Work Text:
The brisk wind whistled around Gregory, stirring fluffy bangs across his small, pudgy face. He paid it no mind, busy playing with sand, trying and failing to make a castle that looked like anything but a messy mound. With him sat his father, Michael, who smiled and occasionally ran a hand through his son’s hair or helped him adjust part of his structure. All the while, sunset approached, bathing the sky in blending warm colors, which glittered off the lapping waves before them.
Gregory paused in his mission, pouting up at Michael. “Is dinner ready yet?”
Chuckling, Michael looked behind him at their little home, nestled right between the beach and forest. His wife Charlie was busily preparing food while they played out here, and he could only imagine dinner was nowhere near ready. “No, she didn’t start that long ago, silly goose.”
Gregory huffed, mumbling a sassy remark Michael couldn’t quite catch, before returning to his castle building. The man raised a brow, then ruffled Gregory’s hair, saying, “What was that?”
“Uh, nothing!” He grinned innocently, showing off the few teeth he had. After all, he was a mere five years old. Already a menace, though.
“Hmm…” Michael side eyed him with a teasing, suspicious smile. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” Leaning forward, he rested his chin on a wrist, and let his eyes follow the grains of rolling sand as Gregory pushed and prodded them into a vague tower-like shape. “So, how is Castle Gregory coming along?”
“Great, obviously,” Gregory replied. “But it’s basically done, so I dunno what to do.” He puffed his cheeks out, once again pouting at his dad. “You’re sure dinner isn’t ready?”
“She would have called us, if it were.” Michael laughed heartily as he scooped up Gregory. Ignoring the way he grumped, then giggled and kicked his feet (due to Michael tickling his sides ever so briefly), he transferred the young boy to his lap. “I think Castle Gregory’s turned out great, though. There anything else you could build around it while we wait?”
Gregory settled, then hummed and tapped his chin. “I dunno. Can’t really think of nothing.”
“Anything.” Michael booped his nose.
The grammar correction made him cross his arms. “Anything! Whatever!”
“Oi! Is that more attitude?” Michael couldn’t help laughing as he spoke. When Gregory just poked his tongue out, he sighed and said, “Alright, alright, will the castle master be satisfied and not so sassy, if I tell him a story?”
“Story?” Immediately, Gregory’s orange-brown eyes lit like candles. “Like, the super awesome stories you always tell me for bedtime?”
“Yes, exactly like those.” Michael settled back in the sand better, adjusting Gregory accordingly. They both watched the waves, while the younger of the two made a tiny, curious sound, undoubtedly pondering what sort of adventure he wanted told that night.
“Oh, I know!” He glittered up at his dad. “Tell me that one about the pirate and mermaid again!”
“Hm?” The suggestion made Michael’s stomach briefly clench. Laughing cautiously, he rubbed his neck. “I’ve told you that one before?”
“Mhm! Though, keep out the yucky love stuff this time. “ Gregory shook his head. “I just like the fights and actual interesting mermaid stuff.”
His laughter grew a touch. “Take out the yucky love stuff, huh? You know that’s a pretty big part of the story.”
Whining, Gregory sank farther into his father’s arms and lap. “Just tell the story and don’t focus on it!”
“What’s the magic word?” He spread into a grin.
Though he pouted, Gregory mumbled a put-out, “Please?”
“Gladly.” Michael focused again on the sea, each foamy crest and splash bringing him back. A sigh left his chest, and he shut his eyes, then reopened them. “There once was a pirate: a fierce, determined pirate who had worked his way up the ranks to be his father’s first mate.”
“But his papa wasn’t very nice, right?” said Gregory.
“That’s right.” Now Michael’s chest squeezed. He held Gregory a bit tighter as he continued, “Truthfully, despite how glamorous the life of a pirate might seem, it’s full of filth, killing, and hardship. This particular pirate never wanted that, but he felt he had to, due to his father's influence. All the gold in the world couldn’t make up for all the fights he hated, or the rough, dirtied life of ruffians he had to deal with day in and day out.”
“What sort of things did he fight?” Gregory blinked up at him curiously.
