Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The large, leather suitcase hit the cushiony sand with a quiet “poomf!” Medic wiped the sweat from his brow with a sigh, relieved that the long walk up from the winding dunes was finally over. Just at the edge of the bay’s cusp was a charming beach house, far enough away from town to give him plenty of privacy but close enough to not need a car to get anywhere.

It was absolutely dazzling.

Palm trees swayed gently in the hot, salt-tinted breeze—bringing with it the call of gulls and the tide gushing over the brink. The bright sands were bejeweled with sparkling shells, gleaming like polished pearls beneath the evening sky. Looking out onto the red and orange horizon, Medic could see the slow-chugging boats making their long journey to the mainland of Australia.

He was impressed by none of it.

Of all the places he could have been contract-bound to, why did it have to be here?

The man would’ve much preferred being assigned to his homeland of Germany, giving him some time to perhaps visit the old trotting-grounds of his youth or savor a pint of famous lager, but that ended up not working out for him. Yes, while that was the original destination planned for him during the long ceasefire, The Administrator had a sudden change of mind last-minute.

See, normally she couldn’t be bothered at all with what the mercenaries did during their ceasefires. She would oftentimes just unleash them back on their homelands or wherever they wanted to go and just focus on her own business matters for a while, but something unexpected had come up. One of her many hired “eyes and ears” from around the world had mentioned in passing that there was quite a bit of uneasiness stirring in a small island off of Australia. The residents seemed like the superstitious variety, blaming the sudden influx of extreme weather and unfortunate happenings on supernatural forces rather than the ongoing climate crisis. The island went by the name of “Botany Bay”, an idyllic land mainly inhabited by Irish immigrants who brought the folklore and mythology from their country with them.

”They’re convinced there’s monsters,” the informant told her, shaking his head with wide eyes.

The Administrator stamped out her cigarette, unamused by the rather childish change of subject.

”And why would I care about something like that?” She muttered, flicking her lighter beneath a fresh smoke.

”I think I’ve seen one,” The man said, his voice shaking slightly. He didn’t dare challenge The Administrator, but he was desperate for someone to believe him.

”They’ve got magic. Weird properties. Everyone says they’ve seen them. Ships have gone missing. People have gone missing. There’s just something not right about that place,” he pleaded.

The man hesitantly reached into his back pocket, placing a crumpled up newspaper article onto The Administrator’s desk with quivering fingers.

”Please,” he whispered, “Just look.”

The Administrator raised an eyebrow, her lip curling upward with disgust as she eyed the piece of paper in front of her. Rolling her eyes, she slid the paper into her hands and crossed one leg over the other as she read its contents.

Slowly, her features began to change. Her finger stopped clicking impatiently against the arm of her chair and her posture went rigid. When she was finished, she dropped the newspaper back onto the table and closed her eyes, deep in thought. When they opened again, a wicked smile spread across her face and she nodded to the informant still standing expectedly in front of her.

”I’m very happy you’ve brought this to my attention. This is good work,” she said, still nodding to herself as she formulated her next move.

The man only nodded firmly in return, not wanting to show just how happy he was that his boss had not only acknowledged his work, but believed in him.

The Administrator’s cunning eyes flickered up to him before she stood, suddenly growing rather serious as she delivered her official order.

”Don’t let this get out to the press. The last thing we need is cheap tourists interfering with my investigation. News of these creatures are not to leave Botany Bay, do you understand?” A sharp fingernail clicked against the cover of the news clipping.

”Yes ma’am!” The man said, his back straightening.

”Very good. For your sake, may you not disappoint me,” She said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand as she sat down once more in her chair.

The man couldn’t leave fast enough, growing uncomfortable under his boss’ gaze as he scurried out of the room. Left alone in the silence, The Administrator exhaled another stream of cigarette smoke. Her fingers grazed over the small red button on her armrest, and it buzzed faintly. A voice echoed from the small speaker within.

”Ma’am?” It asked.

”Pauling,” The Administrator hissed, “I need you to fetch me The Medic. I’m changing his assignment.”

”Yes ma’am.”

Click.

And just like that, Germany was no longer in the cards for our poor, poor Medic.

He tore his longing gaze from the evening sky and picked his bag off the sand, dusting it off with his hand before unlocking the sun-bleached door to his temporary ocean-side residence. It was spacious, with a full kitchen, a luxurious bathroom and bedroom, and a modest living room. Plus, nothing could beat the view of the water lapping at the coast just an arm’s length away. Medic left his stuff at the door, making his way as instructed to the small end table nestled against the hallway connecting the bedroom and living room. On the table was a simple rotary phone and a slip of paper with a number written on it.

The Administrator picked up on the third ring.

”I take it you’ve settled in?” She asked, not really caring that much either way.

”Ja,” he replied, masking his displeasure as tiredness.

“Good. You’ll find the file detailing your assignment on the bed. You’ve brought your equipment as instructed, yes?”

Medic glanced subconsciously towards the suitcase still lying by the door. As well as his toiletries, the bag was full of the same razor-sharp tools that he had come to love.

”Ja,” he said again.

”Alright then. I’ll leave the rest to you. Your new civilian clothes are already organized in the closet and dresser in the bedroom. Your doves should be finished shipping over by tomorrow.”

Medic brightened slightly at that, hoping to himself that they were alright and managing the trip without problems. He insisted on taking his precious pets with him, but they had to be mailed over separately.

“Ah, right,” Medic said, “Goodbye then.”

Click.

The Medic trailed listlessly up to the window, staring out at the churning waves with his arms held primly behind his back.

It was going to be a long summer indeed.

Chapter Text

The lamp resting on the bedside table flickered with warm light when Medic finally found the strength to lug his heavy bag to the bedroom and turn on the lights. He rubbed his tired eyes from beneath his glasses, vainly wishing he wasn’t so jet-lagged. His eyes skimmed over to the beige folder lying on top of the pressed, silken pillows. He almost didn’t want to read it, but he had to admit that he was genuinely curious about what could’ve been so important that his entire summer was switched around. Holding it carefully in his hands, Medic tilted the folder under the reading light so he could peruse the files within.

Top Secret

Grade Level B Clearance Required

Official Seal of The Administrator

For [The Medic]’s Eyes Only

A rather fascinating slew of information is being passed around by word-of-mouth amongst the residents of Botany Bay. A strange, mythological species of creatures have been discovered by the townsfolk within the many coves and beaches in the area.

The species has been described as:

-“Mermaid”

-“Siren”

-“Sea Witch”

-“Scylla”

-“Muldjewangk”

-“Adaro”

Medic tilted his head, unsure if he was reading this correctly. Had The Administrator really sent him on a wild goose chase for some myth? He didn’t want to believe it was true, but the sheer ridiculous nature of the notion prompted him to read further.

We’ve suppressed the media’s coverage of this, so news has not left the island. There’s been photographic proof of their existence. The evidence has been destroyed for the sake of secrecy, but know that this task is to be taken seriously. If these creatures have the abilities Botany Bay’s residents described, we may be happening upon a venture of quite a large scale.

Medic’s eyes narrowed skeptically. Photographic proof? Was he to believe that?

You may be wondering why we’ve assigned you to the task. Well, your mission is as follows:

-Prove or disprove beyond reasonable doubt the existence of these creatures.

-If you can find one of these creatures, study and dissect it.

-Take detailed notes of the find.

-Reap a large sum of the rewards.

Medic’s eyes froze on the last line. He cocked an eyebrow, feeling his usual personality return like a burning warmth in his chest.

Interesting. Very, very interesting.

Not even Medic could deny that he was a man with a price. The Administrator had stated in the past that she would only use words like “large sum of the rewards” if she really meant a large sum. It would seem that Medic’s little “vacation” would be worth his while. Plus, he couldn’t deny at first that he was fascinated by that air of mystery surrounding the village. Why had they all gotten together and decided to make up such an obvious fabrication like this?

As Medic got ready for bed and retired for the night, he suddenly felt like his heart was pounding far too fast. Not out of fear, but out of excitement. In his mind, as he mulled it over, the painstakingly curious part of him so deeply imbedded into every fiber of his altered heart began to wonder…

Just what if? What if there really was something new to discover here?

He turned over in his hazy sleep, stirring as he considered the delicious thought with a most treacherous grin.

If there was, in fact, some kind of “magical being” hidden just out of sight, then he couldn’t wait to find one and tear it apart. He wanted to watch it bleed out and lie cold beneath his own hands. Magic or not, he was the decided deity of all life and death, and these things the townspeople were seeing would be just as complacent to his rules as anything else.

Chapter Text

For the first time in quite a while, Medic simply woke up the next morning when his body chose to. There was no grating alarm, no yelling, no cursing, no anything. He just…woke up. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, but that was just weird to him. He wasn’t tired at all. As a matter of fact, Medic decided to settle for two cups of coffee instead of his usual eleven. For as tempting as it was to just pout some more, Medic was feeling much too chipper. He donned his civilian clothes—a dressy button up t-shirt and slacks—and decided to do some cleaning. He dusted off the hidden cobwebs around the thresholds and swept the floors. An hour had passed and everything was neat and well-organized. All of the pre-stocked groceries were in their designated places, and Medic was satisfied. For a little bit.

With how hectic work could be, Medic simply had a hard time clearing space in his schedule to give his laboratory a good scrub, which was a shame because he was quite a neat-freak. He was always looking for something to do when his hands weren’t busy cutting a friend or foe open. Now, being off the battlefield and in a relatively small space, there was simply nothing left to clean.

Medic’s eyebrows furrowed and he knitted his fingers together, rocking on his heels while the hands on the clock moved slow as hell. He sighed, silently fighting to pull himself together. I mean, come on. He’s a genius. He can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants to. Of course he knows how to relax in his spare time, everyone knows how to relax. Right?

An exasperated sigh left his lips as he bounced his leg up and down, having decided to just sit on the comfortable chair in the living room.

What was taking so long? Wasn’t he supposed to feel “relaxed” by now? He drummed his fingers against the chair as it quickly became apparent that resting would be hard for him to figure out. He was used to only doing that when he bordered between exhaustion and death.

He was about bored to death by then, though.

Medic glanced down at his watch, throwing his hands up in the air with defeat when it told him that only a minute and a half had passed. Medic stood quickly from the recliner, pacing back and forth as his mind boiled over. He had to do something. He just had to do something. So, back and forth he went. There was a glass sliding door in the living room—the back door—and Medic could see the shimmer of the ocean outside. It caught his eye, making him stop pacing for a good second before he slowly pivoted and stood in front of it.

Medic absently twiddled his thumbs behind his back as he seriously considered going outside for a moment. It would be so easy after all. He would just have to open the door, walk not even fifteen feet, and voila.

But no, he couldn’t seriously be considering that. Are you kidding?

Medic seethed, pacing even more furiously across the carpet and shaking his head. It wasn’t even up for debate. There is no such thing as magical water people and he can’t be convinced otherwise. Medic’s pacing slowed once more. Hesitantly, he glanced towards the kitchen table, where a notebook and pencil innocently rested. He bit his lip, studying them for a moment before finally approaching. He picked up the notepad and pencil and looked out of the door.

Sure, they aren’t real. Of course not. But The Administrator had specifically instructed him to prove without a doubt the nonexistence of these so-called creatures, and he couldn’t do that without going outside.

Thoroughly needing to burn off some energy, Medic resigned himself to going outside with the pencil and paper by telling himself that he was just going for a walk. Nothing more, nothing less.

The door clicked shut behind him, the gentle breeze and warm sunlight kissing his face as he gawked at the view from where he was standing. The beach was private, so there were no other people for as far as the eye could see. Besides, with the exception of the fishermen and sailors, the townsfolk had been steering clear from the water as much as possible as of late. Medic carried himself soundlessly to the very edge of the pristine waters, where a large collection of jagged rocks formed a barrier of sorts across the whole strip of the beach. Glassy water lapped and gurgled gently against each formation, draining into the delicate tide pools, where a whole ecosystem of starfish and urchins made their homes. Medic knelt in front of one, feeling suddenly at peace as he reached down to feel the water. It was cool, but not cold. The summer sun had made the perfect conditions for a good swim.

Medic shook his head to himself. He fought his thoughts and told himself that he was just fine where he was. He didn’t want to swim because that would be like admitting that The Administrator was right and he was wrong. Medic pulled his hand from the water and flicked the droplets onto the sand. He stood again and shielded his eyes from the bright sun as he scanned the furthest reaches of the waves. There were no boats to be seen that morning, giving him a clear view of quite literally nothing. Upon looking further up, though, Medic was entranced for a moment by the large white clouds that drifted slowly overhead. Gulls flapped their wings as they soared in gusts upwards, painting the sky with their image.

A small splash made his heart jump, making him tear his eyes away from the heavens as he searched for the source of the noise. The water was still void, with not even a ripple in the surface. Whatever made that sound had disappeared. Medic narrowed his eyes, not giving up so easily. Slowly, he brought himself to the ground. He rested his hands on his legs, fiddling with the pencil and paper in his grasp. The wind made each sheet flutter slightly.

Medic opened the cover to the first empty page, letting the pencil tip ghost across the pad as he made a rough sketch of the sky. He wasn’t sure why he was so taken by it, he had just started drawing because he was bored, but soon he found himself intrenched by every small detail. He lost himself, but he was oddly okay with it. Every detail on the rocks and the waves were precise, and he even began to whistle a song to himself. It was a simple lullaby, one that he had learned as a child back in Germany. Rare moments of calm like this often brought the calm music with them.

The drawing was beautiful in its simplicity, even he had to admit that. But he didn’t need it to be perfect to be proud of it, it just had to be his.

Medic closed his eyes, a small smile etching across his features as he inhaled the misty air. His hands fell to his sides, loosely gripping the objects within them as he soaked in the morning light.

Then the wind began to pick up. Medic remembered when the strong wind tussled his neat hair that the villagers had spoken of strange weather. He remembered it a bit too late, though. When Medic stood up to take his leave, the sky had other ideas. The wind beat harshly against the trees, creating a deep whistle as raindrops began to pour from up above. Medic raised his hands to protect his glasses from the onslaught, and the wind tore the notebook right out of his grasp. Medic reached out to grab it, but it sailed away over the gale and into the troubled waters. He would’ve been upset about the waste of perfectly good paper if he wasn’t so concerned about just getting inside with his body intact.

Medic pulled away from the water with a gasp, realizing that the tide was itching to pull him under the dark current. He retreated up the sand bank, resting his hand on the door handle before everything came to a sudden and complete halt. Medic paused, his hand frozen on the handle, and he looked up.

The ocean was calm.

The sky was blue again.

The air was dead quiet, the rain no longer falling and the wind no longer piercing. Medic’s mouth hung agape and his hand absently slipped off of the door. How could such extreme weather start and stop in an instant? Slowly, he pulled his spectacles off of his face. He blinked quickly, bringing them down to his shirt as he gently wiped the droplets from the lenses.

Unbeknownst to The Medic, a sharp, small object tore through the air and struck him square in-between the shoulder blades. Medic jumped, yelping more out of surprise than pain as a jolt of shock crawled up his spine. In his terror, the glasses in his hands were dropped and skidded across the ground. He stooped down, quickly feeling for them and returning them to his face. By some great miracle, they were unscratched.

The Medic whipped around, his nerves set alight as he searched for what had hit him. His eyes dropped to the ground.

There, between his feet, was the notebook. The very same notebook that had been thrown into the ocean like a leaf in a whirlpool. Medic’s jaw clicked shut and he crouched down, reaching out a hand as if to make sure it was real. It was. His hands brushed over the cover and he picked it up, turning to the first page. Then, he flipped through all the pages, his intrigue growing by the second.

The paper was dry.

He had watched it clear the waves, and yet, the pages were dry.

Slowly, Medic’s desperate eyes returned to the water.

He could have sworn that he saw something dart just behind the rock formation, and that about scared the sense right out of him. Without another thought, the door was thrown open and Medic launched inside, slamming the flimsy sheet of glass behind him.

Minutes later, Medic sat on a stool at the kitchen table. The notebook was open in front of him, and the pencil was gripped tightly in his hand. He was looking—no—staring at the first page. There were no traces of water stains or runny pencil marks anywhere. With fingers shaking from excitement, Medic flipped to the next page. He chewed his pencil gently as he pondered what to write. Finally, the words just seemed to fall out.

I may have seen something today, but I am unsure.

It returned my notebook to me, unharmed, though perhaps I was imagining things.

Medic stared at the words he had written before shaking his head to himself. He was skeptical, yes, but he hadn’t just imagined all of that. Quickly, he erased a bit. Sweeping the eraser shavings off, he kept writing.

I may have seen something today.

It returned my notebook to me, unharmed.

An extremely powerful storm started and stopped within ~15–35 seconds.

I will be returning to the beach later on for more intel, once I have regrouped with my beloved doves. They should be here any minute now.

Medic’s pencil fell onto the page. He read the words over and over until they sounded right. He nodded to himself, satisfied. He almost didn’t want to, but the urge became too much. He returned to the living room and stared out of the glass door, towards the waves.

He couldn’t see anything, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was looking at him, too.

Chapter Text

The sand was soft beneath Medic’s legs, and he watched with unwavering focus on the waves as they rolled softly ashore. The evening sky was laced with twinkling stars, swirling at a sleepy pace into nightfall. Medic was anticipating the break he would allow himself to have in a few minutes, when he would walk to town and perhaps grab a beer at the small pub. It was the only one on the island, but it was enough for the rather modest population of people. Besides, he wasn’t planning on going there just for the beer. He wanted information, too, and there would perhaps be no better people to ask than those who have been living through the strange events themselves. For now, though, Medic was dead set on watching the water for a while longer. If the thing that threw his notebook at him was in fact real, he wanted to see if it would come again.

Medic’s fingers tightened slightly on the sturdy grip of his saw, reassuring himself that he would be ready for the creature’s next visit. The hypothetical creature, that is.

That seemed to bring Medic a moment of clarity, and he stared down at the saw in his hands with a bit of shame. He dropped it on the sand with a heavy sigh, burying his head into his hands. There he went again, falling into his work habits. He was on vacation for Pete’s sake, and he wouldn’t allow himself to waste any more time watching the stupid shore. The damn thing was empty, and he felt foolish and ashamed that he let himself be convinced by the senseless prattle of a superstitious fairytale. The wind was strong when the storm erupted, so it most likely just blew the notebook back at him. He must’ve been mistaken when he saw it fall into the water. Feeling quite satisfied with the idea of drinking himself silly, Medic stood up from his spot on the beach. He grabbed his saw and tossed it through the open window of his house, feeling too extra to just walk in and set it down.

He shoved his hands into his shorts pockets, eager to get a move on so he could end the night as quickly as possible. Medic whistled a tune to himself, the same one he had earlier, because it had been getting stuck in his head more often as of late. The sand was warm, but he opted for sandals instead of going barefoot because he thought that was kind of gross. He didn’t want to guess how many germs and diseases were probably running rampant throughout the town.

Medic turned his back on the ocean, walking past his house and up the hill that led to a dirt path. It would take him directly into town, though a bicycle would probably make the trip easier. Medic didn’t mind the walk, though, because it gave him time to convince himself that he hadn’t seen the notebook fall into the water. That’d be ridiculous, of course. It had simply landed on a patch of rock or sand that was out of his field of vision, hitting him in the back when a rather strong gust of wind blew towards the house. Medic chewed on his lip, rewinding the memory until he questioned if he had even brought a notebook outside in the first place.

The beautiful cobblestone street leading up through the town was a steep incline, as the whole village was situated dead-center on a ginormous hill, surrounded on all sides by the monstrous sea. About ninety-percent of the citizens who make their living in Botany Bay are in the ocean trade. Some are fishermen, some are sailors, and others make a fortune crafting boats and seashell jewelry. Tourists never come to an island such as this, so there are really no crowds or hustle. There aren’t any shady tourist traps or inauthentic restaurants just looking to make a quick buck off of some sorry sucker and their family. Rather, the people of Botany Bay have a lot of pride in their own unique culture. There was an air of friendliness and excitement to be had just by roaming down the street. They could spot an outsider from a mile away, but they were always kind and willing to help in any way they could. Some residents would even go out of their way to leave a good impression on visitors, offering a spare room of their abode or supplies just out of the goodness of their hearts.

That’s changed lately, though. When people had started going missing, the welcoming presence did, too. The windows and doors were shut and locked by a certain time of night, enforced by a mandatory curfew that prevented people of all ages from falling victim to “An Gadaí” as the people called it. Yes, they locked themselves up tightly in their shelters for fear that someone would snatch them from their very beds and pull them down, down, down into a watery grave. Or rather, something.

The street lamps cast an eerie orange light against the road as Medic walked beneath them. The silence was tangible in the air, and his footfalls echoed dreadfully between the gaps of the tightly-squished granite buildings. In the center of “Main Street”, if you could call it that, was the bar. The lights and people within indicated that the place was still open, so he strolled inside with what composure he could muster.

