larynx convulsed against Kappa’s forehead. It meant the brunet could feel the way the shark called for him, imploring him to relax with a reliable tune. It worked. Kappa’s fist unclenched while his elbow loosened, consenting for Miss Mucku to bring his self-inflicted wound into clear view.
Whatever the Octalia thought on the matter, she kept to herself. She mournfully tutted her nickname for the brunet with a soft click of her tongue before setting to work. Miss Mucku drew forth inky wisps to wrap around the injury. In a matter of seconds it was gone but its memory would live on within Siren. The nauseating pricks of paranoia set-in, leading him to secretly hope this wouldn’t earn Kappa another series of scars.
As Miss Mucku released Kappa’s wrist, letting the Beacon retract his limb protectively to his chest, Siren’s jaw locked. He shouldn’t have let the brunet leave in such a distraught state. He should have gone after him in spite of his insistence to be alone. He should have pushed for Miss Nethimir to also go look for Kappa rather than console Siren.
He should have, he should have, he should have ! More repentance to seek for the staggering mountain of things Siren had failed to do. At least, he thought bitterly to himself, another body hadn’t been added to the pile of corpses left in the wake of his selfish life.
’ No. No, don’t think like that, Siren! Kappa wouldn’t want you to think like that.’
A whimper, sharp as it was weak, pierced Siren’s frayed ear. The shark gasped, his left gills partially hindered by matted hair, as his hands fell open. He realized only then his grip around Kappa had tightened, likely hurting the sensitive brunet in the wake of his mental distress.
Miss Mucku chuffed at him but withheld any reprimand, instead shifting her priority to what she could make out of Kappa’s neck between his hunched shoulders. Siren hadn’t gotten a good look at his blossoming contusions. Which was probably a good thing judging by the tight pinch of Miss Mucku’s brow coupled with the hard line her mouth was set in.
Twin imprints pressed around Kappa’s esophagus. Impressions that would fit perfectly around Fizz’s thumbs.
Rather than fret over what the Octalia saw, Siren began tracing mindless patterns into the round of Kappa’s shoulder in apology. He lifted his head enough to plant a chaste kiss beyond the brunet’s temple, pulling back just enough to murmur, ”We’ve got you,” into Kappa’s hair at a whisper. Siren refrained from gently rocking solely to not make Miss Mucku’s task more complicated. Instead he opted to rest his cheek back atop Kappa’s head as his eyes drifted closed.
Siren sensed rather than saw the witch’s magic setting to work. The substance needled his nerves. It wasn’t the same pull as the time Miss Nethimir had tested to see if they’d bonded with their hearts before setting out for the Kelp Forest. No. This felt more like recognition than trying to tear the oxygen from Siren’s ribs. Akin to how he naturally calmed in Kappa’s presence compared to the likes of the Sluggi. It felt no different than the mannerisms with which Mono used to communicate with her fellow witches. Siren was still learning the nuances of her symbols, but he was getting better at interpreting them.
The trio settled into abiding silence as Miss Mucku labored over her healing arts. Siren took comfort in her efforts, remembering Miss Nethimir’s explanation as to how their spells worked shortly after waking in the crab’s den. If Miss Mucku felt her magic would ease Kappa’s agony, then his injuries weren’t lethal. Just because Siren couldn’t smell any blood didn’t mean the threat to his boyfriend’s life had safely passed. He could be bleeding internally or hiding his pain in such a way Siren couldn’t see.
The stillness of the water was only broken by crumbling mewls and Siren’s own attempts to calm the damaged brunet. At some point he’d reached for Kappa’s left hand, coaxing his fingers open in order to press his open palm over Siren’s chest. Over Kappa's beating heart.
He could have sworn he heard Kappa titter against his clavicle, but the sound was so dainty Siren could have just as easily imagined it. His brilliant tail flimsily curled around Siren’s, his lithe weight leaning so heavily into the shark that he was certain Kappa had passed out while settled on his lap.
All the while, Siren reached for the brunet verbally, filling the void left in Miss Mucku’s diligence with the affectionate strum of the shark’s husky trill.
”You’re doing great, Kappa.”
”You’re safe now, Kappa.”
”I love you, Kappa.” By the surface, that one felt wonderful to say out loud!
Why he felt the need to repeatedly speak the Beacon’s name, Siren did not know. Perhaps it was more for his own peace of mind knowing he’d reached his boyfriend on time. To remind himself of who it is he held so close, as if afraid to lose them in the nonexistent current.
Because Siren nearly had.