“Oh, all sorts of things.” Michael relaxed with an easygoing smile. “It was more grueling than fairy tales might tell you, but besides the people, he had to fight many strange creatures out there on the sea.”
“Like sea monsters?” Gregory squirmed excitedly.
“Yes, yes, like them.”
“Krakens?”
“One, though it was smaller than you might think.”
“Sirens?”
“They did lure some of the crew once.”
“Did he kill any?”
“He did slay one that almost lured his foolish father.”
“That’s funny.” Gregory giggled. “Anything else?”
“Well, as you know…” began Michael, raising a finger, “there is a big difference between a siren and a mermaid.”
“One is all evil and creepy, right?”
“That’s right.” Michael tickled Gregory’s sides as he exclaimed, “Sirens have haunting voices, snake-like eyes, dangerous sharp teeth, and after their false beauty fades, they have scaley, slimy skin and knotted claws!”
Giving peels of giggles, he wriggled and fought against the tickles. Michael delighted in the adorable sounds, then let up and gave him mercy as he gasped for breath, getting out, “Ew! So creepy!”
“Very.” Michael settled him and tucked back locks of his rumpled hair. “But mermaids are far different. In fact, this pirate’s crew tried to hunt them, just as they would a siren. However, not due to their nature. Rather, because it’s said a mermaid’s hair and tail are very profitable.”
“Mermaids are actually pretty and not evil, right?” said Gregory.
“That’s right.” Over his shoulder Michael looked, eyes lingering on the window of their shack. Through it he could see Charlie working on dinner, her long, chocolate brown hair falling around her face in waves. Her lips were parted and moving faintly; eyes soft, and he could tell she was singing, though he could not hear her beautiful voice from his distance. “They hardly break the surface, but when they do, it’s to help those lost at sea with their singing, or to simply visit a human who might need company.”
“But you said the pirates hunt them, right?”
“Yes, unfortunately, they do.”
“So what happened? Tell me what happened, but not with the love stuff!”
Michael snorted then said, “The pirate’s father finally caught sight of a mermaid, one who was aiding a ship they had just recently plundered. He hunted her; tried to make his son go after her specifically. He wanted his son to prove himself, and take down this mermaid for profit.”
“Then a big fight happened!” Gregory threw his arms up.
“Sort of.” Michael chuckled. “Our protagonist made his way down to jagged rocks in unsteady water, while the rest of his crew once again attacked the ship of survivors.” He made motions with his hand, mimicking the treacherous path through waves and stone. Gregory’s smaller hand raised and joined, familiar with this tale. “The pirate jumped and leapt through the rocks, hunting the mermaid with his sharp, glistening sword! She dodged him through the water, all the while still helping those aboard!” He laughed faintly. “She put up more of a fight than he anticipated; even bit him on the arm. Turns out, a mermaid might have less sharp teeth than their evil counterpart, the sirens. But they still have fangs.”
“Like awesome sea vampires.” Gregory flashed a grin, showing off his own single, slightly sharp tooth.
“One way of looking at it.” He booped the boy’s nose. “During this fight though, something changed in the pirate, something that had always been lurking beneath the surface. The mermaid spoke to him; she saw this weakness, and implored the more caring side he’d been forced to bury deep.” He pointed upward and across the ocean, as if the scene were right there—two ships, one attacking, the other far more damaged and full of innocent people fending against their attackers. Around them, rocks and splashing waves; a pirate soon pinned against a rock, sword lost, and his very being locked in place by the mermaid’s gentle yet piercing eyes.
“She made him face what he was doing: helping these horrid criminals hunt innocent people, and on top of that, beings like herself who only wanted to aid.” He clenched a fist, making a slashing motion. “He was frozen for a while, caught in place and disarmed. But then he saw his father at the edge of his ship, staring down at him, imploring him with every piece of manipulation he had done since childhood…and the pirate found his sword again, and tried to slash the mermaid!”
“Like this!” Gregory mimicked the slice.