Heads turned when he stepped in, greeted by the smell of sea-water soaked uniforms and wood polish. The bar top gleamed in the light, situated in front of rows and rows of stools. Medic sat down at the nearest one, raising a hand for the barkeep and ordering a draft beer. He sipped from the mug apprehensively, not moving his gaze from right in front of him. He could feel the stares of the other patrons, and they did not feel friendly.

“Ye lost, fella?” A red-faced man asked from somewhere to Medic’s left, his speech heavily hindered by the sweet trance of alcohol.

“No, just stopping in for a drink,” Medic replied, waving as non-confrontationally as possible.

“And what’re you doin’ here for?” A guy with a scraggly beard asked. He reeked of fish and rubber boots.

“If ye wanted a drink, didn’t it occur to ye that we’re surrounded by water?”

A few of the customers laughed at that, some of the more drunken ones nearly falling out of their seats as their senses alluded them. Medic vainly wished that he had his friends there with him. He felt that he was above bar fights, but if one were to start, he felt better knowing that there were eight other bloodthirsty killers on his side.

“I’m here because I heard you’ve got trouble,” Medic replied simply. He turned to face the people, who were now quite interested in what he had to say.

“I’m an investigative journalist. What I’m trying to do is get to the bottom of these disappearances. Assuming you don’t give me any trouble, I’ll walk away with my story and you kind folks will be able to rest easy again when justice is served.”

The patrons’ eyes widened, some scoffing at his words while others seemed genuinely intrigued by them. The bearded man was among the latter.

“I d’nno if that’s a good idea. Ye outsider types always think there’s some sort of…logical explanation and all that,”

He took a sip from his drink, shaking his head as if he had thought of something rather sad.

“What ye don’t understand is that there isn’t one. Not here. There’s some kind of creature in the water and they’re raising hell. Our boats are goin’ missing. The fish are goin’ missing. Our neighbors are goin’ missing for Christ’s sake. Don’t you understand that?” The man said, his haggard eyes bearing into Medic’s.

“I do,” Medic found himself saying. It surprised even himself, but he quickly recovered to save face.

“I believe you,” Medic lied, putting a hand on his heart for emphasis, “These sirens, mermaids, monsters, whatever you call them, I believe you. Once I can prove to anyone that will listen that these creatures exist, we will find a way to eradicate these creatures for good.”

Medic gave a sympathetic look to the bearded man, shaking his head.

“You deserve to mourn the loss of your friends and loved ones in peace, not having to worry about if your family is in danger by so much as going outside.”

The patrons hung on his every word, nodding in agreement as his words confirmed and validated what they were all feeling. The bearded man was quiet for a moment before he nodded, too.

“Aye. That’s about right,” he said, taking a swig of his drink, “And do ye know what these things look like?”

Medic shook his head.

“I was hoping to ask some of you locals that. Seeing as you’re the only ones who know first hand,” Medic resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the last part. Of course they were the only ones who had seen it, because they had obviously made it up. It was textbook mass hysteria.

“They’ve got shiny skin,” a man sitting in a booth said.

Medic turned, nodding as he “took note” of the description.

“Aye, but it’s not because of the water,” said another man, “it’s cause they’ve got scales like mirrors. It dazzles ye like keys in front of a wean.”

Medic found that oddly specific, but nodded regardless.

“They’ve got teeth like fuckin’ knives,” a fisherman said, stretching his hands apart to indicate how long they were.

“And lips as cold as a corpse,” another spat.

That almost made Medic laugh. How would anyone know what their lips felt like?

“Their hair looks fine as silk from afar, but jagged as a snake up close,” the bartender said, shaking his head gravely.

“They’ll sing to ye,” the bearded man said, and the whole pub went quiet. Everyone’s eyes went alight with fear, making even the drunkest of compatriots whimper and fall silent in horror. The bearded man continued.

“Aye, that’s right. That’s how they get ye,” he hissed, swiping his hands in the air like a tiger pouncing on prey, “They’ll lure even the strongest and smartest guy alive to a terrible death, and he’ll be too bewitched to resist it.”

He sighed, his fingers interlocking.

“No one can resist it. It makes ye just want to put yer hands over yer babby’s ears, just prayin’ that they never hear the song and walk straight out into the ocean.”

Medic’s face fell, feeling quite uncomfortable by the wash of pity that fell over him. These people were obviously suffering quite a lot, but this myth would be the death of them if he didn’t set the record straight soon.

Medic bowed his head as empathetically as he could, saying that he wished nothing but good fortune upon them and their families. Many wished Medic good luck when he took his leave, thanking him for looking into the matter and his bravery. The whole thing just left a bad taste in his mouth.

The sky was darker than the sea, but within that darkness was the most clear view of the stars that he had ever seen. In Teufort, the stars are very faint at night due to the pollution and haze from the never-ending tire fire.

Out here, though, there was nothing but unobstructed space for as far as the eye could see. It made Medic pause, to be sure, which was rare for him. He often considered himself too busy and “in the moment” to pay attention to anything other than his work. It made it a rare occasion for him to ever just stop and take a look around. Medic sighed to himself, continuing his descent down the lane while he told himself that perhaps the locals were just trying to scare him. Perhaps they all had a good laugh when he left, playfully joking with each other about how they fooled another stranger.

As much as he wanted to believe that was true, he knew deep down that it wasn’t. Medic exhaled softly as the path beneath him separated back to sand. He was back at the beach house, but found himself drawn more to the idea of sitting on the shore again rather than a comfortable sofa inside. The ocean was loud, but the sound was constant. After only about a day, Medic was used to it. He was beginning to find it quite lovely, actually.

Medic sat down, staring up at the moon. It was ginormous and full, sinking slowly on the horizon. It made the shore bright, casting a silver glow on everything in sight. He closed his eyes, breathing it in.

He heard a faint splash, but he paid it no mind. It was probably just a wave tipping into a tide pool. There was another splash, but he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t just imagined it. The air was silent after that, only accented by the rhythmic sweeping of the seawater and sand.

Medic opened his eyes, and his heart nearly dropped down to his stomach. It was the kind of fear you felt that only lasted a second, but was intense. Like when a friend sneaks up behind you and taps your shoulder. What caught Medic by surprise, though, was the beautiful woman boredly resting her chin on the back of her intertwined hands, her elbows resting on the obsidian-like rocks jutting out of the water.

Medic instinctively crawled back, putting as much distance between the two of them in a split second before he froze again. The woman only tilted her head with slight confusion at him doing so, but was otherwise unbothered. As a matter of fact, she really paid him no mind at all. She just closed her eyes and went back to soaking in the moonlight.

“This is a private beach,” Medic stuttered, “I’m not sure that you’re allowed to be here, madam.”

Her indifferent eyes fluttered open once again, and Medic could’ve sworn that she rolled them.

“Aren’t you cold…?” Medic murmured, his confusion deepening, “It’s the middle of the night—the water must be freezing.”

In addition to that, Medic wasn’t even sure if she was wearing anything. He could’ve been wrong, since it was dark, but he saw no fabric covering her shimmering skin.

That realization threatened to make his pulse stop right then and there. Skin doesn’t shimmer like that.

Medic stood slowly from the ground, reaching for his hip, where his bone saw usually hung. It wasn’t there, obviously.

“You stay back, creature,” Medic spat.

The woman’s eyes opened once more, seemingly filled with something like annoyance at the continued interruptions.

Medic grinned, a wicked laugh escaping from his chest. He pointed a warning finger at her, emboldened when the initial shock wore off and he realized there was a fantastic discovery lying just across the beach from him.

“You stay right there, if you consider yourself brave enough,” he chuckled darkly, “I’ll go get my tools and you’ll be packed in ice before sunrise.”

She blinked slowly at him, raising an eyebrow before she huffed silently. She didn’t move from her spot, only watching the lunatic in front of her with dull amusement as he rambled in graphic detail about the atrocious agony she would face as he hacked her apart. She blew a strand of hair out of her face, tapping her sharp nails against the rock as the man practically foamed at the mouth. Having heard enough for the novelty to wear off, the lady rolled her eyes once more and flicked her finger in a swift motion to the right. What could only be described as a small cloud of water lifted up from the sea and tore quite suddenly through the air. Before Medic could even register the image as it formed, he was doused from head to toe in the cold water—forced to the ground on his stomach. With shaking fingers, Medic numbly grabbed his glasses off of the ground beside him and put them back on his face. His mouth hung ajar, in utter shock as he slowly lifted his head from the wet sand towards the woman. She was silent, and yet she moved like she was laughing. Her hand was slapped over her mouth and her shoulders shook as she watched the strange man comprehend what happened. She wiggled her fingers at him in a sly wave, grinning before she pulled herself off of the rock and vanished below the surface of the water.

Medic’s jaw clicked shut, leaving him to stare up at the heavens as if he were asking why—oh, why did it have to be him? He spat at the ground, the saltwater making him cringe as he stormed inside the house, not even caring about all the water he was tracking everywhere. The first thing he did was shower and change into dry clothes, then he went to the living room. The doves were in a tizzy now that he was home, flocking down to say hello to him. His pulse hadn’t stopped racing since the moment he first saw that peculiar woman.

It was true. By some strange, twisted, fucking bizarre miracle, it was true! Medic had seen with his own eyes a sentient, living creature that vaguely resembled a human. He paced up and down the living room floor, muttering incoherently to himself and the doves as he fantasized about all the ways he could catch and kill one. Never mind Germany! Never mind wanting to go home! Never mind all that! Medic was hooked, pun intended. He wanted—no—he needed to know more about these things. He would tear that woman apart limb from limb if he needed to. Especially after she drenched him in all that water. He understood that message loud and clear: if it was a war he wanted, she would be more than happy to deliver one. The thought made every single one of his nerves tingle, sending shockwaves of elation to his brain as he made communion with all of the darkest parts of himself. How fortunate, how terribly, terribly fortunate that after only two days he’d been blessed with an enemy.

Chapter Text

The waters were calm, leaving traces of crystalline minerals as it washed upon the shore. They glinted in the pink majesty of the early dawn sky and Medic stood beneath it, looking out on the horizon for any sign of the mysterious woman he had seen the night before. He paced up and down the beach, slow and steady, tasting the salty air as we wondered to himself if maybe she only came out at night.

Back and forth he walked, treading patient lines in the sand while the growing mountain of thoughts and questions rolled over him. As he paced back towards the direction of his home, he saw the distant shadow of a figure by the rocks. His heart skipped a beat and he froze, staring dead-ahead as he silently confirmed to himself that he wasn’t imagining it.

Medic’s fists clenched at his side, his face alight with malice before he picked up the pace and started making his way over.

It was her.

Of course it was her.

His inner-thoughts collected themselves and pumped the brakes when he came about fifteen feet away from the lady, a solemn reminder that she could still be considered a threat. Her hair sparkled in the early light, not unlike a puddle of oil refracting the light on cement. It seemed to shift its colors at every turn of the waves. As they were the night before; her eyes were peacefully drawn closed as she basked in the sun, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as the tide rocked her gently against the stone perch.

“You,” Medic said dryly.

The woman didn’t even open her eyes, only acknowledging the man with a hubristic smirk.

“If you come with me now without a fuss, I promise I will make your death as painless as possible,” he coaxed, the corners of his mouth tipping upward to reveal a menacingly cold smile.

The woman’s eyes opened slightly—raising an eyebrow before they closed once more, unbothered. She sighed quietly, shifting a little so that her arms could feel the warmth of the rocks. The man was quickly becoming a nuisance.

“Or,” Medic offered, his smile unwavering as his voice darkened, “You can stay right there and the gulls will pick whatever’s left of you off the sand.”

The woman’s eyes opened entirely, though they weren’t filled with fear. She tilted her head upward and Medic followed her gaze to the small flock of seagulls circling the shore in search of crabs. He grinned, certain that his threat had struck a nerve with her before his thoughts were disrupted by a loud whistle. His gaze snapped back towards the creature, who was smiling softly up at the birds. The sound of their incessant calls as they circled the sky began to grow louder, and Medic was torn between what he should keep an eye on as a pang of anxiety made him take a step back. One seagull strayed from the flock, circling the beach once more before it dove towards the ground. Its speed was incredible, swooping down with the sureness of a missile. Medic’s eyes widened, his jaw clicking shut as he planted his boots firmly against the ground.

She was controlling it, wasn’t she?

Medic flinched, throwing his arms up to protect himself as the bird launched down from the sky to hit him. It came so close to colliding with him that he cried out, hardly registering that the blow never came. There was no explosion of feathers or squawking, only the gentle beat of its wings as it landed somewhere nearby.

Medic’s eyes opened uncertainly, his breath hitched as he lowered his hands slightly. Where was the seagull? At first, he thought he could’ve maybe hallucinated it before he turned and noticed the bird balancing itself on the woman’s hand. Medic’s jaw dropped, realizing that he had been tricked.

The woman fussed over the bird, smiling sweetly as she smoothed its feathers. She grinned, the first time Medic had ever seen her do so, and his blood went cold. Her canines were sharp—almost resembling fangs—but the rest of her teeth were perfectly human-like. For a moment, she turned her head to look at the bird. It was docile, possibly entranced, as it simply rested on her hand. Occasionally, it would bring its beak to its side and preen its feathers. Medic paled, his heart aching for the precious animal. He loved birds, and was sure that the seagull was about to meet a dark, carnivorous death. As the woman’s teeth glinted in the early sun, Medic prepared himself to witness the bird get reduced to nothing more than a red stain—washed quickly away by the blue sea. Instead, when the woman brought the bird to her face, she simply kissed the top of its little beak before placing it back on the sand. She watched with kind, loving eyes as it hopped away, picking at the scraps of seashells and clams along the shore.

Medic’s hands dropped hesitantly back to his side, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do next. The woman had definitely proven her point: the birds were on her side, not his. Medic’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and he scowled, scoffing quietly.

“Fine then, since you’re so sure, go right ahead. Stay there. I’ll go grab my tools from inside and gut you in just a few minutes,” he spat.

The woman tapped a finger against her cheek, rolling her eyes as she waited for him to follow through on his threat. He turned and stomped away, marching up to his back door and disappearing within the charming abode. The woman watched him leave with a small frown, eyeing his back as he walked away. Even she couldn’t deny that he was clearly capable of some kind of harm.

Medic’s boots clicked across the floor and he brushed aside open doors in search for his bag of tricks. The birds flapped their wings excitedly against the walls of their cage, happy that their master had finally returned home.

“Soon, my darlings,” he called distractedly over his shoulder.

He swiftly grabbed the handle of his briefcase that was poking out from under the bed. He pulled it, sending a few other pieces of untouched luggage cascading down with it. Medic hardly paid it any mind, though, as he was already making his way to the door. He froze in his tracks, his eyes falling on an object just within his peripheral vision.

On the dining room table table was his notepad and pencil, and beside it was his bone saw.

Medic smiled to himself, grabbing the saw with certainty before he re-emerged through the back door. It closed behind him, accentuating his departure with a slight jolt as he lumbered down the hill with his chosen items in hand.

Medic brandished his sharp saw and a cocky smile when he came upon the woman again, who was still surprisingly calm as she chilled on the rock formation. It must’ve been her favorite spot on the beach. Her beach.

Medic knelt down on the sand, unclasping the locks on his briefcase. When he reverently opened the lid, his smile grew at the sight of his shiny instruments of torture. Each one was perfect and useful in its own right, and he would be a liar if he said he had a favorite. He glanced upward, making sly eye-contact with the woman who tilted her head to watch what Medic was doing. Unlike him, the woman had no signs of malice or ill-intent in her expression, only a sort of curiosity and naïveté that Medic had lost long ago.

Medic removed the two gloves that had become almost like an extension of himself from the case, happy to be reunited with them once more. He slid them on, satisfied by the dull snap that was nearly drowned out by the sound of the sea. The woman smiled, a silent question on her face as she watched him rummage through the briefcase. Slowly, he stood. In one hand, he held his Übersaw. In the other, an uncomfortably long syringe filled with a purple fluid—a paralyzing agent. The woman was confused by Medic’s actions, her smile waning when she saw no compassion or benevolence in the man’s eyes. He walked toward her slowly, like a stalker, never breaking his gaze away from her as he drew closer and closer. She shifted uncomfortably, an unexplainable chill running down her spine. She would not move, though, because she trusted that her new friend was just trying to show her something.

Medic’s shadow fell across the woman at last, and he knelt, having never marveled at her up close until that moment. Her eyes we bright and hopeful, seemingly filled with what could only be described as unwavering trust. It made Medic pause. He felt as though his muscles were tensing up, his jaw clenching and his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as a drop of sweat fell from his temple. He was so close to her—so close to getting the job done and going home. So, so close.

He told himself to get it together. It was simple, after all. A basic procedure for a somewhat basic assignment. He just had to paralyze her with the serum and cut her up with the saw. He would leave no trace of her other than a fine red mist to fade in the wind.

His breathing was strangely labored, and a part of himself that he hated—yet a part of him that he couldn’t deny nonetheless—practically begged the woman to try to escape. To justify his actions or perhaps even get away for good. To leave and never come back. It was a privilege Medic had never spared for an experiment before—mercy.

What perhaps bothered him the most was not just that she had the opportunity to escape and chose not to, but also that she was shaking. Yes, as his senses returned to Medic, he noticed that the woman was shaking. She wasn’t crying or pleading, but she was obviously uneasy. Something about his demeanor had tipped her off to his plans, but her faith in humanity would be her downfall. Medic knew this. She knew this.

The hand holding the needle trembled as it reached out to puncture her glimmering skin, and Medic almost wanted to close his eyes when he made the injection, but it never found its target. Not when the woman came to the realization that she had been foolish to trust him.

Her gaze darted quickly over to the needle and she frowned, her eyes narrowing for a moment before a small but powerful explosion of glass and metal made Medic cry out and reel backwards. He tipped over, having lost his balance, and his hand flew up to protect his face as shards of debris zipped through the air around him. By the time the sand settled, he had realized his mistake. It would seem that one of the woman’s abilities was binding the ocean to her will—or all water-based substances for that matter. Just by batting an eye, she had reduced the glass syringe into nothing but razor-sharp confetti.

Medic looked up from his spot on the ground and his face dropped when he saw the pitiful woman. She was shivering harder now, her hands splayed out in front of her as she tried to comprehend the pain she was in. Glass shards jutted out of her palms and her fingers, which she flexed as if to loosen the objects. There were some on her arms, too. From the fine cuts the glass had created oozed a silver liquid, dripping faintly onto the sand. It was iridescent, refracting a spectrum of colors as it hit the light from the heavens. Medic was in awe.

Her blood isn’t crimson. That’s a first for him.

She was crying now, but Medic found it strange that she was still utterly silent. He began to grow vaguely uncomfortable watching her go on like that, staring down at her injuries with those vibrant eyes leaking shimmery teardrops. Her shoulders shook slightly, bringing the back of her trembling hands to her face as she tried to hide her tears. Medic stared, something odd stirring within him as she continued to cry. The very faint sound of her whimpering made the odd feeling worsen, and Medic glanced almost desperately back over his shoulder toward his house, wishing that he was anywhere else. With a shuddering breath, he turned back towards the woman before him. She was vulnerable, so helplessly exposed and unable to defend herself if he were to use his bone saw. After all, even without the paralyzing agent there was really no problem other than just a longer clean-up time.

Medic pulled himself carefully from the sand, dusting off his pants before dejectedly carrying himself to the briefcase. He dropped to his knees in front of it, opening it with a deep-seated frown. His fingers grazed across syringes of various sizes, knives, zip ties, chloroform, rags, and finally…

Medic grabbed a hold of it, examining the small case in his hands with a quiet sigh. He pulled himself away from the case and trudged back towards the woman. Her blood dripped ceaselessly onto the desecrated sand. Her tears intermingled with the water around her, hidden by the hands covering her face.

It would be so easy to kill her right then.

And yet.

Medic’s eyes softened.

And yet, this just wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen. He was a professional, and all of it simply felt too easy. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself.

Medic unzipped the first-aid bag, pulling the antibiotic creams and bandages out of their packages. He grabbed one such bandage and tore the paper off with his teeth, spitting it out before he went to work. His gloves had been removed, cast aside momentarily as he cradled the woman’s hands in his. To his slight disbelief, they were warm. The sailors in the pub from the night before had made it seem like they wouldn’t be, but he couldn’t remember their exact words.

Medic’s eyes were very deeply concentrated on his patient, taking note of every twitch and wince she made as he ran cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol across her arms. He wrapped a decent amount of gauze around them—having stopped the bleeding just a few minutes previously—before he suddenly stopped. His eyebrows threaded together and something clicked into place.

Medic threw his head back with a laugh, realizing all too late that his efforts were in vain.