It felt like ages before Miss Mucku leaned back, wiping at her brow with a sense of pride. ”Some rest and the little witch should be good as new,” she heartily announced at a tempered pitch. It was then Siren breathed out as the tension finally fled his shoulders. ”Thank you, Miss Mucku,” he praised with a wan chuckle. The elder Octalia shook her head, her large hand reaching out to gently pat Siren on his exposed right shoulder. ”Think nothing of it!” Her hand withdrew as Miss Mucku rose from the floor. ”Now then, let's get you two settled in for the night.”
Siren wasn’t given time to question her bizarre offer before he felt her palm pressing between his shoulder blades. She coaxed the shark back, easing him onto his left side amongst the soft moss. He followed her steady guidance, only permitting her to adjust Kappa because Miss Mucku never once tried to remove Siren’s arms from around the brunet. Kappa, for his part, didn’t fight her either. He made himself right at home back under the shark’s jaw once he was facing him, Kappa’s rejuvenated cheek propped on Siren’s bicep.
His grip was fervent yet cautious; eager to protectively tuck the sore brunet in beneath his ribs but anxious that such force risked agitating any lingering inflammation. Kappa’s button nose met the dip of Siren’s collarbone, his left hand falling away in favor of being pulled against the shark’s chest. Previously, Kappa had been lazily tracing Siren’s scar, his motions increasingly more sluggish and imprecise, giving away his mounting lethargy.
Which made sense given the thin streams of light filtering through the overhead canopy. Kappa wasn’t a morning person. Siren wagered it must have been peeking into the wee hours of dawn.
Arp seemed to manifest out of the moss behind Kappa’s noggin. The pink creature reclined himself against his caregiver’s head, gurgling his pleasure with yipping trills while tucking his fanned tail beneath his chin.
Behind him, Siren felt Miss Mucku settle in, her rotund side pressed neatly into the space between his shoulder blades. Before long her snores filled the quaint space, one of her lower arms twirling around the shark’s dorsal fin with a loose grip. Siren had long grown used to the invasive procedure though it was nice to still get to snuggle against Kappa in spite of the added company.
Their numbers only kept growing, ticking up to five when Miss Nethimir came to bed behind Kappa. She lay back-to-back with the Beacon, mirroring her elder by gripping the end of the brunet’s shining tail with one of her lower arms. Siren almost missed Mono’s head against his tail but figured it was safe to assume the mute witch was spending the evening with her own romantic fantasies for a change. It made Siren faintly smirk before he too got situated, his right hand tenderly stroking up and down Kappa’s side.
Now that he was aware of the brunet’s tragic history, Siren kept his touch a light brush across impossibly smooth scales. The warmth steadily generated between them was comforting. He raptly listened to Kappa’s rhythmic breaths, vigilant for any hitches or shudders that might indicate a sensitive area. Siren wanted to respect the Beacon’s inner turmoil, particularly pertaining to his perspective of his outward appearance after the way he’d been treated, both now and back then.
That being said, Siren also desired to help Kappa feel at ease in his own skin. To be reassured the shark wasn’t going to avoid cuddling, holding, or even kissing the brunet over a perceived notion of fragility after previous transgressions. Kappa was stronger than he realized. But the brunet’s body, his scales , belonged to him and him alone. If Kappa wanted to cover up or loathed attention being drawn to them, Siren would support him. If the Beacon didn’t want parts of him touched, for any reason, Siren would back off immediately.
For the brunet’s appearance isn’t what drew the shark to him. It didn’t mean Siren didn’t find Kappa physically attractive; just that if the brunet covered himself to suit his comfort level, the shark would still love him all the same. And he wanted - needed - Kappa to understand that.
Thankfully, rather than whine or shove Siren away, Kappa found the means to burrow deeper into Siren’s throat, creating a happy ripple in the water.
Siren knew the exact moment Kappa drifted off from months of listening intently. His exhales grew increasingly more shallow from his gills while his inhales formed the faintest of squeaks through his nose. Siren had only recently started hearing them once the pair slept separate from the other witches. At first, Siren had assumed the sound came from Arp. When he learned the true source, it took everything the shark had not to start laughing at just how endearingly cute his boyfriend was. The fact he could hear it at all over Miss Mucku’s cacophony in the present was miraculous.
As things were though, Siren got as comfortable as possible, knowing full well the all-call for work would be coming in the next hour or so. After the evening Kappa had, the shark wholly intended on slacking off to remain by his side even if the Sluggi grew disgruntled for his decision.
Just before he too fell asleep, Siren crooned one last measure for his boyfriend, forming the words in his throat but not parting his lips to give them proper shape.
’Your heart is your masterpiece.’
’And I’ll keep it safe.’