“Like that.” Michael shut his eyes, letting his arm drop. “But she dodged, and when he rose to deliver another blow…he couldn’t. He saw true terror on her face for once, and then focused on the people his crew were fighting…saw their fear too, and…” He raised his arm again, his other holding Gregory closer. “He fought back against them; he and the mermaid joined forces to fight and scare off the pirates, all the while under the judging, watchful eye of the cruel pirate captain.”
“And he did something to the son.” Gregory nodded solemnly.
“He did.” Exhaling, Michael trailed a hand down his face, where a jagged scar was left across, then down his chest and stomach. “The innocent ship gained enough speed to leave, and all the pirates who survived remained aboard their own ship, and could not catch up. Our protagonist was aboard as well, and he watched the mermaid smile at him then dive beneath the waves, free from him and his crew. But his father…” His head shook. “He punished his son. Cruelly. Attacked him; had his crew beat upon him, then cut him with his own sword across his face and torso…many times.”
“Blood everywhere!” Gregory giggled deviously and flung his hands forward.
“Oh dear.” Michael laughed, briefly eased from the bad memory, before stroking his son's hair and continuing, “Then they threw him overboard, onto the very rocks he’d fought that mermaid on. He was abandoned once and for all, a failure to his father, but a hero to the people who got away.” He pressed a kiss to Gregory’s head, then let his lips linger there as he murmured, “There, he resigned himself to die.”
“But the mermaid saved him,” Gregory piped up.
“Hey, are you the one telling the story?” Michael spread into a smile.
“Yes, because you’re about to make it gross and romantic.” He stuck his tongue out.
“Maybe I am.” Michael poked it, causing the boy to make a disgusted sound. “Because while he lay there, bleeding and dying, barely above the waves…he heard a beautiful voice singing. That very mermaid had returned, and even as he blacked out, thinking he would die…she helped and saved him.” He raised his head, looking across the water. “The last thing he knew before unconsciousness was the feeling of her lips against his: a kiss. A mermaid’s kiss can help a man breathe under water, and when he awoke alive after all, he was in an underwater world of coral and colorful fish, being cared for by the mermaid.”
“Ick.” Gregory made a face.
“Hey, but she saved him at least. It wasn’t a kiss for no reason.”
“But I know kisses for nor reason followed! Gross!”
Michael laughed once more. “Very true. Over the months, the two got closer, forging a friendship that deepened to love. They lived life in both the ocean and the shore; the pirate found a life slowly but surely away from his crimes, gradually healing from what his father did, and falling madly in love with the-”
“Enough, ew! Enough!” Gregory covered his ears, and his father laughed harder. “The fighting and pirate stuff is over! I don’t need the rest!”
“Alright, alright.” He raised a hand, then wrapped Gregory closer to give him an extra squeeze. He giggled and nuzzled into the hug. “And they both happily ever after, while the pirates were left in their misery, undoubtedly being drowned by sirens or something.”
“Yay!” Gregory cheered, then perked up at a call from behind.
“Greggy, Mikey!” They turned their heads, and a few paces away stood Charlie. The brisk beach wind blew her hair, and she beamed like the sun at her family as she said, “Dinner’s ready.”
“Finally!” Gregory pushed his way from Michael’s grasp, then beelined for the house.
Charlie patted his head as he passed, and once he’d disappeared inside, walked to Michael who rose and brushed himself off. “You told him that story again, didn’t you?” she said, laying a hand on his chest.
He automatically tucked an arm around her, shrugging with a lopsided smile. “It’s a good story. Maybe one day he can learn who exactly that pirate and mermaid were.”
She chuckled and moved closer, briefly nuzzling their noses together, before breathing out fondly, “Maybe one day.”
Both arms enclosed her, and they simply embraced for a moment, Michael burying his face in her hair and shoulder. He breathed in her familiar scent, then whispered softer than the sea breeze, “You know that pirate would have been completely lost without the mermaid.”
Charlie laughed, the sound like tinkling bells. The charming, almost devious sound matched the sparkle in her eyes as she pulled back to look at him, her grin showing off just a hint of fangs. “Trust me,” she said with a quick peck to his lips, “she knows.”