“I don’t think these are waterproof,” he said jovially, gesturing to the carefully placed dressings he had wrapped around her hands and arms.

She said nothing. She wouldn’t even look at him. Her eyes had been devoid of any sort of vibrancy or light from the very moment he had plunged the needle towards her. Medic’s laughter died out, his hands falling awkwardly back into his lap as he realized how tense the air between them was. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes from the creature before he stood and collected the garbage he had unintentionally scattered across the beach. He was many things, but a litterer wasn’t one of them. He wordlessly packed up his briefcase, taking sneaky glances at the woman from his peripheral vision. She was sitting on top of the rocks now, her back to him as she slowly ran her thumbs up and down the unfamiliar-feeling bandages. She hugged herself tightly, no doubt with a lot on her mind. Medic’s eyes were drawn to the lower half of her body, which was previously concealed by the dark waters she called home. Her “skin” faded almost seamlessly into a long, iridescent tail. It had a few smaller fins, each one shimmering under the morning sun as the tail swayed in-rhythm with the gentle breeze. The rest of it was still hidden under the water, but he had no doubt in his mind that it was a sight to behold. She was breathtaking to look at in general, really.

Medic’s expression soured at the thought and he turned away from her, scowling. With an indignant “hmmf,” he treaded back up the hill and into his house. The glass door clicked shut behind him and he locked it, pausing for only an instant to let his gaze fall on the lovely being still perched on the rocks below. He shook his head, closing the blinds with another noise of disapproval. The only comfort he had then was his birds. They fluttered tirelessly in their cage, vying for his attention with their songs as he placed his briefcase and saw back on the table, next to his notepad.

“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” he told them softly. The birds didn’t seem to mind, only continuing their joyful chirping as freedom drew ever closer.

Medic opened the door to the cage, stepping aside as the birds left the box’s confines and explored their new surroundings. It was a wonderful sight—the rain of feathers as each dove greeted the Medic with gentle cooing and preening. The man was smiling ear-to-ear, his woes forgotten as the birds nestled sweetly in the crook of his neck. Oh, how he had missed them.

Medic practically collapsed onto the couch in his living room, his energy absolutely spent as he absently watched his birds investigate every inch of their new home. They chirped and tweeted ceaselessly—a sound that was most familiar to the doctor. It brought him a feeling of comfort and familiarity to hear it, as it was a stark contrast to the white noise of rolling waves.

Medic rested his head on his hands, looking up at the ceiling with a dull expression as the stress eased from his body. It would be a long day indeed, but he supposed there was no harm in taking a quick nap. He pulled his glasses off, folding them gently and setting them on the coffee table beside him before he kicked off his boots and settled in with a blanket. A few doves had already finished looking around and came to gather for warmth on his stomach. Their feathers rustled gently as they got comfortable, rising and falling with his soft breathing. In almost no time at all, Medic was blissfully and hopelessly asleep.

Chapter Text

The low whine of seagulls circling the port ushered in a new day, bringing with them a welcome change in weather. The sky was crystal clear with large, fluffy white clouds circling high up above. It felt beautiful outside, with warm breezes and a bashful sun kissing the homes built on the mountain. Medic was certainly not opposed to such pleasant conditions, but his mind was occupied with less trivial matters. He scurried back and forth between rooms, a small mob of little white doves flitting after him as he juggled feeding them and getting ready at the same time.

“Archimedes! Behave!” Medic groaned, shooing away the rowdy bird in question who had been trying to nest in his hair. Feathers fluttered seemingly out of nowhere like snowfall, mildly frustrating the disheveled man as he went.

The bathroom door clicked shut and Medic sighed happily to finally be by himself again. He set down his neatly folded clothes and got changed, combing his hair and restoring himself to the proper standard he always held himself to. As a finishing touch, he dabbed a little of his favorite cologne on his neck—just because. Medic felt at ease now that he was more put together, so he carried that restored suave with him as he ambled into the kitchen and grabbed a beach towel off the table, which was resting next to something else entirely.

The cold steel of his bone saw reflected a ray of light in his peripheral vision, a silent offer that there was plenty of fun that could be had. Medic’s thoughts were numbed in that moment when he looked at it, but he got a hold of himself just as quickly. He may have been tempted to grab it, but he didn’t want to use it just yet.

He shook his head and emptied out the remaining traces of mischief with it. There would be time for that later. For now, though, Medic had a date with the beach just a stone’s throw away from his back door.

The glass sliding door opened with a loud groan before closing swiftly behind him as the doves tried their best to protest. It hurt Medic to leave them so soon, but he had been suffocating them with enough attention all morning. He walked down the bend and immediately noticed that the rock formations were completely empty, devoid of any signs pointing to a rather elusive siren. Medic blinked, his hands dropping to his sides as he tried to reconcile with his disappointment. He was somewhat hoping that he would get to see his adversary once more.

Then, a rather interesting thought came to mind. Perhaps she’s just a rather good hider. After all, this is her beach, so it would make sense if she was watching his every move from somewhere just out of sight. Furthermore, she could probably stalk him from underwater and Medic would be none the wiser. He smirked at the thought, finding the idea thrilling as he laid out a towel on the sand and settled down on top of it.

Even if his dear foe would not be making an appearance today, he would still find a way to enjoy the passing minutes without her. He laid down on his back, cracking a book open and promptly getting lost within its well-loved pages. Soaking in the sun there was a marvelous feeling, somehow very different compared to New Mexico’s scorching ball of death. The pages of Medic’s book were crisp and smelled of his sandalwood bookshelves back home. The ink still looked fresh even after a lot of time had passed. Each word nearly jumped from the pages as Medic became more and more engrossed in the story. The gentle sounds of the calm waves made the experience even better, lulling him into a trance until he was nearly half-asleep. As a matter of fact, about a half hour went by and he did just that. With his hands folded under his head and the book tipped precariously over his face, Medic dozed off with a light fluttering in his chest. He could definitely get used to this, though he was definitely still cross with The Administrator.

The sand was soft and warm beneath him, pulsing faintly whenever the tide came in. One could say it was almost as if the beach had a heartbeat, soothing the waves before they could become too troublesome. Medic slept there for a long time, feeling more relaxed than he’d been in a long time.

A soft whistle was carried on the breeze, quiet and meek at first before strengthening with the wind. Medic’s eyes fluttered open before he sat up, startled when he realized that he had fallen asleep. Scrambling to gather his sharp state of mind, he rubbed his heavy eyelids and scanned the beach for any sign of life. He had heard something after all, hadn’t he? He couldn’t have imagined it, otherwise he wouldn’t have been woken up.

His head stilled, eyes narrowing when it carried sharply through the air once more.

That tune was very familiar to him, but he hadn’t heard it come out of any other person but himself. It was a lullaby—the very one that had been consistently stuck in his head since childhood.

But how could anyone else there know that song, and where was it coming from?

Medic closed his eyes, feeling the way his heart fluttered in his chest as he strained himself to hear it again. It was similar to the effect of putting a conch shell up to your ear—the echoing sound was there but coming from seemingly no particular direction. Then, it grew a little clearer, as if it were close by.

Medic’s eyes opened again, and suddenly he felt compelled to lift himself from the sand. He swayed a little tipsily on his feet, clutching his head when a wave euphoria and haziness rolled across him like molasses—slow and suffocating. Medic blinked quickly, stumbling a bit with a whimper as he tried to fight the force quickly overtaking his every thought and seeping into his bones. His legs brought him to the shore, only inches away from the water before a deep-rooted panic began to overwhelm him. He dropped to his knees, feeling the crisp, cold water seeping around him before being pulled back to sea. The tantalizing music crept into his mind and he groaned, crying out when a sharp clarity rendered his head completely void.

In only an instant, it was as if Medic was standing outside of his own body, staring over his shoulder. The ocean rippled and swirled, parting as a figure emerged from its shimmering surface.

Oh, how could Medic breathe when he saw the stars align right in front of him? It was a sight to be remembered, with her hair catching the light at just the right angle and her eyes burning with the most beautiful fury that Medic had ever seen. He felt his heart threaten to pound out of his chest, just begging for her to come closer and tear it out in a wonderful, bloody mess. His hands burrowed softly in the sand, tilting his head forward to meet her with unwavering obedience. Her calculating eyes bore into his, making his face burn hot with conflicting adoration and terror. The part of him that looked over his own shoulder struggled so hard to regain control of his body while the other part was devoted to her will and hers alone.

One of her hands emerged from the water, cascading jewel-like droplets down Medic’s cheek when she reached out and cupped it softly. He leaned into her touch, not of his own volition, and he hated that a part of himself almost seemed to yearn for it. Gently, her fingers traced the line of his jaw before lacing sweetly into his hair, feeling its softness. Medic sighed, a shaky breath escaping him as he was frozen mere inches away from the enchantress herself.

She tilted her head with a slight smirk as she observed his features before her grip on his hair suddenly tightened. He didn’t even have the power to wince or cry out from the pain, dread washing over his body when he was forced to simply watch as her cocky smile fell into a scowl. Her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened once more, forcing him down to eye-level as she stared into the very depths of his soul.

Her arms were no longer covered in the bandages Medic had dressed the day before, with seemingly no remnants of the injury left behind. It all seemed so clear when Medic realized what this was really all about.

This was his final warning:

Back the fuck off or you’re gonna have to watch while I make you drown yourself.

His body shook with stress and effort as he tried to pull away from her, still locked in place when he failed each time.

The woman did not blink, only continuing to narrow in on his widened blue pools as she read every deeply-hidden speck of his character; bringing each one under the light before she studied, scrutinized, and judged whatever it is she saw.

After what felt like an awful, lung-collapsing eternity, her eyes finally drew shut. She seemed deep in thought for a minute before they opened once more, not even looking at Medic. She looked unhappy, disappointed even. Her eyes were missing the gorgeous fire they held moments ago, replaced now with dull resentment and pain.

The woman’s eyes closed once more and she shook her head. Her fingers released Medic’s hair and fell to his shoulder. After a brief pause there came a hard shove, and he was pushed unceremoniously back onto the sand with a gasp. Medic’s teeth chattered when the feeling in his brain began to focus again and he was connected to the rest of his limbs. Shock and overpowering relief overtook his exhausted body when he realized the trance had been lifted, leaving him giggling and gasping for air all at once. He clutched his sides, his forehead resting on the sand as he thanked the universe for letting him live another day.

A small splash of water made him look up, just in time to notice that the woman was taking her leave.

“Wait!” Medic called after her.

She stopped, not turning to look at him, but still stopping nonetheless. Her head turned ever-so-slightly, indicating her slight annoyance at his persistent talent for surprising her.

“I’m Ludwig,” He blurted out, not even caring that he had just given his name to “the enemy”.

“Don’t you have a name?” He asked, his voice labored as his breathing continued to stabilize.

The woman did nothing other than gracefully drift there in the water, not even dignifying his question with a body-language response before she re-emerged herself in the vast abyss of the water. Medic wanted to call out to her again, but it was too late. He was left there, alone, scrambling to collect his thoughts on a beach with no one around to affirm what had just happened.

He grinned, almost wanting to laugh, and was surprised with just how happy he was. Oh, what a wonderful creature indeed. Cat and mouse is a fun game to play, especially when the other person is just as on board with it as you are. As Medic stared out onto the calmed waves once more and stood, ready to return to the comforts of his air-conditioned home, he couldn’t help but whisper out to her that the game was just beginning.

Chapter Text

Medic had woken up early this morning and rifled through his discarded luggage for a small, long tape-recorder with fresh cartridges. It was his favorite way of taking notes, and he would often record his voice walking through the steps of an operation so that in the event of an emergency, someone could play it back in his absence. Birds flapped their wings briskly in the air, adding to the chaos of Medic’s departure from the idyllic house on the beach.

The sun was beating down on his neat, slicked-back hair as he walked down to the shore, fiddling with the worn buttons on his tape-recorder.

Crisp water lapped at Medic’s shoes when he looked out on the bay, surrounded by a rather cloudy sky but very small, quiet waves. Everything seemed very still, if not a little out of place. His thumb pressed down on the red recording button, which obliged with a satisfying click, and he brought the speaker closer to his face as the tape began to wind down.

“It is about 6:30 a.m.,” Medic began, eyeing his watch for quick confirmation. His gaze wandered to the dark tide, entranced for just a moment by the surreal sight. He brought the recorder back up to his face, his calculating eyes roaming the beach once more.

“No sign of her yet,” he concluded.

The recorder clicked off, falling gently to Medic’s side as he took in the view. The rocks were empty, as were the waves, with no sign of the siren anywhere.

He was usually so patient, and yet, he was growing frustrated. Perhaps even slightly nervous. Had the woman decided not to engage with Medic anymore? Would she never come back?

His eyebrows threaded together in concentration and he tried his hardest to reassure himself that this couldn’t be the case. After all, she was just as fascinated with him as he was with her.

Right?

Medic inhaled the salty air with a quiet sigh, vaguely wishing that he had just killed her when he had the chance. Tracking down another one would be no easy task given that the ocean practically handed her over to him on a silver platter, and yet he had been hedonistic enough to miss his greatest opportunity. While these thoughts swirled and taunted him, Medic still did nothing but stand and watch, gritting his teeth.

The sky had begun to mellow after a few minutes of waiting, spilling from sherbet-tinged gold into a fading yellow and blue. When his eyes were momentarily pulled off of the water, the waves began to stir and coil vigorously—beckoning forth bright purple lightning far on the horizon. The crackle of thunder was dull, but boomed and reverberated quite a few times. Medic wasn’t pleased at the thought of being forced to stay inside, but what else could be done on a rainy day? He was almost certain that there was nothing else left for him to do on the beach regardless.

Medic turned on his heels, allowing his hands to interlock and settle behind his back as they often did when he was in a thoughtful mood, which was a frequent one indeed. The tape recorder slipped with finality into his pocket, void of anything beyond a few solemnly spoken words.

When Medic turned to walk back down the waterfront, however, his eyes were unexpectedly blessed once more with the visage of the elusive nymph herself, perched on a rock and looking out at the waves. Something about the way the tide moved seemed to concern her, with her mouth drawn into a thin line and her radiant eyes slightly downcast. Had Medic’s chest not been so heavy with elation, he would’ve tried picking her brain with small-talk surrounding the island’s weather. He was making calm strides toward her but his gaze was nothing if not ravenous. The woman either took no notice of his presence or simply didn’t care enough to acknowledge it. Medic’s footsteps ground to a halt and he observed with confusion and slight bewilderment when she calmly and gracefully pulled her tail out of the water, rotating so that she was facing the sand instead of the water. Ocean mist dusted the rocks as she seemed to brush the remaining droplets of water off of her shimmering fin. Medic tilted his head, wondering what could possibly motivate her to move away from the depths of her home. She combed her fingers through her lustrous hair, her eyes closed and mouth set in a contented smile as she dried off. A quiet sigh escaped her when she looked up at the darkened sky, making Medic’s heart skip a beat for reasons he couldn’t even identify. Her head turned to scan the beach, and he froze when he knew he’d been spotted. Something about the way her cold glare and dismissive motions were orchestrated filled him simultaneously with deep fury and uncontrollable joy.

She was something special, indeed.

The woman tipped her head away from him, angling herself back to how she was before. Now that she had almost completely dried off, the light seemed to catch the glimmer of her scales and fin much differently than it had before; it was brighter somehow, like a reaction akin to fireworks as the sun drenched her silhouette.

At first, Medic thought that he had hallucinated it when the sparkling lights faded and revealed two perfectly human legs where her tail had been. His jaw fell open, his “brilliant intellect” going dead silent and topsy-turvy the moment she emerged from the rock she was so fond of. The sight was reminiscent of a baby deer taking its first steps, especially when she stumbled at first and puffed her cheeks out in determined concentration as she used the surrounding rocks for support. She held her head high after the brief adjustment period, walking forward with a sure smirk on her face to see her object of annoyance so gobsmacked.

“Ahem,” Medic subconsciously brought a fist to his face as he cleared his throat. His cheeks suddenly felt quite feverish and he averted his gaze the moment his brain returned to its fully-functioning state. He may have been a man of violent and unsavory nature, but he still considered himself a decent enough person to respect his rivals. Even if those rivals were…

The woman approached a small sand embankment between the jagged rock formations littering the beach, searching for something hidden out of sight in the sand. After a bit of digging, she pulled up something wedged betwixt the stones. By shaking the loose sand off of it and unfurling it, one could see that it was a simple but equally elegant dress. Nothing was very fancy about it other than the smooth white fabric and lantern-cut sleeves. Medic was too busy dutifully averting his eyes to see her don the garment that he didn’t notice when she strolled right past him and began ascending the trail nestled where the sand met the silky grass. When he finally took notice, he practically stumbled over himself to catch up. She was walking at a leisurely pace, no doubt still adjusting from her shift between a tail and two legs. It was admirable the way she adapted to new surroundings, hardly paying any mind to the obstacles in her way. One such obstacle was still desperately trying to get her attention.

Medic could take the underhand no longer. He was fed-up and tired of being thrown off his carefully constructed rhythm time and time again by this fascinating yet infuriating creature. Medic admonished himself internally for acting like such a blundering fool and made an effort to recover the authoritative, tenacious, awe-inspiring genius he knew himself to be. Straightening the collar of his shirt and the rigid perfection of his posture, he strutted past the woman and turned sharply, blocking her path and nearly clotheslining her in the process.

“Just a moment,” he commanded, putting a bit of space between the two. He tilted his head, looking at the woman with a growing smirk as his ego reared back once more.

“Now that I have you here,” he purred, slipping his hand around hers and bringing it quickly to his lips, “I think it’s only proper that we introduce ourselves, no?”

The woman didn’t attempt to run away, but her eyes did narrow in slight bemusement at his persistent antics. What a pain in the ass.

She pulled her hand away from his and rested it on her hip, fixing him with an impatient glare as she waited for him to give up and get out of her way.

“I’m Ludwig,” he said softly, a line rehearsed many times for maximum effectiveness and charisma. The way he smiled to bear the slight sharpness of his teeth and the way his eyes crinkled and sharpened when he spoke were all meticulously planned, tested, and proven to work especially well on those he was trying to woo. He found that in the past it had never done him wrong, with a few of his unfortunate subjects practically swooning before he could even say a word. If the woman had so much as one little weakness, he was bent on weaseling his way into finding it. And so, putting into play all of the charming little parlor tricks he had perfected over the years, he leaned slightly closer to the woman and set the game into motion with a few choice words.

“Have you got a name, mein Schatz? If so, then I simply must learn it,” he asked, chuckling darkly at the way her eyes widened at his words.

The woman turned her head away slightly, her eyes swimming with thought as bashfulness dusted her cheeks an intriguing turquoise and silver color. To say Ludwig was laying it on thick would be an understatement, but it was something he considered himself proud of. After all, a man such as himself would be remiss not to use his more attractive attributes to his advantage. But the woman was no longer as surprised as she seemed before, regarding him with a shy smile as her hands reached out and traced slowly—curiously—along the defined edges of his strong shoulders before coming to rest on top of them. She looked into his eyes and he was certain, so very certain that he had done it. He had her right in his clutches.

She opened her mouth to speak and he waited expectantly to finally hear her name, or anything really. Instead, though, her grip on his shoulders tightened and he gasped at the sensation of her sharp nails digging into the trunk of his neck while her expression melted into a fierce, sharp scowl. She drove her knee right up the middle as hard as she could, rendering Ludwig’s brain dead for a good moment before he finally collapsed to the ground with a choked “AH!”

The pain was indescribable, unimaginable, and frankly not a feeling that Ludwig would ever want to recall again. He trembled slightly on the ground as he tried to get a handle on the seething agony that locked his body into a fight of not falling apart. The woman hid her grin behind her hand as she laughed sweetly, and when her voice reached the doctor’s ears he couldn’t help but notice how it sounded so innocent and melodic for someone who could do such impish things.

The cool surface of the dirt and grass cooled his reddening face, so he hardly noticed that his glasses had fallen off when he had crashed to the ground like a sack of bricks.

The woman’s amused smile faded into one of naïve curiosity, perhaps the truest part of herself, when she saw the odd things lying there. Gently, she crouched down and picked the spectacles up by their temples, holding them a bit high in the air and turning them this way and that. She admired how the sun caught the light in the lenses, but was quickly surprised and intrigued when a beam of light momentarily blinded one of her eyes. She rubbed it gingerly, regarding the glasses with a slight frown before trying once more to unlock the secret or purpose behind them. Looking down at the man still on the ground, she recalled that he had been wearing them on his face. Seeing as that was the most logical place to start, she cautiously slipped them over the bridge of her nose as he had done. The world around her became uncomfortably blurry, stirring a strangely sudden burst of pain in her head which prompted her to remove the bifocals as quickly as she had put them on. She glanced between them and the man over and over, trying to find out why the hell he would put himself through such a thing. Didn’t he want to see the world for how beautiful it was? No wonder he was such an ass all the time, the man’s vision was jank! Determined to help the sad, pathetic man live a better life for himself, she decided that she would withhold the evil circle-devices and free his mind to what the world actually looked like.

Ludwig groaned, spitting onto the ground before slowly pulling himself back on his feet. He swayed and sputtered at the dull throbbing that rocked his body, trying his hardest to pretend that he wasn’t going to be sitting on ice packs as soon as he got the chance.

“I need those,” he grunted unhappily, cutting to the point and holding out his hand for the glasses. The woman clutched them to her chest, turning away and shaking her head at him with a slight pout. Couldn’t he see? These things were making him act like such a pompous bastard!

“I need them,” he repeated, growing evermore impatient, “I can’t see anything.”

The siren’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Did he say that he couldn’t see without them? She looked down at the little round lenses with a starstruck look in her eyes. Clearly this was a kind of magic far beyond her own if the man had mastered such a strong illusion spell that he couldn’t see without them. She didn’t want to part from the curious object so soon, but she didn’t want to anger the strange man further. She had better things to do, anyway.

The glasses were slipped back into the palm of Ludwig’s hand and he put them back on his face with a sigh, displeased that the bridge was slightly bent from being mishandled. The woman stepped past him and he realized that she was preparing to make the short trek into town. The reason for her to do so was beyond him, but clearly she had done it before if the clothes she hid in the rocks were of any indication. Did mermaids even need to buy supplies or something like that?

Ludwig watched the siren as she walked, filled with questions about where she was going and why. He may be unstable, stubborn, and hotheaded, but he was also curious. He supposed that he could put aside the fact that she had kneed him “where the sun doesn’t shine” if it meant that he could get a closer look into the life of his test subject. She would be the first one soon enough, after all.

Ludwig dusted off the front of his pants, pulling himself together before setting off on the trail a little ways behind her. She looked over her shoulder and noticed him following her but didn’t stop, only throwing a pointed glance in his direction before plodding on ahead.

Chapter Text

The woman’s pace was leisurely as she took ample time to stop and look at the wildflowers growing on the side of the trail. Even though his presence was known, Ludwig didn’t get too close to her. His mind raced and wandered at every little thing she did, from the way she looked up at the clouds to the way she marveled at birds nesting in their trees. He felt that he was seeing the most honest part of her, someone who wanted to admire more of the world around them but still bound to only certain parts. That was something he could relate to himself, and something about seeing her fawn over clovers made it harder to imagine her blood soaking his coat. He wouldn’t let himself go overboard, though. For as beautiful as she was, there was nothing more beautiful to him than the feeling of his enemy’s pulse slipping away. So, he simply resigned himself to watching from a distance.

The soft bermudagrass parted ways for the two as the narrow dirt path opened into a cobblestone road that led straight into town. The faded yet vibrant walls of the different buildings were the apple of her eye, coming in all sorts of colors! The turquoise and salmon ones were especially her favorite, as they reminded her a lot of the shells on the sand and the fish in the sea. Now that she was a little more accustomed to her legs, her excitement drove her to traipse a little faster into the sleepy saltwater town.

Warm orange lights glowed from the wind-battered streetlights lined in rows along the main street, intriguing the strange visitor as she lingered past them. When she reached out to touch the light, she was confused by its solidity and drew her hand away from it, realizing she was duped by human technology. Unfazed, she just continued to meander down the lane.

Ludwig wracked his brain for an inkling as to where she was going. She seemed especially drawn to the soft lights that beckoned her from storefront windows. When she stopped in front of a quaint bookstore tucked between a butchery and a bakery, Ludwig was unsure of what to do next. He supposed he could go in with her, but then again it’s difficult to keep your distance in such a small space.

The woman looked over her shoulder, fixing the strange man with a skeptical gaze before beckoning him forward with a nod. He thought it must’ve been a trick of the light at first, but no! She waited patiently in front of the store until he finally took the hint and came up beside her.

A cold breeze pivoted down the narrow avenue, hastening his walk up to her at the prospect of going inside. The smell of baking bread from next door certainly did nothing to appease his growing hunger, but there would be time for food later.

Ludwig gazed up at the painted letters on the window, which bore an honest but inviting title: “An Siopa Leabhar”, or simply put, “The Book Shoppe”. Painted violets and lilies were intertwined within each letter, which matched the real flowers thriving in hanging pots under the overhang, which swayed in the wind.

“Do you come here often?” Ludwig asked, glancing at the siren next to him.

Her eyes were filled with the orange light opposite of her, a gentle and adoring smile on her face. She seemed more concerned with showing him her favorite place in town than answering his silly questions.

“Should we go in?” He prompted with a chuckle, “Or are we just going to look at the window?”

The woman blinked, returning once more from her dreamlike state. She studied him with a careful gaze, unsure if what she was about to do was worth taking the leap of faith. After all, he was certainly not the most trustworthy person. But she, on the other hand, liked to see the good in people. Even if it was hidden very deep down, beneath two evil circular glass lenses. So, she reached her hand out, startling Ludwig at first when she grabbed the back of his sleeve and hooked her arm in his before pulling him into the shop.

“Oh!” Was all he could say, his quiet surprise drowned out by the light chime of a bell ringing as the door swung open.

“Welcome in!” Called a voice, hidden behind several bookshelves.

The store was so familiar and comforting, not unlike any other small town bookstore you would visit. The smell of old pages and ink was a lovely scent indeed, and the rich mahogany colors and yellow undertones made the room feel very cozy.

An older man emerged from a room in the back, pushing a cart full of unorganized volumes towards the nonfiction section. His short stature and lanky form gave the impression of a stereotypical scholar, accompanied by a tweed jacket to boot. His weary eyes narrowed in on his new costumers before they widened with delight. A cheerful laugh emerged from the man before he left the cart’s side and took his place behind the front desk.

“Hello again, Miss! Why, I’m sure it hasn’t been more than a week since you’ve been in, has it? And I see you’ve brought a friend!”

He studied Ludwig with the knowledgeable perception of someone with plenty of life experience, seemingly curious by the slight tilt of his head. He stroked his short, greying beard with a fascinated hum before he addressed Ludwig directly.

“I say, please do pardon me for asking if it is none of my business, but are you that Ludwig fellow that’s just come into town? I’ve heard quite a bit of talk about you from the skippers at the dock.”

The siren giggled, fixing Ludwig with a teasing smile as he tried to recuperate from his sheepishness.

“Yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, offering out his hand. The bookkeeper obliged, firmly shaking it before he introduced himself as a Mister Torin MacCrary, the sole owner and proprietor of An Siopa Leabhar for an odd twenty-seven years or so. The man was an adventurer in his youth and traveled all over the world in his thirst for knowledge, eventually retiring happily and peacefully in the town of Botany Bay, which wasn’t unlike the village in Ireland he came from. Every day was a dream for the old man, who got to live harmoniously with his books, his friends, and his pet birds which he adored. Ludwig found that fact especially respectable, as well as everything else about the man.

“So tell me lass,” MacCrary said, fixing his kind eyes on the woman, “how can I help you fine folks this evening?”

She gazed back towards the bookshelves with an excited smile, shifting a bit.

“Ah, I think I know,” the man chuckled, shaking his head with a smile, “go ahead and show him. Take as long as you need to, it’s still in the same spot as always.”

Before Ludwig could begin to fathom what that meant, he was already being pulled by the arm down a narrow split in the shelves. The woman was courteous enough not to run, but Ludwig could tell by the light in her eyes that she was quite intent on finding something. Slowly, they trailed through the many colorful titles until they reached the older books, which were kept in an area sort of secluded from the others. The smell of dust and old pages was more fragrant there, reminding Ludwig rather dreamily of the collection he had at home. His eyes skimmed over the spines of each tome and novel he breezed past, trying to get as much of a look around as possible while she led him to the furthest corner of the local history archive section. She looked over her shoulder with hopeful eyes when she finally let Ludwig go, a silent plead to stay without it being against his will. He regarded her with slight bemusement for jolting him around so thoughtlessly, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious and a little flattered that she wanted to show him something.

“Alright. What is it?” He asked.

Her face lit up with the most wonderful grin, and Ludwig couldn’t stop it from vanquishing any qualms he had about following her into the store. The siren beckoned with a wave for him to sit on the carpet with her, and he begrudgingly accepted, making himself as comfortable as possible amidst the fraying rug.

She reached into the lowest compartment of the bookshelf, carefully pulling out an especially large and old book. It was well loved by the looks of it, no doubt as a result of her countless visits. She brushed the cover with her palm, shifting it between herself and Ludwig so he could see. Their knees were almost touching, and he had to resist the urge to tear his eyes away from the book and look at her. She smelled lovely—like jasmine and sea foam—but thought it would be weird to comment on that out loud.

The title of the book was unreadable. It was in Irish Gaelic, after all, and Ludwig certainly didn’t speak the language. He nodded in fascination regardless, not wanting to give the impression that he was disinterested just because he didn’t understand. The woman opened the book but immediately started flipping to find a page, not bothering to waste any more time for the sake of sentimentality. The edges of each page were painted gold, shimmering slightly with each touch as she reverently flipped through the aging pages. She slowed, flipping back a couple pages when she accidentally skipped over the desired one.

She paused.

Her fingers traced gently down the glossy paper, her eyes soft and full of swimming thoughts as she admired her object of affection with delight. Gently, she passed the book into Ludwig’s hands. Their eyes met for a moment, and he realized that she was waiting for him to finally see what she had wanted to show him. The moment felt like a long time, but he didn’t want to look away. It might’ve just been her wicked magic, but something about her eyes seemed so inviting up close.

He blinked, looking away with a smile so that his eyes could fall upon the treasure she revealed to him. He found himself staring down at a picture, or a picture of a drawing, rather. It took up the whole page, and it most certainly did not disappoint.

The artwork must’ve been made a very, very long time ago given that most artwork made at the time of folklore carried a certain distinct style or look to it. It depicted a scene of the ocean, with a great mass of rock and sand lying in the center. A young, wounded sailor was lying on the rock, seemingly close to death. Surrounding the sailor, though, were five divine-looking beings in the water. They were enshrouded in beautiful light and jewels, their enchanting features living and breathing within each delicate brush stroke. What was most striking about these beings, however, were the long, delicately painted tails that shimmered in the day like stained glass.

The siren’s fingers grazed gently over the page again, coming to rest wistfully on one of the being’s faces. Ludwig turned slightly, regarding her with pure awe.

“Is this where you came from?” He murmured.

The woman didn’t answer, only continuing to look at the picture with pure longing.

Ludwig found himself chuckling lightly; not out of malice or arrogance, but rather for true lightheartedness that bloomed in his chest.

“You don’t speak much, do you?” He asked, grinning softly.

“I’m afraid she’s not doing it on purpose, chap,” came the jovial yet wise voice of Mister MacCrary. Ludwig turned, startled by the old man’s sudden and undetected appearance. He angled himself slightly in front of the woman, wanting to hide the evidence of the siren’s secret for her own safety.

“Sirens don’t speak the language of man. Rather, they speak the language of their Earth Mother and the sea. It’s a romantic idea, though it doesn’t make for very extensive conversation,” he concluded, pondering deep and profound philosophical matters as he puffed on the end of a wooden tobacco pipe.

Ludwig was shocked, like a cold chill had shot down his spine.

So the old man knew.

The woman smiled up at Mr. MacCrary with a joyful wave before going back to admiring her book, not paying any mind to the floundering man next to her.

“How did you…?” Ludwig trailed off.

“How did I know that she’s one of the merfolk?” The old man asked, raising an eyebrow with a gentle smile. He closed his eyes thoughtfully as the smell of his tobacco lulled through the air.

“Well, I suppose I sort of just figured it out for myself by the second or third time she’s come to visit. It might’ve been her lack of shoes or something about the way she walked about like a wee baby on new legs and couldn’t speak a word—yet understood what I was saying,” he added.

“So, I made it a mission of mine to find a book she would like. And I did. She holds it in her hands at this very moment,” he gestured, smiling fondly at the woman, “Ain’t that a treat? She’s just as fascinated with her people as we are.”

Ludwig peered over at her, who suddenly seemed to realize that she was being talked about. She looked away a bit bashfully as she traced lines in the carpet.

“But I thought everyone in this town was afraid of the sirens. Weren’t you aware of the legends?” Ludwig asked.

“Of course I was aware of them! I was around when they created them,” the old man laughed, “But no, I was never afraid. At least not of her. Even if the rest of them are evil, I couldn’t give less of a damn because as far as I’m concerned, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The woman twiddled her thumbs, smiling happily as she flipped through the other pages of the book, admiring its many pictures. Ludwig hummed for a moment, a thought dawning on him.

“Could I purchase that book from you?” Ludwig asked, looking up at the old man.

Mr. MacCrary studied Ludwig for a moment before nodding.

“You can’t buy it now I’m afraid, I’ve locked up the till for the night. You can come back tomorrow and I’ll sell it to you. That is, under one condition.”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. A condition? Was he serious?

“What’s your condition?” Ludwig asked.

Mr. MacCrary peered at him over the edge of his tobacco pipe before nodding slightly in the siren’s direction.

“The condition is that you have to let her see it whenever she wants to. For free.”

Oh.

Ludwig turned to the woman, who was lost once more in the book’s pages.

“Yes. That will be fine,” Ludwig agreed.

“Good,” The bookkeeper nodded, his stern tone not going undetected, “Then we won’t have a problem.”

***

“You’ve never been in there before?” Ludwig asked, nodding towards the bakery door. The light was still on inside, a beacon of hope and delicious smells amidst the darkness of nightfall. A slight chill lingered in the air, but it was more crisp and refreshing than bothersome.

The woman shook her head, gesturing to her lack of pockets and money. Ludwig nodded to himself before gently taking her by the arm and hooking it in his before opening the door and pulling her in with him.

“Ah!” She gasped quietly, the sound muted by the soft jingling of a bell attached to the door as it opened. The smell inside was so wonderfully intoxicating that the two had to stop and take a moment to breathe it in before they approached the front counter.

“Two of those please,” Ludwig requested, pointing to an item under the glass container.

He paid for the food and walked back out of the building with a very starstruck mermaid in tow, who had never been in such a place before. She kept looking back up at him, just trying to confirm that he was in fact seeing what she was seeing.

“Here,” he said, rooting a loaf of Irish wheaten bread from the paper bag. He handed the still-warm pastry to the woman, who smelled it with equal skepticism and hunger. She watched him as he retrieved his own loaf and took a big bite out of the center, humming his satisfaction at the indescribable taste. Realizing that she simply must try it for herself, she took a bite of her own food, not really knowing what to expect.

Ludwig watched with awe and admiration as her beautifully sharp fangs tore off a piece of bread and could hardly contain his own joyful laughter when she made a happy noise at the discovery of her new favorite thing to eat. Who would’ve thought that human food could be so good?

The two’s footsteps pattered gently across the cobblestone bridge as they entered the realm of the field and beach once more. The walked side by side and devoured their bread in comfortable silence, surprised that time passed so quickly when they ended up back on the shore.

“I suppose you must be going,” Ludwig said, rubbing the back of his neck.

The woman smiled softly with a nod, bidding him an unsaid goodbye before she disappeared behind a rock to shed her human garments and return to the gentle waves. He waited there for her, looking out on the horizon as more purple bolts of electricity lit up the constellation-laced sky.

There was a gentle splash when she appeared next to him again, just as entranced by the sky as he was.

When Ludwig turned to look at her, he found himself looking into her eyes again. They reflected the moon so profoundly in each iris, like silver coins that stole his free-thinking mind away every time they caught the light.

“Do you know what’s been happening with the storms?” Ludwig found himself asking out of the blue. He asked it softly, but still earnestly.

The woman shook her head, and Ludwig believed her. If she really was the cause of all the island’s problems, it wouldn’t make sense for her to be so…herself. He didn’t think that was such a bad thing, though.

“I think I should go inside now,” Ludwig told her, smiling softly, “I had a good time today. Thank you.”

The woman combed her fingers through her hair, her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to stifle a shy smile.

The doves were in a frenzy as soon as the door opened, bombarding the poor doctor with equally loving and angry chirps for being left alone for so long. He obliged in giving them all the attention they so desired as he cared for them, though his mind was elsewhere. When he retired for the night and settled beneath his fresh linen sheets, he found himself drifting into hazy dreams latent with the smell of jasmine, sea foam, old books, fresh bread, and ink. He dreamt of paintings, of bookstores, of retired adventurers, and of a light just beyond the rocky formations of the shore. He wanted to go there, and he felt deep inside his bones that there was someone waiting for him, calling and reaching out for him, too.

Chapter Text

Ludwig chewed thoughtfully on the stubby end of his pencil, silently grasping for a muse as he tried to form distinct lines on a piece of paper held down precariously by his other hand. All he had managed to draw were a few poorly formed circles, nowhere near his usual ease with sketching. He found it hard not to doubt his abilities for a moment when drawing had come so naturally to him for all his life, with shapes just pouring out on the page with a flick of his hand. The vigor and inspiration had run dry today, it seemed.

Frustrated, Ludwig moved the pencil once more from his hand to his shirt pocket, clicking his tongue with a barely-audible scoff. The notepad dropped indignantly to his side with a small *poomf!*, kicking up a little bit of porcelain sand in its wake. He hugged his knees a little closer to his chest, pondering many things as he stared out at the water. There was a small splash and sparkle of movement, no doubt the siren up to her usual antics. She had been watching him, too, for the past half an hour or so since he got there—sitting still at the same spot on the shore. She splashed around happily in the silver and turquoise waters, motioning many times that she wanted Ludwig to join her among the waves. He politely refused every time, though, because he wasn’t unaware of the game merfolk liked to play on unsuspecting sailors. All it took was to lure them into the water and they were as good as drowned. So, even without being beside him, she simply enjoyed his presence from a distance.

Looking over, though, it became suddenly quite obvious that the strange man wasn’t having nearly as great of a time. She stopped swimming for a minute, floating in place as she observed every expression and movement he made. Why was he frowning? How could anyone look so miserable on such a nice day? These thoughts bothered her to no end. She was dead certain that a nice swim would change his life for the better, but he seemed adamant about not going in the water. That was a whole other thing her mind wouldn’t accept altogether. A dull turquoise dusted her features, making her submerge just to eye-level to hide her warming face. That “Ludwig” was a strange one, and she realized that maybe she would have to go out to him in order to gather intel if he wasn’t going to swim out to her.

Ludwig was stirred from his restless mental meandering, turning his head when he heard the telltale splash of the siren taking a break on her favorite rock. She folded her arms on its warm, sun-kissed surface and sighed with contentment as she felt the sun’s rays on her back. She rested her head in the crook of her interlaced palms, closing her eyes and savoring the cool water. Ludwig stared for what he soon realized was a while, turning away with slight embarrassment before his eyes fell on the notebook that was still at his side. Quickly, the extinguished fire in his mind rekindled, warming his numbed body as he reached out and held the notebook once more in his hands.

Pulling his pencil from his pocket, Ludwig fervently erased all of his previous attempts and started anew, starting with a few precisely symmetrical strokes that connected like a beautiful web into a figure. Unaware of the keen eyes peering out at him, the pencil scratched and scribbled noisily in the crisp yet gull-ridden air. When the drawing was finished, the notebook fell into Ludwig’s lap with a satisfied smile. His eyes trailed upward and found that the nymph’s eyes were alight with lovely interest.

“Hmm? Would you like to see?” He asked, looking away a bit bashfully. He was never one to show others his sketches, but he couldn’t deny that her possible reactions deeply appealed to his thirst for more interaction. She nodded fervently, delighted that he was finally giving her the attention she so rightfully deserved.

Ludwig traipsed over to the rock, humming a light tune to himself before he sat down alongside it, facing her. With only slight hesitation, he stared down at the paper before turning it around and sliding it into her hands.

The woman seemed confused at first about what exactly she was holding in her hands, if the slight tilt of her head and the inquisitive glimmer in her eyes were of any indication. Then, quite suddenly, her face became alight with awe and a bright turquoise hue. She stared, glancing between the paper and Ludwig with an excited grin. She pointed to herself, and Ludwig laughed gently.

“Yes, my dear, that’s you!” he affirmed, very pleased that she liked it.

She went back to admiring the drawing, and Ludwig found himself admiring the way her vibrant eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled.

In fine strokes of pencil, he had captured the image of her lying on the rock, admiring the tides as they rolled gently in. She seemed especially fond of the way he drew the water, running her fingers over the lines with a wistful gaze.

“Would you like to keep it?” Ludwig offered. It struck him right after the words left his mouth, though, that it was a dumb question. She couldn’t bring it into the water, of course, or else it would disintegrate. It’s only paper, after all.

The woman nodded, confirming that she would indeed like that very much. Setting the paper down on the rock for a moment, she dipped both her hands in the water and re-emerged them with a slight pool of water resting in her palms. It gently swished and glinted against her scales before the droplets began to expand into a large air bubble. Awestruck, Ludwig watched as she picked the paper up with the bubble in her hands, which somehow kept it perfectly dry and pristine. At the sight of it, a memory flickered in the forefront of his mind.

“Wait,” Ludwig gasped, “Is that how you returned that notebook to me? A few days ago? I thought the wind had blown it out of the water, but—it was completely dry.”

The nymph smiled softly—her eyes fluttering closed in a recollecting way—and giggled slightly at the memory of whipping a notebook as hard as she could at his back.

“Ja, I bet you do think that’s funny,” Ludwig teased, hiding his amusement, “I could’ve been hurt, you know?”

The woman shrugged, grinning once more before she waved a finger in the air and sent the bubble drifting softly under the water’s surface. Assumedly, it was being sent to whatever place she called home.

When her eyes opened again, the woman noticed that Ludwig was lost in thought once more. Patiently waiting for him to collect his thoughts, she rested her head on her arms and tried to get her rising temperature under control.

“Would you like to give it a try?” Ludwig said, perking up slightly. His blue eyes were filled with gentle wonder, igniting the siren’s own curiosity as he pushed the notepad and pencil on the rock in front of her. She eyed the writing utensil warily, glancing up at him for a moment before hesitantly picking it up. From what she had observed before, he had held it a certain way and just…moved it across the page, right? She also remembered him doing something like…

Ludwig’s shrill laughter startled a nearby seagull when the siren nibbled the eraser of his pencil, her face lighting up with disgust and horror at the foul taste. Disgruntled, she glared at him until he eventually managed to settle down, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes.

“Here, Frau,” He murmured sweetly, “like this.”

He scooted a little closer to her, gently enveloping her hand in his to readjust her grip on the pencil. Her eyes flickered up at him when their hands first touched, and Ludwig found himself glancing away with a scoff. He didn’t like how warm his cheekbones were getting, and wanted to ignore altogether how much he had the urge to compliment the softness of her hands.

The siren looked down at the page with a determined smile, moving her wrist as he had done and hummed with delight when she saw lines in the pencil’s wake. The sensation was bizarre and unfamiliar at first, but she got the hang of it with relative ease. Soon, she found herself concentrating deeply as she printed the shape of two circles and a line between them. Two longer, narrower lines stretched on either side of the circles. When she began shading them in, Ludwig tilted his head to see what she had made.

“Those are my glasses!” Ludwig admired proudly, appreciating the fine detail she displayed in the lenses. Grinning, she nodded, before putting a big “X” through the drawing.

Snorting, Ludwig shook his head and regarded her with a playful smile.

“No matter how many times you ask, I can’t not wear my glasses. I need these to see!”

The woman huffed slightly, turning her nose up indignantly at the thought.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Ludwig purred, “I think you’ll grow to accept them eventually.”

The siren stayed by Ludwig’s side for a while, until eventually he remembered that he had a phone call on his itinerary. As much as he would’ve liked to draw with her some more, he had business to attend to.

“I’m afraid I must part for now, my dear,” Ludwig said, pushing the glasses up on his face with a smirk, “I do hope that you’ve learned a bit more about art than you did bef—“

The woman flicked water at him with an annoyed huff.

“Er—I mean,” Ludwig backtracked, “You know plenty about art already. I was just teasing,” he snickered.

The woman tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in a silent warning that any further patronizing comments would be met with swift and immediate condemnation.

“Yes, well, it was good seeing you, too,” Ludwig cooed, enjoying the last laugh before turning away and walking up the hill to his home. The glass door locked behind him with a click, dampened by his heavy footsteps across the floor to the phone in the hallway.

The numbers were punched in slowly as Medic read off the numbers to himself from a card. He reached for the phone and pulled it off the receiver, holding it to his ear as a dial tone patched him through.

A quiet flick signaled that the call had been answered, but there was only silence on the other end.

‘Ah, of course,’ Ludwig mused to himself as he rolled his eyes.

“Hello, this is The Medic,” he chirped, twirling the phone cord between his fingers.

“I want a full status report,” The Administrator’s voice grunted in reply. She paused briefly to take a drag of her cigarette before regarding him with her usual impatient demeanor, “And make it quick. I have a meeting in less than an hour.”

Medic subconsciously glanced to the clock on his wall, realizing that it wouldn’t have done him much good thanks to the time zone difference.

“Well,” he began, “I believe that—“

“I’m sorry? You believe? I’m not calling you to hear what you believe, Medic. I’m calling for results,” she growled.

Medic’s mouth hung open, not out of shock, but rather from uncertainty. While backstabbing was more in The Spy’s wheelhouse, he himself had no shortage of double-crossing experience. Being too hasty to give away information could prove dangerous in the long run, so Ludwig decided to choose his next words carefully.

“I’ve spoken to the residents here,” he continued patiently, “And while I haven’t found any concrete evidence, I will notify you as soon as I find something of substance.”

“Search harder, then,” The Administrator sighed, “I’m counting on you to find something extraordinarily useful for this company. Pray you do not disappoint me.”

Before Ludwig could utter an overly cheerful “Yes, ma’am!”, the line had already dropped off into nothing but a worthless dial tone again. Returning the phone to its receiver, Medic’s smile fell. He chewed his lip and paced back and forth, considering the dangerous decision he had just made. It wasn’t his own safety that he was afraid of, but rather the safety of his ongoing study. It would be troublesome indeed if he were pulled from the operation, heaven forbid The Administrator were to send someone else for the job. They would certainly lack his creativity and expertise! They would muddy the fun and the benefits of such an endeavor, and that thought alone made Ludwig’s blood boil.

No—while at first he may have hated the very idea of this ridiculous act of corporate corruption, he was in too deep now. If they wanted to take this once in a lifetime experience away from him, The Administrator would need to pry it from his cold, dead hands. She had strung together and intricately-woven game with many rules, and he was expected to be a good little puppet on her strings. Ludwig was more than happy to play the part well, but in appearances only. Indeed, she was a skillful game master, but he was making a bit of a diversion in her spiderweb plan.

Yes, it was settled in Ludwig’s mind. He would be playing a game of his own making from now on, with no rules to follow but his own.

Chapter Text

Silver-white sunshine carried like a breeze through the early morning air, stirring Ludwig from his sleep with only slight hesitation. He sat up in bed, sleepily retrieving his glasses from the modest bedside table before his doves gently but sternly prodded him out of his room and into the kitchen, where their feeders were kept. It was a lovely day, with few clouds in the sky and barely any waves dotting along the water at all except for a few small ones that rolled against the sand. The water was a bit brisk, with its usual warmth returning only as the sun made its true appearance in the later hours. With a cup of coffee in hand, Ludwig made good use of his newly acquired groceries and helped himself to an omelette (safely out of view of his precious birds). Archimedes didn’t seem to mind, though, and made himself quite comfortable in the disheveled locks of his provider’s hair. The soft, occasional flap of his wings brought a smile to Ludwig’s face as he finished the remainder of his breakfast.

In the back of his awakening mind, he found himself feeling quite satisfied by the previous night’s telephone call. He felt invigorated now that he was operating on his terms and no one else’s. The day was full of opportunities, and Ludwig could pursue whichever ones he very well pleased. This newfound freedom manifested itself when Ludwig opted to take a walk down to the beach without a weapon or tool of malice in his hands. His footsteps fell softly as he approached the beckoning water, his eyes immediately shifting to a familiar silhouette stretched across the warming surface of scraggly rocks.

“A fine day, isn’t it?” he called gingerly, alerting the woman without startling or sneaking up on her. She stretched her arms out, her back arching against the rock as she stirred from her nap. When the siren’s eyes fluttered open and came to rest on the upside-down image of the man before her, her face lit up in a dazzling smile.

“Greetings,” he laughed softly, “Sorry to wake you.”

The woman turned over, lying on her stomach and propping her hands under her chin, regarding Ludwig with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. They darted not-so-subtly back and forth between him and the water.

“I’m afraid that swimming isn’t ideal for me this morning,” he explained apologetically, “I just washed my hair, you see, and the salt would mess it up again.”

The woman’s smile dropped into an unamused line, cocking an eyebrow as human nature continued to baffle and annoy her.

“Maybe some other time, I promise,” Ludwig chuckled lightly, splaying his hands as a means of reassuring her.

His eyes fell to the stretch of sand nearest to them, walking over and sitting down in front of the water with a sigh. He rubbed his tired eyes and ran a hand through his hair, picking away a few dove feathers in the process. It would seem that having clean hair was already a lost cause.

The woman slipped off of her rock, disappearing under the water for a moment before pulling herself into the shallow end. She sat with her tail folded beside her, still touching the surrounding water while allowing her to sit on land beside Ludwig. She grinned at him, tipping her head in a greeting before scanning the sand for any shells or interesting trinkets. He watched her search with contentment, even lazily running his own hands through the countless grains in case he could find a token to gift to her. Eventually, her eyes were pulled off of ground with a slight jump of surprise. A dull thud against the inside of the house’s window alerted the two that the doves were growing restless. Violently restless.

The woman looked between the man and the small structure before a realization seemed to dawn on her. She extended a finger, pointing it at him before turning her hand to face the abode.

“Yes, that is my home,” Ludwig nodded, “Temporarily, of course.”

She stared at the house with tangible curiosity, wishing nothing more than to see such a place for herself. Images of treasure and human-made objects bubbled in her awestruck mind, equally stunning and terrifying her at the same time.

“Yes, yes,” Ludwig sighed, “It’s not bad, I suppose.”

He turned, finding himself without a single thought in his mind when he looked into the shining eyes of the siren.

“And you,” he murmured, struck with a question like a hot coal turning in his head, “Where is your home, might I ask?”

The woman stretched again, turning away from him for a moment. It seemed less like a genuine action and more like a passive effort to change the subject. Ludwig hummed, nodding with unsaid understanding. He didn’t blame her for not telling him, he supposed. After all, he hadn’t done much to earn her trust thus far.

The atmosphere between them was a bit chilly all of a sudden, with the aforementioned topic being a sore one. Ludwig could sense this as soon as she had turned away, much to his embarrassment. When she slipped back into the water, he stood. He wanted to apologize for his brief lapse in etiquette but she didn’t disappear back into the water like he thought she would. Instead, she simply floated on her back in the waves, staring dreamily at the sky. The moon was still faint on the early-morning horizon, bidding one last fair-well kiss before parting for the encroaching solar waltz. It would have its time again, soon, once the sun finally knelt in the passing hours. To her, what she once knew as home was practically just as far away.

“I apologize,” Ludwig said candidly. He opened his mouth to say more, his fingers twitching briefly at his side when further words evaded him. Perhaps nothing more needed to be said.

Hesitantly, Ludwig turned away from the water and the pensive mermaid, walking apace up the narrow path nestled between the land’s rolling hills. He was unsure of where exactly his destination would be, but a long walk never served his restless mind wrong. With every stretch of dirt, grass, and eventually cobblestone he stepped across, the truly inevitable end of his path happened upon him sooner than expected. He was surprised when the dull glow of an oil lamp in a particular shop’s window nearly beckoned him straight into it, fortunately looking up from the ground just before that blunder could happen. His flustered mind was freed from its racing state, registering the tell-tale painted lettering on the smooth glass a few inches in front of him. It would seem that of all places, he had ended up in front of the most appropriate place for some peace and quiet—the book store. In a last-ditch effort to soothe the storm of negativity occupying the space between his ears, Ludwig pushed through the door—whose bell softly announced his hasty arrival. The smell was comforting, drawing a long breath from his lungs he didn’t know he’d been holding. He was able to disappear amongst the shelves in solitude for a moment, tracing his fingers along the spines of books he was too distracted to read before the shop’s observant keeper cleared his throat from the desk tucked into the back corner.

“Guten tag,” Ludwig murmured absently with a wave. He perused the titles in the nonfiction section, reading the front of each one despite the language never registering.

“You seem distracted, my boy,” Mister MacCrary’s all-knowing voice noted from behind his wooden pipe.

“Distracted?” Ludwig echoed, “About what?”

The elderly shopkeeper’s gaze followed the man with equal parts curiosity and amusement, blessed with all the time in the world to ask his questions as they came.

“If I could fathom a guess,” he glanced up at the ceiling as if a premonition was etched into the aging rafters, “I’d say it has something to do with our dear siren friend, yes?”

Ludwig hummed uncertainly, feigning ignorance as he disappeared into the shelves again.

Mister MacCrary reckoned it would be prudent to simply cut to the chase.

“So what’d you do?” He asked, wiping his nose with a handkerchief before returning it to his jacket pocket.

“I…” Ludwig traveled off, “believe I’ve upset her.”

Silence lingered in the air for a moment before the old man’s voice rose once more from behind the books. It didn’t seem to carry sympathy, but rather an empathetic and sincere understanding.

“That so? Go on,” he said.

“I asked her about her home,” Ludwig replied, “And I know now that I probably shouldn’t have. It was my mistake.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Mister MacCrary reasoned, “There’s really no way you could’ve known how she’d react. It’s a delicate matter, yes, but not one that you would’ve been aware of.”

Ludwig ceased his hectic downward spiral and reappeared before the desk with a sudden, sharp realization.

“Wait,” he said, grasping for the words, “You know quite a bit about her, don’t you?”

The old man looked up, surprised for a moment by the sudden change in the young man’s energy. The pen he held in his left hand was set gently onto the side of his ledger book, where the man’s hands folded neatly in thought.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Mister MacCrary admitted, “But that is a personal matter. I’m not sure how comfortable I would feel revealing the details of the young lady’s—“

“Then perhaps instead of a personal perspective,” Ludwig interrupted, hopeful, “You could approach it from a historical one? Disregarding her, what happened to the other sirens?”

Flustered, he realized that he had been a bit blunt.

“Where do they come from? In a broader sense, I mean,” he concluded.

Mister MacCrary was a very sharp fellow in possession of a keen mind, with eyes that—though nearsighted—could see clearly into the inner workings of other people. He saw a lot in the man standing before him, but malice towards the sea nymph was not one of them.

Slowly and thoughtfully, the scholar picked up his pen once more. It scratched silently across the worn paper of his ledger.

“Where indeed,” he pondered aloud.

His work-weary eyes never left the pages in front of him as he spoke, filling the small room with a deceptively large presence when he did so.

“I’ve seen many things in my day, but at the end of it, I’m just one tired old man that sells books for a living,” he nodded, “But.”

The pen was placed firmly on the desk once more, the book of logs closing with a thump. Ludwig watched with undivided attention as the old man chewed meditatively on the end of his pipe.

“I’ve heard many things. Stories weave together, you know? If you hear enough parts of one, eventually the bits and pieces weave together like a pattern,” he considered, “Even if there are gaps, anyone with my experience could use a reasonable guess to fill in the spaces.”

“A long time ago, the waters were filled with people just like her. The merfolk, as they called them. There was always a fear of the unknown floating about back then—it was a superstitious time—but there was no reason to believe that the creatures could or would harm us land-lubbers, so we just kept our distance and went on our merry way.”

“There was an underwater residence for them, so to speak. It’s never been seen, as aquatic technology didn’t exist at the time to bring us there. Doesn’t matter. Nothing really to see there now.”

“Back then, the merfolk were just like us in many ways. The only real difference between us and them was the absence or presence of fins and legs. They had dreams and aspirations, too, just like you or me. They had their languages and we had ours, and while we couldn’t understand them, we still got along just fine I believe.”

Mister MacCrary glanced up at the ceiling again, recalling the passing centuries with a crinkle of thought between his eyebrows.

“Of course, there was quite a craze a long time ago when explorers, inventors, and conquerors sought for the secret of eternal life. Youth, if you will. To think that we were once so obsessed with eternal life that some even wasted all of theirs searching for it. It truly is fascinating isn’t it? A product of the times, my friend, a product of the times.”

He waved away his tangent, noticing the rather far-out look in Ludwig’s eyes.

“I digress. My point is: the search for eternal life has always been strangely prevalent in the ancient past and wonderful present. Despite what you may believe, the merfolk were just as fascinated with the concept, too.”

“They had a goddess they believed in, if I recall correctly. A sort of Venus-like figure, a combination of their Earth Mother and the source of the merfolk’s bloodline. Anyways, they begged her, you see. They plead for a solution that could ensure the continued existence of their distinct population, warding off certain annihilation and the growing number of their kind lost to human hunting. It’s a sad thing, really.”

“Well, by some miracle, it would seem that their prayers were answered. The eternal youth they craved was granted in the form of a tangible source,”

Mister MacCrary tilted the tobacco pipe listlessly in his palm, glancing at Ludwig with a troubled expression.

“Human blood.”

Ludwig’s shoulders stiffened, not all that surprised by the fact but still rather unnerved.

“But it wasn’t as bad as you would think. At least not at first,” Mister MacCrary continued, “For a while, we coexisted in a sort of peacetime state. We would hunt and kill a few of them, and they would do the same. They weren’t greedy, only taking as much blood as they needed and nothing more. It sustained them and their lifestyle for quite a long time, until eventually ‘enough’ was no longer enough at all.”

“Hunting became a vital and crucial part of their lives. Children as young as newborns were taught to hunt human flesh immediately. Their craving and thirst for blood became insatiable, to the point where the waters here ran red with blood. They were monsters, possessing none of the mystical abilities from their way of life before other than their talent for song. That, too, would be used to further push their hunger and bloodlust—luring sailors to their deaths with their voices and seduction. In any case, their deity did not take kindly to the corruption of its people, and swiftly brought a tragic and unwavering condemnation upon their heads.”

Mister MacCrary tapped the wood of his desk, nodding solemnly.

“They disappeared overnight. A tragedy, from what I hear. Legend has it, the deity damned every single soul to remain a statue at the bottom of the ocean, where they will thirst for blood for all of eternity—unquenched, and never seeing the sun again. Some claim to have found such statues washed up on shores in foreign lands, right before an unexplainable tragedy strikes.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He chuckled dryly, though there was no joy in his eyes, “Some believed that the tears of a mermaid were needed to find the fountain of youth. Countless tears were shed that night, but the only thing that reigned eternally was their suffering.”

A long, meaningful pause fell upon the room, broken only when Mister MacCrary spoke once more.

“But,” he said again, “It would seem that the merfolk’s deity wasn’t entirely absolute in its nature. There remains one siren, a young woman that has not been corrupted by the taste of human blood. Unlike those before her, she is not born of evil. The ocean is her home and ancestral birthright, yet she has no place to go. There is nothing left for her here.”

An uncharacteristic spark of curiosity and unknowingness existed in the old man’s eye for a moment.

“Yet, there’s one thing that stumps me to no end. She doesn’t simply meander about, waiting to die. She would’ve done that long ago if that was the case. She has a purpose, though I can’t figure out what.”

“A purpose?” Ludwig finally spoke, “What kind of purpose?”

Mister MacCrary leaned against his armrest, deep in thought as he considered the question for himself.

“As much as it bothers me that I don’t know anything specific, I do know one thing for certain,” he said, “She’s looking for something.”

Chapter Text

The water was pleasantly warm as the sun rose from the east and spread its golden majesty on the water like paint across a canvas. The siren was pleased, floating gently in the soft waves as she gazed up at the sky. There were large, fluffy clouds that morning, but she enjoyed their presence. While her knowledge of non-aquatic nature was limited, she did like to fathom the shapes of clouds in the same way the humans did.

With the sun’s magnificent warmth shining on her face, she felt at peace. The only thing, in her opinion, that could make the morning better would be a friend to share it with. But her new friend from the beach hadn’t emerged from his home yet. She wondered if maybe he had other plans for the day, in which she would simply have to find another way to spend her time. As she was about to disappear back under the stirring surface, though, the quiet squeak of a door opening caught the siren’s attention. She turned, overjoyed to see that her friend was coming out to play. When Medic emerged from the mysterious depths of his oceanside abode, the siren’s interest was piqued at the man’s spontaneous change of apparel. Normally, he could be seen spotting a pair of trousers and a smart looking shirt—on the rare occasion, in addition to a vest. Today, that was not the case. Instead of wearing his familiar genre of clothing, he was sporting a look that the siren had seen very often on the more populated shorelines around the island: a simple pair of swimming trunks and a t-shirt.

The whole thing was so uncharacteristic, it was throwing the woman for a loop. She stared, awestruck at the implications of his attire. When it registered, she became nearly overwhelmed with happiness and glee as he finally took a seat on the warm sand and gazed out at the water. She emerged in front of him, smiling widely in anticipation. The sun had a way of striking her magnificent scales in the most dazzling way, hypnotizing Medic to no end. When she approached him, he sat up to greet her with his usual charm but was surprised to see how energetic she already was.

“What?” Medic grinned, watching as she turned all about in the water.

The woman’s eyes met his again and she waved her hand at him in a beckoning motion, ready to start the day with an enthusiastic swim. He watched her movements quietly for a moment before it dawned on him, realizing her intentions with a guilty smile.

“I’m very sorry, my dear, but this is more for the purpose of taking in sunlight than going swimming I’m afraid,” he explained, “Perhaps another time.”

As proof of his innocence, he added a cheerful grin to appease her but found himself sinking a bit further into discomfort when he saw her deflate the way she did. That is, when the siren realized that he wasn’t going to swim with her after all. Even the glimmering light of her scales seemed to dim as she stared dejectedly at her friend. It bothered him to a certain degree knowing that she was unhappy because of him, and that manifested itself in perhaps an unexpected way for the both of them. Ludwig scoffed, narrowing his eyes as his arms folded across his chest.

“Don’t tell me you pout every time you don’t get your way,” he chided, “I’m sure you must have better things to do than bother me, Ja?”

The woman’s eyebrows creased with confusion at the man’s sudden coldness, scattering what few shards of patience were left intact. Fixing him with a glare of her own, she drifted towards the rocks, happy to disappear and grant Ludwig the precious solitude he so deeply desired. He stared at the sand, feeling suddenly quite overwhelmed with guilt and shame for how he had acted. Just before the siren could disappear beneath the calm waters and return to the treacherous depths, Ludwig hesitantly reached out his hand, calling out for her.

“Wait,” he stammered, his voice hardly conceivable over the sound of the tide. To his unfounded relief, the siren stopped. Though her back was still turned towards the man, her head turned ever so slightly to the side.

“I’m very sorry,” Ludwig added quietly, “just please don’t go.”

Daring, perceptive eyes met the sorrowful voice that echoed behind her, coaxing the mermaid’s withdrawn attention back to the man on the shore. Water rippled across the surface when she drew close to him once more, staring up into his hopeful eyes from the comfortable perch of a rock. He shifted, sitting across from her as the summer sun bore steadily down on his face. The siren couldn’t help but smile a little to herself, finding the man’s thinking face to be quite silly in a multitude of ways. Finally, Ludwig shrugged his shoulders, laughing slightly as he gave into the pull inside of him.

“I can be quite a brute, can’t I?” He asked, casting a playful glance over her. She huffed, nodding vehemently. Though, Ludwig found her slight smirk comforting, if not almost alluring.

“Alright then, I’ll bite,” he said, leaning forward with a wicked grin, “Let’s say that I relent in this idea of yours and join you in the water. Who’s to say if I can trust you?”

The woman’s eyes brightened, her bothered expression cracking to once more glow with hope. She looked around fervently, a placating habit of hers that often occurred when she was trying to conjure something she’d forgotten. She had been taught by the old man at the bookstore a strange way that humans made promises—a ritual that baffled but intrigued her all the same. Having been struck again with the memory, her eyes snapped once more to meet Ludwig’s, filled with fire and gentle excitement. She propped her elbow up on the rock, her hand extended to him with all of her fingers curled into a fist with the exception of her pinky. Ludwig glanced, dumbstruck, at the gesture. Never once in his life had he been offered a “pinky swear” as assurance of his own life. He found himself practically falling over with laughter the second it occurred to him, leaving the siren even more unamused than she had been before. Wiping a tear from his eye, Ludwig took her up on the offer before she could retract it—hooking his pinky with hers and nodding coolly to affirm the pact. She nodded in turn, happy to see that he was finally taking it seriously. When the two pulled away from one another, the siren’s beautiful smile returned, which gnawed at Ludwig’s bitter spirit to no end. She drifted away from the rock, giving him plenty of room to step into the water however he liked.

Ever the cautious one, Ludwig tucked his glasses into the pocket of his shorts—to the siren’s absolute joy. He waded through the shore and into the water, grateful that the summer months made the crisp water all the more bearable. Before he could submerge his upper body into the water, he shook his head with a laugh.

“I don’t think I need this,” he muttered to himself, pulling the shirt her wore over his head and casting it without a second thought back on the sand. The siren was glad that the human was finally making sense for once, having only needed to wear garments while exploring the town.

She glimmered with excitement as she met him there in the water, circling him with slight curiosity as she estimated the strength of his swimming capabilities. He watched her movements with a great deal of softness in his eyes, a faint smile on his lips at the sight of her happiness. Who knows how long it had been since someone had joined her in her realm of life? Timidly, she reached her hand out to him, watching his furtive gaze meet her own. He tensed, and the siren believed for a moment that he was going to deny her. Ever the unpredictable one, however, he rekindled the light in her chest when he reached out his own hand and intertwined it with hers. He was just fine with letting her guide him around to wherever she wanted, whether that was splashing around by the rocks or gazing intently at the clouds. The siren was thankfully perceptive of humans’ ineptness in water, and didn’t try to drag Ludwig anywhere that would be too deep for him. That is, until he posed her a very interesting question indeed.

“This has been undoubtedly enjoyable, and I thank you for that,” Ludwig said, “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about one thing: where is it that you live?”

The siren’s eyes flickered to the small gap of water between them, filled to the brim with unsaid thoughts and musings. When they met Ludwig’s once again, she nodded back over her shoulder to the expanse of rock formations stretching from the shore.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow,” Ludwig told her, tilting his head as he followed her gaze to the mineral deposits. Her hand squeezed his, returning Ludwig’s attention to the crux of the matter.

The siren held up a finger, perhaps telling him to hold tight for a second before she closed her eyes.

The waves had a delightfully mysterious way of moving when it came to her. It was if the water breathed as she did, like it had a pulse stronger than any man or animal that lurked within our outside of it. It seemed to churn around her, moving softly as she rocked against the tide. Ludwig found her deep concentration mesmerizing, unwavering in his patience even when the very reality of his world began to shift around him. The churning, sparkling waters around him began to shift and crack, like it was parting for an unseen but powerful force. He watched with sheer amazement as droplets of water floated and grouped in the air, creating a dazzling rainbow of light through the rotating tide between them. He found that he was finally able to steal his eyes away from the magnificent sight when a slight pressure ran across his skin. The water was flowing around and on top of him, and yet, he couldn’t feel its touch. Between Ludwig and the waves that would’ve otherwise devoured him was a thin layer of very powerful and continuously flowing air. Not only did it separate him from the water, but it somehow succeeded in making breathing underwater possible.

Shocked, Ludwig’s eyes trailed from the soft hand that squeezed his to the woman it belonged to, who smiled just as sweetly at him as she had done before. An unmistakable thrill sparked in his heart, deafening his voice of reason as the siren pulled him deep, deep down into the dark waters below.

Chapter Text

The depths were warm and gentle with every slight movement, entrancing Ludwig with every flicker of rapidly disappearing sunlight that streamed through the malleable surface. He watched it go with a bittersweet feeling in his heart, longing for the familiarity of the surface but equally eager to discover what was new down below.

What was unexplored—not yet bastardized by the human touch.

The siren’s grip on his hand was gentle, surprising him once more with its softness as she gently led him through her infinitely spanning abode. What he could not fathom, however, was the way in which she swam with such ease and grace underwater. Of course, it made sense, considering that was her home, but something about her smooth and flawless way of flowing through the current really mystified him.

The two went through formations of rock and mineral deposits. Ludwig soaked in every detail with an awe-struck look in his eyes, regardless of how bad his eyesight was without his glasses. The fish were so colorful, and he enjoyed watching them dart in and out of their colorful coral homes. It was like a hypnotic, blurry kaleidoscope.

The waters were quiet, though, save for the lazy flutter of swishing fins and crackling ambience. The woman looked back at him frequently, casting a warm smile in his direction to affirm that everything was just fine. She gave his hand a light squeeze before they made a steady, oblique ascent into a dark, narrow entrance of a cave. It looked out of place against the backdrop of an aqua sea, a singular void of discord in all of that perfectly-woven pattern. As they passed through its gleaming, dark opening, Ludwig’s eyes widened as the water around him began to change.

The temperate had dropped ever-so-slightly, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. He could tell that they were nearing the surface, but perhaps they were beneath a ledge or overhang that drenched the water in shade.

In almost no time at all, a gust of cold air shook Ludwig to his core when he finally broke through the pitch-black water, free from its pull at last in the safety of a star-lit cavern.

Blue, stupefied eyes gazed up at the dark ceiling, in which countless priceless gems glowed a soft teal—as if they pulsed with a singular, brilliant heartbeat. They twinkled like pure epithelial rays of light, reflecting off of the water around them. Staring down at his own reflection, Ludwig could see that he, too, was surrounded by the gentle lights.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, hardly able to fathom another word.

He received a light squeeze of his hand in response, the siren infinitely proud and pleased to hear what he thought of her home. She turned to him, momentarily confused about why he was stubbornly rubbing his eyes and blinking so much.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I’m having a hard time seeing in the lowlight. It truly is breathtaking, though, my dear.”

The siren tilted her head, remembering with slight sympathy that the man couldn’t see without his damned spectacles. She always found herself pitying the humans and their inability to see the beauty of the ocean, whether it was because of their useless eyes or not.

Then, like a flash, she remembered something that rather excited her.

Sirens had a multitude of magical abilities, you see, and her prowess in the power of healing was certainly nothing to scoff at—even in comparison to the mad doctor himself. She was a bit out of practice, considering her isolation from other sentient creatures throughout her life, but she knew of a few tried-and-true enchantments that could fix a plethora of problems. They were her birthright, a skill that she could simply do—like a bird flying or a caterpillar eating leaves for her inevitable transformation.

The siren smiled, a determined spark of confidence alight in her soul. She pulled Ludwig a bit closer, much to his surprise, and gently cupped his face in her hands. She stared into his eyes for a moment, enamored by the curious look of awe within them. She could hear his heart beating faster, a melodic sound that brought a smile to her face. Though his slight stubble was rough beneath her palms, she didn’t mind it at all.

Suddenly, the siren tilted her head upwards, pressing her lips to the side of his right temple in a short but equally gentle manner, pulling away almost as quickly as she had approached him. Her hands ghosted the top of his shoulders, though he could hardly still feel her touch from within the fuzzy silence of his brain. His skin warmed beneath her fingers, his face turning a surprisingly bright shade of pink when he subconsciously reached his hand up to trace the spot in which he was kissed. It tingled, almost like the bubbles in a soft drink. A slight gasp escaped his lips, unsure of what to say in response to the unexpected turn of events.

Looking up at the make-shift stars, he found himself if not more amazed by the fact that the image was slowly coming into focus. He blinked, rubbing his eyes hard before he opened them to witness the dazzling sight before him. The cavern seemed brighter, and he was just now noticing the pure variety of delicate stones—the most precious rubies, sapphires, jades, and diamonds he had ever seen. They were absolutely divine in their own right, but the ceiling and its harvest were not the true apple of his eye.

Even though he had seen the siren plenty of times before, she looked all the more lovely among these vibrant lights. Her bewitching eyes, her winsome smile, her delightful laugh, and every detail of her magnificent form was just divine. Even surrounded by the most precious jewels in all the land, he couldn’t care less for such mortal treasures. He had never been one to care about greed or fortune in the first place. But this?

She was incredible.

“You can heal people?” He whispered, starstruck.

She shrugged a little bashfully, grabbing and turning his wrist to gently tap the face of his watch.

“Ah,” he understood, “It’s a temporary fix.”

She nodded, though she was still very pleased that he still looked at her with such admiration. It was almost hard to believe that he wanted to kill her some time ago.

They spent a while floating around in the otherworldly pool of stars, silent except for the gentle echo of dripping water. Ludwig couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like to live in such a place, though he could only come to the conclusion that it must be a lonely existence. Such a wonderful sight, but with no one to share it with.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” He asked, turning his head to meet the mermaid’s sweet gaze. She hummed her agreement before staring up at the walls with a far-away look in her eyes.

‘So it’s just as I thought,’ Medic concluded.

He couldn’t help but frown at the implications of such a thing. Living in the bay of an island full of people that wanted to kill you is hard enough by itself—coupled with the lack of company and interaction, though, it really must’ve been quite a dreary existence until he came about. Though, he didn’t want to seem arrogant for thinking that way.

The siren turned back to her friend, alerted by his silence, and smiled warmly at him. He returned the gesture with a soft laugh, shaking his head. He couldn’t even begin to wonder how she was so carefree.

It eventually came time for the two of them to return to the surface, wrapped in a promise that they would return together some other time. Besides, Medic’s miraculously improved eyesight was already beginning to decline once more.

He crawled back on the sand of the beach with a deep breath, grateful to be surrounded by open air and solid ground again. He wiped away the droplets of water that clung to his body with the shirt he had discarded on the shore earlier, returning the glasses to his face with equal satisfaction.

The siren watched quietly from the water a few paces away from him, a bittersweet feeling in her chest that he would leave her again. He noticed this, too, and couldn’t ignore the slight pang of unwillingness in his own heart. His eyes darted quickly between her and his home, a small idea dawning upon him while a smile crossed his features.

“My dear,” he said hopefully, a gleam of sheepishness in his voice, “If you are inclined to, I would be very honored to have you as a guest in my home as well. Since you were so polite as to show me yours, of course.”

The woman’s eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty etched into her expression before she decided to just throw caution to the wind and live a little.

She grinned at him, nodding fervently. Ludwig perked up at her response, suddenly fighting with himself internally for not tidying up his house earlier. He was a bit too eager to care about that, though, as he just as quickly offered out his hand to the woman.

She stared at his upturned palm, her eyes softening with mirth before she accepted his offering. Ludwig’s hand felt warm when it encompassed hers, pulling her form out of the water and supporting it on her newly-formed human legs. She clung to him with a soft laugh, stumbling around a bit on the sand while Ludwig furiously tried to avoid looking in her direction. He cleared his throat, locating the cache of clothes she stored behind a rock and handing them to her. With her hand still intertwined with his, she was joyfully guided through the human realm with a skip in her step and a rather fantastic man on her arm. She’d never been invited into a home before, and it would be an understatement to say she was flattered.

“You like birds, don’t you?” Ludwig mused, holding the door open for her.

And that was when the siren realized that even though she did like birds, that level of adoration was clearly incomparable to the man who the birds belonged to.

Chapter Text

Upon walking into the house, there were white, furious storms of feathers as far as the eye could see.

The siren stood frozen in the doorway, her starstruck eyes watching as a flock of doves exploded into the room upon the return of their keeper. The ceiling was an imperceptible image of movement that teemed with the tiny yet noisy creatures.

The siren clapped her hands, absolutely delighted at the sight of them. She stepped further into the center of the room, her face upturned while several doves made a temporary perch of her shoulders.

“Coo, coo,” they said, shouting at Ludwig for so promptly leaving them alone. For as disappointed in him that they were, the doves were equally glad he was back.

“Can you understand them?” He asked, tossing a grin over his shoulder before he set his various belongings on the table. Archimedes had already made quick work of claiming his usual spot on Ludwig’s shoulder, earning a couple loving scratches on the bird’s feathery head.

The siren nodded excitedly, beaming with adoration towards the sweet little doves that nestled in the outstretched palms of her hands. She ran her thumbs on top of their sleek, beautiful feathers and fell in love with the way they chirped and preened themselves. Such fascinating creatures didn’t exist on this side of the island, and there was nothing the siren loved more than finding something new.

Her unmistakably inquisitive eyes wandered up to the room around her, and it struck her all too suddenly that she had never been in a human abode before. A quick glance over her shoulder proved that Ludwig was a bit busy trying to placate the fidgeting flock, a stream of soothing words escaping him as he was ambushed on all sides by their flapping wings.The siren laughed a bit to herself, seeing him in such a state. The least she could do was help him out a little.

The woman took a deep, cautious breath, nearly dizzy by the wonderful smell of saltwater-laced air and cologne before she joined her hands close to her heart. The doves that wriggled in her palms began to calm as an undetectable, warm pulse seemed to reach off of her body. Her eyes fluttered closed, a smile on her lips when the hundreds of racing heartbeats in the room slowly calmed and steadied into a singular, quiet hum. When the siren opened her eyes, many of the birds had found a surface or nesting place upon which to sleep. Their sweet little heads nestled in the crooks of their puffy feathers, huddled together for extra warmth as they either dreamed peacefully or remained awake with half-lidded eyes. The woman, donning a satisfied smile, gently set the birds in her hands on top of a table so that they could rest. While their previous state of wild excitement was very cute in itself, a bit of calmness would do their flustered keeper some good.

Ludwig, mouth ajar, had seen how quickly the madness settled into utter tranquility, with even Archimedes burrowing into the crook of his neck with a tired little wiggle.

“Mein Gott,” he murmured, a dumbstruck silence in the air, “I’ve never seen them like this.”

The siren nodded, pleased, while she rocked on her heels and looked around the room. Her gaze wandered, eager to explore the unknown realm of this peculiar human.

“Ah, please, make yourself at home!” Ludwig called joyfully from the kitchen, “I’ll just be preparing some tea!”

The siren smiled, shaking her head to herself. What on earth is tea? She didn’t think it would really matter, so she happily accepted his invitation to probe deeper into the cozy little house.

Moving out of the main area, she wandered down a narrow hallway, admiring the way the soft carpet felt beneath her. She glanced at a dark, wooden table, where a plastic telephone blinked softly on top. She had no idea what exactly she was looking at, studying and twirling the curly cord of it between her fingers. The siren hummed, setting it down again.

‘Humans have odd treasures,’ she thought.

Though the hallway was dark with the light off, it mattered not to the woman. Her eyes were specifically equipped for peering into the depths, and they glowed eerily in the void as she traipsed into the room directly ahead of her.

Upon stepping inside, the siren’s nose tingled at the scent of sweet soaps and water. A clouded window that touched the ceiling on the furthest wall filled the room with cool light, enough for the woman to glance around and admire the simple yet lovely room. What especially caught her attention, though, was the elegant claw-footed bathtub below said window. She tilted her head, curious about what the purpose of such an object might be. She perched herself on the edge, staring with fascination at the spigot fixed to the end of the basin.

The siren’s fingers traced delicate lines across the sleek metal, coming to a stop when she grazed the polished marble handle of the spout. It turned slightly beneath her fingers, further piquing her curiosity and prompting her to turn it a bit more.The sound of something rushing through the pipes deeply jolted her, almost eliciting a startled cry before it was interrupted by the steady plink! plink! plink! of liquid spattering the cold porcelain.

A hand flew up to her face in shock, staring as a delicate stream of crystal clear water dribbled from the faucet to the bottom of the tub.

‘Ah!’ She thought, ‘So this is where the humans store their water!’

She laughed silently, amazed before she instinctively ran her fingers under the stream. Silvery scales blossomed up her arm upon the water’s shimmering touch, reminding the siren with a curt gasp that she should refrain from touching it—lest she be transformed back to her original form. With a tinge of sadness, she turned the faucet again and cut off the water. Besides, she didn’t know how Ludwig would feel about her snooping around the space in which he bathed in.

Her arms fell to her side, the siren’s bashfully racing thoughts replaced by slight confusion. Not a moment after wandering back into the hall, it would seem that she had found the master bedroom. The siren had no clue what to think of it—there was a cushy, springy mattress draped with lovely comforters. Horrified, the siren realized that she must’ve stumbled upon some sort of offering room—where humans could make their blood sacrifices to any cut-throat deity they believed in. Swallowing hard, she wondered if perhaps she had walked in on something she was not supposed to find. After all, he had invited her so kindly into his home. Surely it wasn’t for…nefarious purposes, was it?

“The tea is just about ready, Miss!” Ludwig’s voice called softly from the kitchen.

The siren jumped, her face paling as the air rushed out of her lungs. She set her nose to work, taking deep breaths in order to detect any sort of traces of blood in the room. She found none, which was relieving in a sense. But what if it lacked blood because…it needed some in the first place? The siren was on her guard again, switching rapidly between her instinctive need to distrust and her own personal nature of trusting. What a vicious, heart-pounding cycle it was.

A fluttering above the rafters rooted her to the floor, her eyes flickering upwards to spot what had just moved. Another gentle rustling sound stirred her into bouts of fear until her gaze turned to a small object that drifted down from the ceiling. Hesitantly, she outstretched her hand, where the small feather made its graceful landing.

‘Ah,’ she thought with a sigh of relief, ‘It’s just another bird.’

She beckoned it down with a soothing whistle, enamoring the little bird with her tune. Its wings beat softly through the air before the speckled dove landed gently on the siren’s outstretched hand.

Her eyes widened, cradling the bird to her face with a joyful smile. What a lovely bird! Unlike the others, which tended to run on the side of plain ivory white, this particular dove had beautiful tan spots upon her breast and face. Her tail feathers were also mottled with a peppering of the marks. The siren ran a thumb over the bird’s soft head, humming softly with delight.

“I hope you don’t mind peppermint tea!” Ludwig chirped, appearing behind her.

The woman was deeply startled, nearly dropping the poor dove as she leapt forward. The doctor was oblivious about what he had done, staring with slight concern at the siren before his expression lit up with understanding.

“Hmm, did I scare you?” He smiled nervously, “My deepest apologies.”

The siren stood ram-rod straight, watching Ludwig with tense shoulders and unblinking eyes as he moved past her with two saucers and teacups in his hands. He sat at the edge of the bed, setting the delicate porcelain on the sheet’s smooth surface before patting the spot next to him for the woman to sit down.

‘So he wants me to sit willingly upon his altar?’ The siren’s thoughts stormed fearfully, ‘With those cups full of libations?’

“Hmm?” Ludwig tilted his head, noticing the way in which she trembled in place, “It’s just where I sleep! No need to be afraid.”

The woman’s brows furrowed, glancing down at the little dove in her hands before hesitantly stepping towards the bed.

‘Is it really?’ She pondered, ‘That’s where humans sleep?’

As if to confirm it for herself, she carefully sat down in the spot next to the doctor. The plush surface equally amazed and pleased her, surprised at the way in which humans enjoyed their luxuries. Oh, to sleep in a bed!

“Here,” Ludwig said cheerfully, moving to pass her a teacup. Then, he noticed with slight surprise what she held in her hands.

“My stars, is that a dove? I didn’t know she was in here,” he noted.

The siren smiled down at the small creature, which had promptly fallen asleep under the water nymph’s silent spell.

“Perhaps we should name her,” Ludwig offered, leaning in closer to get a better look. The siren felt her face grow warm again when he got near, unable to tell if she felt nervous or appeased with his scent and body heat intertwining with her own.

“What about…Hydrangea?” He suggested.

The siren eyed him warily, not thrilled. He reddened, chuckling apologetically.

“I’ve never been good at naming things,” he admitted, pushing his glasses up from the tip of his nose. The two watched the bird preen itself with silent affection, Ludwig’s mind wracking itself for a fitting name. He glanced briefly over at his bedside table, where a stack of books remained untouched since their recent unpacking. The book that sat on top, its worn cloth cover already dulling with age and well-meaning hands, was called Caterina, by one “Bridget Boland”. It was by no means a super famous book, but he had been intrigued at its coat of arms and happily plucked it off the shelf of a nearby thrift store.

“What about Bridget?” He asked, “Or do you prefer Caterina? Or…Boland, perhaps?”

The siren glanced at him, a twinkle in her eyes that said ‘stop rambling, you’ll wake the bird.’

“Bridget, then,” Ludwig nodded.

The siren smiled, concluding that ‘Bridget’ would do quite nicely.

The two watched Bridget’s feathered body wriggle and chirp softly, waking from the woman’s spell with a flutter. She seemed content to stay where she was, though, taking favor of the siren’s gentle touch. Ludwig couldn’t help but beam at the sight, his heart warming at the fondness in her eyes. He could’ve stayed in that restful state forever, but found himself swelling with surprise when a weight pressed lightly into his arm. A furtive glance showed that it was the siren, resting her head with gentle affection on his shoulder while they watched the dove’s restless hopping together.

“Oh my,” Ludwig found himself whispering, “I think the tea might be getting cold.”

Was he feverish? He felt feverish. Perhaps some tea, then.

Ludwig hurriedly brought the cup to his lips, tipping it back in hopes of quelling the heat under his collar. The siren watched him do this, pulling away and grabbing her own teacup with slight uncertainty. Like this?

The siren noticed how his pinkie stuck out when he held the cup. Was that simply proper etiquette? She mirrored his posture, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a moment to smell its sweet, floral aroma. The porcelain cup was white with violet flowers on the side, though the liquid within was amber and smelled faintly of mint. Steam rose softly from its depths, enticing the siren to take a sip.

She winced, not realizing that the drink would be hot and nearly spitting it out. She managed to toss that urge aside, quickly pushing it down before she could make a fool of herself. The woman turned away from Ludwig for a moment, trying to save face as she wondered why humans go to such great lengths to torture themselves. Though, the more she thought about it, the actual taste wasn’t bad.

Intrigued, and after a moment of hesitant reflection to stare into the teacups contents, she brought it once more to her lips and had another try.

It had cooled a little more by then, allowing it to go down much easier. She rather liked it, actually, smiling softly with appreciation for its subtle and fragrant notes.

“Do you like it?” Ludwig asked softly, gazing at her from behind his own teacup. He seemed…flustered, but still eager to know.

The siren nodded, taking another sip with mirth and delight in her eyes.

“Oh, good,” Ludwig sighed, relieved. Her smile casted a spell on him he couldn’t explain, and he found himself almost wondering if his fluttering heart was the symptom of some sort of tropical island sickness. He cleared his throat, turning away from her.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

The two straightened, their postures going rigid as their heads subconsciously turned in the direction of the door. After a moment of fearful silence, Ludwig stood. His expression was dead serious, an unnerving shift from his previous contentment.

“Stay here,” he motioned, drifting into the hallway with steady strides. Visitors don’t come to private beaches, and he didn’t like the familiar crawl of danger that dug its icy hooks into his skin.

Through the glass door of his front entrance, he could see several figures shifting anxiously—their muffled talking bringing Ludwig to conclude that they were citizens, not intruders. Still, Ludwig was careful to double-check that the handle of his saw was within reach.

He opened the door, which swung with a slight creak before he stepped out to speak with the small group that had gathered there. He plastered a smile across his face, feigning a yawn and a stretch when he stepped into the summer breeze.

“How can I help you gentlemen today?” Ludwig asked, his eyes skimming to the salt-drenched bearded faces of the town’s many fishermen. A few of them still wore their caps and vests, having just returned from a long day’s shift.

“We hate to bother you, sir,” the tallest of them said, respectfully taking off his hat, “But if you don’t mind us askin’, we did see a wee bit of a commotion in the waves earlier. Been seeing the gulls act all fanatic-like. We wanted to make sure you were alright in case a storm passed through.”

“A storm?” Ludwig hummed, “No, I don’t believe so.”

“Well, you’re lookin’ to hunt a siren, aren’t ye?” A shorter one piped up, his worn features sunken in with grizzled mops of seaweed and spray.

“Mighty fine weather for it,” he advised.

It took a conscious effort for Ludwig not to subconsciously avert his gaze towards the house, a slight panic kindling within him at the mention of the siren.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” he nodded gratefully, “Those creatures won’t get far if I can help it.”

An approving chatter stirred from within the group, the men seemingly satisfied with his answer. Ludwig was by no means a shrimp of a fellow, so they felt better knowing that he could fend for himself.

“Seeing as you live around here, let me give you a word of advice,” the taller one said again, leaning forward. Ludwig could smell the pungent stench of fish-guts and grime emanating from the man’s body, but stood firmly where he was.

“They like to hang around by the rocks. That I know,” he said.

Ludwig’s brows furrowed, the skin on the back of his neck prickling with cold sweat. He knew that, too. Seeing as the fishermen knew that as well, the place the siren called “home” wasn’t safe in the slightest. The only silver lining was that she lived adjacent to a private beach, where the fishermen couldn’t cast their nets. Ludwig hoped that the siren was wise enough not to stick close to the island’s other rocky banks, lest she find herself on the business end of a bloody, rusted hook.

The fisherman seemed surprised by the sudden pallid sheen that washed over Ludwig’s face at the mental image of such a thing, putting a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t worry about a thing, lad,” the fisherman reassured him with a crooked smile, “Those beastly things can be bested by intellect. You’ve got a fighters spark in yer eye—we know you’ll get the job done.”

The other sailors agreed, bobbing their heads up and down with avid agreement. Ludwig managed to salvage his ruptured facade, nodding along with them while he forced out a friendly laugh.

“Thank you for the encouraging words. I do appreciate it,” he replied.

“Aye. We’ll be keepin’ ye in our thoughts. Stop by the pub if ye need us,” a sailor called over his shoulder, taking the hint and ushering the others off of the porch. They called out their final goodbyes, waving while they trailed over the path to town from whence they came.

In the newfound silence, Ludwig could hear the subtle pounding of his heart in his chest. The salty smell of the fish trade still lingered in the air, which he happily turned his back on when he walked inside again.

Ludwig’s boots thudded across the floor as he made his way to the bedroom, an uneasy feeling pent up in his shoulders. He had detected a change in the atmosphere as soon as he had stepped inside—for one, the birds were no longer nearly as calm. They resumed their usual hyperactivity, hopping from perch to perch in the kitchen to the tune of their unceasing squawking. He paid them no mind, rounding the hallway’s corner and stepping through the bedroom’s threshold.

He stayed frozen there for a moment. The siren was gone and the window was open. A light breeze carried on inside, facing the delicate and hot sands of the beach outside. The waves turned and roiled against the shore, the siren no doubt hidden somewhere within. Ludwig didn’t blame her for leaving, she should’ve been startled more than anyone upon the sailor’s arrival. He just wished that he had the chance to say goodbye first.

The window closed against the sill with a quiet thump, his hands pulling away from it with a sigh. The house was once more coated with a thick layer of silence, disregarding the birds in the main room.

Ludwig hummed, turning away from the window and stopping briefly to stare at the little bird that remained fast asleep on the desk by his bed. It would seem that Bridget, in her mistress’s absence, had taken to sleeping under Ludwig’s reading lamp.

He smiled softly at the sight, a pang in his chest bringing him to scoop the little dove in his hands.

“Don’t worry,” he cooed to Bridget, holding her close, “She’ll be back.”

He set the teacups aside, promising himself that he would take them to the sink later before he sat down again.

For what may have been minutes, or quite possibly hours, Ludwig silently stroked the delicate speckled feathers of Bridget’s tail, gazing with a painful feeling of absence and longing out the window—staring at the ever-turning sea.

‘Perhaps’, he thought, ‘I shall make tea more often.’

Chapter Text

Another crumpled-up ball of paper in the bin. Another cup of coffee. Another long sigh followed by soft, indistinctive curse words. This was becoming a frustrating pattern for Ludwig as of late, you see, and ever since the siren had returned to the ocean sometime during the sailors’ visit, Ludwig has been toiling over the surface of his kitchen table.

The old tome of Celtic mythology he had picked up from the bookstore was open on the table before him, flipped to a yellowing page with its small, ink-blotted print. He’d been attempting to cross reference the book and the odd spread of papers placed deliberately around him. A map, or something like it, was his goal. The book was written solely in the Old Irish language, with some references and entries even written in Ogham. Ludwig couldn’t understand modern Gaelic as it was, which made the process much more complicated. Using his current knowledge of the island and the occasional picture that the text provided, he was able to piece together everything just a little bit at a time. Although, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was so much missing—after all, there were still a lot of blank spots in the “old world.” Ludwig was almost tempted to walk through the dense, murky night and up to the pub, where he could ask the sailors for some assistance in translating parts of the book. He didn’t want to do that, though—Ludwig was stubborn when it came to asking for help—and so he resigned himself to sitting there under the kitchen’s swinging light, perplexed.

Soft wings flapped in the air before they settled again on a perch just out of sight. Ludwig turned to look over his shoulder, the sharp blade of spite in his throat dying away when he laid eyes on sweet Bridget. She was meandering around the rafters of the house, having abandoned her secluded nest in search of her aquatic soul sister. Even now, when she was settling into a warm ball of feathers betwixt the other birds, her beady eyes still roamed across the room down below.

Ludwig hummed, taking a deep, calming breath. He decided that it would be best to simply take a break and sleep for a while. The following day would give him ample time and natural lighting to continue his work. Besides, he would need a rested pair of eyes to do it.

The pen was laid stiffly across the stack of papers, the living room going dark with a quick snap of the light switch. Quiet fluttering and the dim glow of the hallway’s lamp were the only things that Ludwig could recognize when he navigated his way back to his bed chamber. As he was about to disappear into the room, however, he was stopped abruptly by what sounded like a dull tapping. It had come from the living room, but the sound most certainly wasn’t one a dove could make. Ludwig tensed, his head cocked to the side and his body still.

The tapping came again. Quickly, and in a group of four.

Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

Tap!

It didn’t sound urgent—rather tentative in fact—but Ludwig was slipping back into his old habit of finding something to arm himself with. Calmly and with impenetrable precision, he slinked back into the living room with a straight razor in hand. Behind his back, It’s wooden handle felt cold pressed into the palm of his hand. When he approached the window, he narrowed his eyes to see past the slight glare of the light behind him. A familiar silhouette was peering behind her at the waves, her fingers laced in front of her with sheepish uncertainty before Ludwig raised the windowpane. She turned, meeting his welcoming grin with one of her own.

“My dear?” He said, feeling the calm saltwater breeze echo through his home, “What a pleasant surprise!”

Leaning against the sturdy, wooden frame, Ludwig brought himself closer towards her. She did the same, gingerly setting her hands on the wood and standing a bit on her tip-toes to meet him.

“Would you perhaps like some more tea? A chamomile blend could do wonders for your sleep,” Ludwig offered, looking over his shoulder at the darkened kitchen. The woman seemed a bit distracted, though, staring out at the sea with a distraught frown. A storm was brewing; the thrashing waves and eerie silence of the air were a testament to that. There were no more tropical birds singing and the shops in town had boarded up their windows.

The siren’s shoulders jolted, her hands recoiling from the sill and clutching her palm to her chest. A silent cry escaped her, filling Ludwig with immense alarm when silvery drops of blood trickled lazily down to her elbow. The splintered wood had caught her, and the pain was quite foreign, but the cut was thankfully shallow.

Breathless, Ludwig found himself lurching through the window—grasping the woman’s hand and pulling it to him. The calloused tips of his fingers brushed against her skin, his warmth dulling the pain’s edge. She gazed aside, perhaps a little ashamed but equally glad while he looked her over.

“Please, please, it will do you no good to stand out in the cold,” he murmured, nodding towards the glass door to his right. The woman nodded, walking around to the entrance with her hand cradled gingerly within the other. Ludwig ushered her inside, troubled about her injury but likewise grateful to see her again. He beckoned her towards the couch before he started rifling through a drawer for his supplies, pausing for a moment to wonder if human ointments and salves had any use for siren-related injuries. He let the thought roll off his back, though, ambling over to the sofa and taking a knee in front of the moderately confused woman.

With gentle prodding, she slipped her hand into his. The splash of warmth that flushed her face and neck was rather becoming of her, and Ludwig found himself focusing a little too eagerly on the bleeding palm before him so that he couldn’t lose himself in her eyes.

Carefully, almost reverently, he plucked the few remaining splinters from the wound with whispered words of courage—applying an anti-bacterial ointment and waterproof gauze around the shimmering skin. The woman had gritted her teeth then, surprised by the sting that soon ushered in cool relief. Her wound was clean and already beginning to mend in wondrous ways as Ludwig packed up his things once again.

“I may not be a siren,” his thoughtful voice mused through the air, “But I believe that some traditions may be worth following.”

He ran his thumb against the delicate softness of her hand, turning it over and carefully bringing it to his lips.

The siren’s breath hitched, a quiet sigh that nearly sent her body into a state of pleasantly tingling shivers. His steely and calm eyes rose to meet hers when he had kissed her hand, his burning gaze not unlike that of the merciless sun. She turned her head to the side, perhaps in an attempt to hide her own delighted shock. To say she was discontented when Ludwig pulled away from her would be an understatement—though, him whisking away to the kitchen did give her the opportunity to fan some of the burning heat away from her face.

“The tea will take just a moment to steep, Meine Süße,” he called cheerfully from beside the cupboard, “I do apologize for the wait.”

The siren waved the notion away with a bashful smile, a gesture he returned with a coy wink. The man was a troublemaker, the siren reasoned, so of course he must’ve known the way is sly flirtatiousness was whittling away at her ability to maintain an unwavering front. She almost wanted to turn up her nose at such behavior, if not just to have the last laugh, but even that was made useless by her quickening pulse. The back of her hand still seemed to tingle from the ghost of his ticklish stubble and alluringly sharp scent of aftershave. She was confused by how much she wished the moment had been longer.

Bridget had taken notice of her best friend’s return all too joyfully, swooping down from her flock to say hello. The flicker of speckled feathers in the corner of the siren’s eye brought a flurry of excitement to her heart.

‘Sweet Bridget,’ she thought, balancing the little bird on her finger, ‘Did you miss me?’

The dove sang and swooned in the woman’s hand, overjoyed of their reunion. And the woman’s gentle laugh seemed to carry through the air as smooth as silk, carrying Ludwig on a light-footed rhythm back into the living room with an ornate silver tray. A charming tea set was perched gracefully atop its reflective surface, which he took care not to set down too quickly on the low table.

“Shall we?” He asked, eyeing her for a moment with flustered admiration before he methodically tipped the glass teapot forward. Each cup was filled to the top with golden chamomile, though his slightly shaking hands didn’t leave the tray unscathed of a couple stray drops. Ludwig prided himself on never having shaky hands, and yet everything in his body that he had honed to become strong crumbled like sand beneath that astounding smile of hers.

The siren nodded, mindfully picking a teacup off of the tray and letting it cool for a moment in her hands. Ludwig did the same, keeping his eyes on the amber liquid within and the floral notes that mingled in the steam.

The woman found the blend quite pleasing, enjoying the way her muscles eased and the corners of her mind were softened with the impending promise of sleep. She hummed, setting down the empty cup and stroking Bridget’s feathers. The bird had settled into the crook of her neck, a sight that Ludwig had been too shy to admit he adored. Archimedes had taken up a perch atop his shoulder and was perhaps eyeing the siren with a tinge of jealousy if they weren’t mistaken.

Stars winked and glimmered outside. The tide roared and lapped the shore, spitting up shells and scuttling things that danced through the surf. The siren gazed towards the window, happy to spend this precious time with those she cared about.

“My dear,” Ludwig began a bit cautiously, setting his empty cup down on its saucer, “I beg your pardon if I am out of line for asking, but I’ve been told by the bookkeeper that you’re in search of something.”

Ludwig wasn’t sure what he was expecting the siren’s reaction to be. Perhaps she would glare or storm away with a scoff for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but she did nothing of the sort. As a matter of fact, she did hardly anything at all other than keep her eyes on the world outside the window. She nodded, its subtlety perhaps an indicator of either determination or regret. Ludwig could not tell which.

“If there’s a way I can help you,” he found himself saying, “Then I will—you need only to ask.”

The woman was a bit surprised, turning back to face him with eyes full of wonderment. They fell to her hands, which Ludwig had unknowingly taken into his own. A tiny smile that carried perhaps a hundred meanings crossed her lips, her eyes full of warmth.

It was growing later and later, the hands of the clock turning and turning. Each passing hour felt like only a fleeting moment, a grain of sand in the hourglass.

“If I may be so bold,” Ludwig said, taking note of the billowing wind outside, “Would you perhaps like to stay the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, of course.”

He was flustered, already mentally kicking himself for saying something so ridiculous and spoiling the moment, but the woman brightened at the idea. She nodded, invigorated by the opportunity to try something so perfectly human—sleeping in a bed. Normally she’d sleep beneath the star-lit gems of her cavern, but as they say: when in Rome, do as the Romans do.

Ludwig provided a pair of shorts and a t-shirt—which were a bit too big—for her to wear as pajamas, and she emerged from the bathroom with her hands out at her sides as if to say “look, look!” She beamed at him, silently joining in on his laughter. He wasn’t prepared to see something that adorable, chortling with a mental note to perhaps get her some better-fitting clothes if she were to stay over again. What could he say? Her grin was absolutely contagious.

Eventually, he got ready himself. He made sure all the birds were properly “tucked in” to their perches in the living room before he moved some sheets and pillows into the living room for himself. The woman was a bit sheepish about taking the bed for herself, but Ludwig wouldn’t hear it and insisted that she was a guest and therefore deserved to take his room.

“Goodnight, my dear,” he yawned, standing to meet her in the hallway when all the lights were turned off. The woman found it cute how sleepy he looked, with his usually so graceful form swaying and tilting almost as if he were about to tumble over himself. She carefully reached up her hand, perhaps not noticing the gentle surprise on his face when she caressed his cheek in her uninjured palm. Something about the slight roughness beneath her fingers made her feel flustered all over again—the ghost of its memory reminding her of the way he kissed her bandages. She nodded her goodnight to him, letting her hand fall back to her side before she traipsed back to his bedroom—leaving him alone and confounded in the hallway.

The sheets were velvety and plush beneath her touch, shifting and swirling around her when she lied down the bed. Bridget cooed softly beside her, nesting in the crinkled blankets that the siren willfully entangled herself in. Such inviting textures and feelings flowed around her, and she was happy to accept their pulls. The siren knew it was a bit silly that she had mistaken such a thing for an altar, but she certainly did feel like royalty of some sort upon it.

The minutes melted and faded away into nimble seconds, the dark and soundless night unstirred while the two who resided in the shoreside house were blanketed in stars and sleepy chamomile dreams.

Chapter Text

A new day bathed in sunshine slipped into the island while it peacefully slept, illuminating crowded bedrooms and leaving behind the sweet scent of the sea. The morning was made new again, and the siren awoke when the shifting beams of light touched her skin. Bridget was still nested firmly beneath the scattered pillows, only rousing when the siren moved slowly and carefully out of bed.

She wasn’t sure what the matter was, but she felt incredibly unwell. Her legs could hardly keep her standing upright as she stumbled out of the bedroom, clutching her neck as she desperately struggled to breathe. She could feel the skin beneath her fingers tightening while the sensation of jagged edges prodded her from underneath, like her true scales were trying to break through the delicate flesh.

Ludwig was occupied in the kitchen, whistling to himself while he cracked a few eggs into a pan. He heard the siren’s approaching footsteps but they sounded erratic—like she was nearly tripping over herself. His brows furrowed, pausing for a moment to listen over the sounds of oil leaping out of the pan. He heard a faint groan and turned the stove off without a moment’s hesitation, running out of the kitchen to meet her in the living room. She had almost sank to the floor before he gathered her up in his arms, watching the colors of her rapidly appearing scales pulse and listening to her fluttering heartbeat.

“Schatz?” He asked, breathless, “What—“

She clung to him, trying desperately to push herself into some direction but unable to. Then Ludwig seemed to understand, picking her back up again with a quick nod before dashing down the hallway. The doves flew around their perches, startled awake by the sound of their keeper’s footsteps.

Sunlight streamed through the mosaic glass of the bathroom’s window, casting little slivers of rainbow on the white painted walls. The cold porcelain of the basin filled with water as fast as the faucet would allow it, drenching Ludwig’s sleeves when he gently lowered the siren inside. He helped her pull the borrowed garments over her head and off of her legs just before they could constrict the shift, with Ludwig kneeling on the floor beside the tub as they both awaited some sort of change. She tried to pull her tail closer to herself, embarrassed that she had unintentionally pushed quite a bit of water onto the floor.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, leaning over the side and pulling her into his arms, “it’s alright.”

She shivered, welcoming his embrace. The siren rested her head in the crook of his shoulder, gasping silently as the air returned to her. They were both out of breath, holding onto each other as Ludwig combed his fingers through her hair.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her temple, “I’m here.”

She sighed, still holding firmly onto his sleeves before her grip diminished. The siren was alert now, gathering her bearings and regarding Ludwig with an apologetic frown. He hated to see the siren’s eyes so full of pain, gently tucking her hair behind her ear and giving her the most honest smile he could muster.

“So you’re able to live in fresh water as well, yes?” He asked her, relieved to see the tension ease from her shoulders. The siren nodded, realizing rather sheepishly that she was probably invading his personal space. She parted from him, studying the newly recovered scales that traced up her body. When Ludwig leaned over to turn off the faucet, she motioned for him not to trouble himself. With a simple wave of her hand the water ceased to flow from the spigot, the metal dial turning off. He managed to resist the temptation of gawking at her, clearing his throat and busying himself with tracing lines against the lip of the tub with his fingertips. He felt helplessly, wonderfully breathless in the strangest of ways.

For a few minutes, the siren basked happily in the water around her, replenishing her body and mind. She reclined a bit, resting her head on the back of the basin with a contented sigh. Ludwig laced his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands, hoping inwardly that she wouldn’t turn and see him staring so blatantly at her tranquil leisure. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, and she smiled to see Ludwig still watching over her. She reached out to him, her fingers grazing his cheek before she gently plucked his glasses off of his face.

“You aren’t going to break them, are you?” Ludwig chuckled, though he’d be lying if he said he was sure she wouldn’t try.

The siren studied the spectacles in her hands, tilting them with an evaluating gaze as they caught the window’s delicate light. Then she hummed, smiling softly before she slipped them onto her own face, just as he had worn them. She turned at the sound of Ludwig’s outburst of laughter, confusion dawning across her features before he removed them, turned them the other way around, and put them back on her face.

“There,” he grinned, “But you can’t see out of them, remember?”

The siren glanced around the room, squinting before she nodded. But she didn’t seem to want to smash them in her palms anymore, which was a good sign. She propped her arms up under her chin just as Ludwig was doing, grinning at the way she made him laugh. But while they were having plenty of fun, they knew that what she needed was to be back in the ocean, where she’d have plenty of space and water to replenish her energy. So they decided on a simple course of action: the siren would use her remaining strength to harness a human form and they would run outside, bringing her back to the expectant tide before she could even begin to feel dizzy. The siren returned the befuddling pair of glasses before slowly pulling herself out of the water, grateful for the firm hand Ludwig offered in support. When she was on solid ground again, she leaned against Ludwig’s shoulder and allowed him to guide her down the hallway with a few murmured words of encouragement. When the glass back door opened, the salt-kissed wind beckoned them outside with open arms, down to the soaking sands of the shore and the grey waters that lapped at it. The siren looked back at their trail of footprints from the house, captured side by side, and couldn’t help but smile to herself. Ludwig escorted her to the edge of the tide, where the misty air was already beginning to raise the iridescent scales on her form. She glanced back at him as she stepped in, her legs changing not long after, before they found themselves in the same way in which they had first met—with her in the water and him on land.

Ludwig couldn’t help but frown a bit inwardly.

“I suppose this means that there’s a limit to how long you can stay on land,” He sighed.

She gave him a sympathetic smile and half a shrug to go with it. She knew it wouldn’t have lasted long anyway, but getting to spend a night pretending to be an ordinary human was the highlight of her life. Getting to wish Ludwig goodnight and bury herself beneath silken sheets with her dove friend felt so true—so honest. But in the end, the ocean was her home; whether she wanted it to be or not.

She opened her hand in a gesture to him, one that he smiled at but politely declined. He couldn’t go swimming quite yet. There were things in town that he had to get done, even though he would’ve much preferred staying.

“Later, my darling, I promise,” he told her.

Her hand fell a bit hesitantly, a pained but understanding pang of emotion hidden behind her playful gaze before she simply nodded.

Ludwig couldn’t bring himself to bid her goodbye for the time being, but he didn’t have to. She gave him a soft wave goodbye before she departed, dipping under the choppy surface of the waves and leaving him alone again on the beach.

He had a hard time bringing himself away from the spot in which he stood in, staring out at the water and watching the gulls circle departing freighters. He swallowed breaths of beaten wind before he turned his back to it all, treading up the steps to his home and disappearing without another word inside.

Chapter Text

The sea was laced with golden branches of orange and pink sunlight as the day crawled into a refreshingly beautiful early-evening. The siren had decided to spend those precious hours of perfect weather lounging around the calm waters of the shoreline, hanging near groupings of rock formations and keeping a safe distance from the beach-goers. She really only lingered around Ludwig’s side of the island when it pleased her, but she didn’t care to be over in that section at the moment. The water was chillier and there wasn’t as much room to swim around at these levels of tide. Besides, he was still up to whatever it is he did when she wasn’t around, so the siren happily went about her usual business by basking in the current on the sun-soaked side of the island.

And she did what she did best: observed.

The narrow cobblestone streets were congested with people milling about their business, the smell of smoked and skewered fish wafting up and down the island a fair bit more than usual. It was the third week of the month, a very special time in Botany Bay—all of the fishermen, merchants, and visiting sailors exchanged their goods and services while people from all walks of life partook in the salt-water slinging vendors and food stalls. The whole experience was dizzying and overwhelming, which was the main reason why the siren wasn’t joining them up on the mainland.  People often gave her strange looks when she stumbled into small crowds, with the occasional drunkard even fancying himself bold enough to grab her arm and ask about her relationship status. But she found the week that the port opened up to be wonderful nonetheless, peering at the humans as they marched down the bumpy terrain with a curious smile.

The siren had been swimming around the north coast for quite some time now, sunbathing far enough past the wake where people couldn’t see her. But she grew a bit bored and lonely out there on the water, so she decided to sate her craving for being nosy by slinking behind a rock and watching the swimmers out on the shoreline. They ran through the white-hot sand with colorful swim-ware, chanting and laughing while they chased each other and played all sorts of strange human games. She loved the thrill of it, trying to imagine the rules for each one as they unfolded before her. A part of her longed to be included in one of those games, perhaps the one where you had to chase and touch another person to win. She thoroughly enjoyed the fun of watching that particular game and how competitive the humans would get. The siren laughed softly when a young child stumbled and fell on his face, coating the poor lad in sand. But he stood up with the biggest of toothless grins and brushed himself off before the chase started all over again. She admired humans’ tenacity and sheer grit, something the siren mused upon as she scanned the beach for further activity. Her eyes drifted to what she assumed to be a couple, who were happily perched side-by-side on matching towels right in front of the water. The man’s hand drifted over the woman’s cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before he leaned in and planted a tender kiss on her lips.

Oh.

The siren’s face flushed, driving her to conceal the warmth in her cheeks by absently staring at the rock in front of her. She traced nervous lines across its mineral-encrusted surface with her fingers, wishing idly for the colder waters on the other side of the island. She had seen humans kiss before, of course, but it had never really left an impression on her until this point. The siren was used to dismissing it as just another odd ritual that humans felt the need to put on public display, but those judgmental and snide thoughts were flooded away with some rather fresh memories. For reasons she couldn’t explain, the siren was plagued with images of Ludwig; his fingers tracing across her cheek like that man on the beach had done—and the equally powerful conflict and desperation she had felt when he intertwined his fingers with hers and kissed the back of her hand. But the siren wouldn’t allow her thoughts to linger there much longer, lest she contract a fever that would never let up, so she ducked under the water and descended much farther from the sun’s burning reach.

Few humans can say that they’ve ever experienced the feeling of pressure turning across their bare skin underwater, many meters down, where it’s so calm that you could feel the heartbeat of the sea overlapping your own. The siren liked to imagine to herself that the unfortunate sailors who met a grisly, ship-wrecked demise at least spent their last few moments admiring the water. Perhaps they saw the sun reaching down for them, waiting to pull them up, up, and away so they could soar with the seagulls. It was a naive thought, but the siren wasn’t good at imagining things with unhappy endings—nor did she want to.

Though she was far beyond the grasp of open air, the woman’s mind still drifted back to the surface. She watched the gentle wiggle of air bubbles rise from her face and blinked against the light. One other thing that had always fascinated her about the beach was the small, rickety shack that stood against the far wall of the shore, it’s rotted planks and life preserver ropes standing against the test of time and weathering storms for as long as she could remember. There always seemed to be people coming and going from there, and the siren learned that the place was supposedly something called a “gift shop”. They sell all kinds of trinkets in there—plastic knickknacks and saltwater taffy, and the occasional piece of merchandise that ends up being blown or tossed into the ocean. The siren had always been infuriated about human’s blatant disrespect for the sea life, but didn’t have much power to stop them other than the ability to hurl their trash back at them on a wave. That had always been pretty satisfying. But what the siren thought about as she drifted around in the deep was something she had seen a lot from the people who emerged from the shop. Many of them paraded around with strange looking bangles on their wrists made of beads and chains and all sorts of charms. She had no concept of fashion or jewelry, but the siren saw through the way that the objects were often gifted that those bracelets were for “special someones”. She had seen mothers and fathers gift them to children, couples exchanging them with bashful smiles, or even just friends and best friends giving them to each other so they could commemorate the fun they had shared together by the seaside.

The siren had never had a special someone to give a bracelet to, but now?

She had an idea.

Naturally, she wouldn’t be going to the surface and buying one. That was out of the question given all the kids and teens running around with water guns out there and her scarce knowledge about how the hell currency works. What really mattered was the thought behind it, and she was already pushing herself through an uptake in current further away from the island—where the smarter aquatic life was able to avoid the danger of fishermen and poachers.

She felt the water slide off of her scales when she surfaced, taking a breath of refreshingly clean air before she bid the cawing seagulls farewell again and dove back into the depths. Her ears were fine-tuned for hunting, though she didn’t hunt. Her diet consisted of special fruits and plant life that could be found off the shore of the island’s beaches and coves, and the sight of humans eating fish often made her uneasy. But her senses came in handy if she was ever in need of a friend or ally, and soon she found herself happening across a few Indo-Pacific bottlenose dolphins. They clicked and jeered at her, joking about the way her pack had abandoned her before she silenced them with a well-placed glare. Bound to her will by a hum, their nerves settled until they were receptive to her silent communication.

She asked them if they had seen any garbage around lately.

You’ll have to be more specific, they replied, garbage falls down here all the time.

She rolled her eyes, huffing a bit.

Have you seen anything shiny? She rephrased.

That seemed to register with the dolphins at the very least, and their click trains echoed and popped all throughout the water as they circled around.

I’ve got hooks in my mouth, one dolphin told the siren, and they were making it hard for the dolphin to eat things. She frowned, her heart nearly breaking for the poor creature. She ran her hands across its back, soothing it with a few soft words before she removed the sharp intrusions as delicately as possible. A few drops of blood rose into the water, but the dolphin was otherwise alright. It seemed grateful without the obstruction, and was already feeling a bit better. The dolphin thanked her, and she was likewise grateful. In the palms of her hands, the little high-carbon steel hooks sparkled. She smiled as she admired them. When it came time to bid the tricky creatures farewell, she circled their group and departed with a small wave over her shoulder. They clicked and murmured as they all darted away, bonding as a group on the way to their next meal.

But the siren hadn’t finished her business there, though her dealings with the dolphins were done and over with. One of the up-sides of freeing that particular dolphin from its sharp troubles was the small bit of blood that had been released into the water. Though it was hard to find him because of the erratic hunting grounds of sharks, a little bit of sea-creature blood was a surefire way to call one of the siren’s friends, an old, grouchy, great white shark. And he arrived almost right after the dolphins had left, emerging from the dark beneath the siren with beady eyes and a temper to match them.

Hello, friend! She greeted him.

The food has gotten away, he noted.

That’s unimportant, she laughed, There’s plenty of fish in the sea.

But few as tasty as a dolphin, he argued.

Deciding that she would need to steer his mind from the thought of food, she decided to ask him for a favor.

Mr. Shark, she asked, is there anything shiny you might be able to give to me?

She showed him the hooks in her hands, and he understood.

I have a few teeth that are going to fall out, he told her, but he had no way of getting them out unless he were to bite into something—say, a dolphin perhaps.

Do that on your own time, she told him, because she could just as happily reach into his open mouth and grab a loose one herself.

Be my guest, he told her, and opened his mighty jaws. She ignored the bits of gore and guts that still clung to the knife-sharp jagged teeth that jutted out of his gums, reaching her arm right in and pulling at one that seemed like it was going to fall out. The water in his mouth was a bit warmer, and she had to reach far enough in that her shoulder had disappeared completely into the shark’s mouth. He made sure to stay still, not wanting to injure his friend’s delicate scales until she had successfully retrieved one of his nearly fifty teeth. It was large in her hands, with a jagged side like a dagger.

Such pearly white teeth! She told him. He seemed flattered and apologized that they hadn’t been a little cleaner. She brushed it off and gave him a grateful pat on the top of his nose before she said her goodbyes, nodding not-so-subtly in the direction which the dolphins had gone off too. To be fair, they had a head start. He swam away, his scarred, dark body turning and churning through the silent water as he prepared himself for a new feast.

Minutes later, the siren had reemerged into the gulf of the island’s other side—propped up on the same rock she had always favored above the rest. The air was fresh and rich today, breathing life into every moment while she hummed a quiet tune to herself. The siren’s tail glistened and swayed off of the rock’s edge as she braided bits of sea kelp and a few pulled strands of her hair together. The hooks held it all in place, bent into new shapes so that they couldn’t poke or scratch whoever wore it. Then, in the very center of the bracelet, the gleaming tooth of a great white shark hung in its rightfully proud and important place like a crown jewel. The siren held the bracelet up to the sun, a dazzling sort of joy roaring like a fire in her eyes as she took immense pleasure in what she had made. Behind her, up the way, the sound of a glass door opening gave her a short timeframe to hide it on her lap.

Ludwig stretched and yawned, his jet-black hair a little tussled from sleep. He was thoroughly enjoying the concept of afternoon naps, a privilege he hadn’t been able to afford while he was working at the base. His glasses were slightly crooked on the tip his nose, a sight that was becoming a bit endearing to the siren, and he traipsed down the steps with a cheerful grin upon seeing her waiting for him.

“Back so soon, Herzblatt?” He asked her, combing his fingers through his hair in a sheepish attempt to neaten it. She nodded quickly, the corners of her eyes upturning with delight. Then she waved for Ludwig to come closer, a motion that intrigued him considering one of the hands she kept hidden behind her back.

“Oh?” He teased, taking a seat on the sand in front of her rock and leaning a bit closer to her, “Is there something you wanted to give to me?”

She flushed, looking off to the side for a moment before she mustered up the courage to act. Hesitating for only a moment, the siren slowly reached out her hand and gingerly picked up his wrist.

Ludwig raised his eyebrows in a silent question, but said nothing.

Then, revealing what was in her other palm, she unclasped the handmade bracelet and gently wrapped it around him. When she let go of Ludwig’s hand, her hands fell softly into the crook of her lap while she waited with uncertain admiration and pensive excitement for his reaction.

His eyes held that alluring look of deep thought and inquisitive curiosity, and he turned his wrist toward and away from him over and over as he studied the bracelet.

“Did you,” he murmured, his eyes lifting with realization, “Make this for me?”

The siren was almost surprised that he had said anything at all, lured into the security of their silence before it was unceremoniously popped again.

She flushed a deeper shade, though she hadn’t the slightest idea why, and she turned away from him. The siren nodded, unable to contain the teensy smile that was getting bigger despite her attempts to stop it.

Ludwig was silent again, taken aback with that lopsided smile of his as he silently lauded at the treasure.

The woman turned her head, wanting to catch another glimpse of him admiring her handiwork but found that his gaze was elsewhere. His icy, knowing eyes cut firmly at her from over the top of his glasses, a tender sort of slyness in his smirk damn near tearing the air from her lungs.

“I’ve noticed,” he told her, his voice dropping a bit lower, “How beautiful you look with your face flushed like it is.”

The siren gasped, in shock at his words. But he only tipped his head back and laughed a cheerful, far-too-proud sort of guffaw at her reaction. Flustered and unable to think of how else to react, she just did the first thing that came to mind and slapped him clean across the face. Though her eyes were still full of alarm, she had that cute sort of pout that melted Ludwig’s heart every time he saw it. He hardly felt the sting even when it came, but that didn’t stop his glasses from flying right off of him in a comical arc. The siren’s hands flew up and covered her mouth in shock, her eyes still staring at him with mortification while that delightful turquoise blush spread down to her neck like a wildfire.

Then, after a beat of shocked silence between the two, another unbothered and smooth chuckle rose from Ludwig’s direction.

“…absolutely stunning,” he purred, rubbing the side of his face with a smirk.

The siren folded her arms, twirling a spring of hair around her finger while she stared out at the horizon, avoiding eye contact. To be fair, it was well deserved.

“Well,” Ludwig shrugged, retrieving his glasses from the sand and looking them over for any scratches, “Rest assured that no gift goes unrequited. I promise that I’ll make it up to you.” With that, he returned his spectacles to their rightful place and fixed her with a wink. She smiled a bit, already curious as to what he meant.

“It’s a surprise!” He said, practically reading her thoughts. She pouted again, but in a much more playful way. He snickered, returning to her side and leaning against her shoulder as they stared out at the sunset. They remained quiet for a few moments, with the siren admiring the beautiful colors of the sky while Ludwig was silently mustering his sincerity. In a soft, lovely voice, he spoke to her again.

“I like it very much,” he told her, holding up the bracelet to her, “Thank you for making it for me. Danke, Schön.”

The siren swished a bit of hair out of her face, nodding. She was calmer now, her posture more relaxed and a shy smile on her lips. Ludwig watched as the strand of her hair fell loose again and reached over, tucking it behind her ear with a well-meaning chuckle. Her face was warm, something that didn’t surprise him, but he was surprised at the fact that his face felt a bit warm, too.

Ludwig’s hand dropped back at his side and he turned again, looking out at the bay. He sighed, as did she, and they were both woven back into that calm sort of silence that the seagulls and tide filled with their respective songs. But he found himself drawn, as if by a magnet, to looking at the soft piece of jewelry that hung from his wrist—humming without sound, as if magic was coursing through every fiber. And when he was feeling especially bold, he’d peer at the siren out of the corner of his eye when it suited his mood. If he were lucky, he’d catch her looking at him, too. And they’d both smile a little, looking at one another, before they’d turn and stare out at the sky all over again.

Chapter Text

“Just lovely,” Ludwig simpered, stooping down and kissing the siren’s hand. She twirled sheepishly in her dress, the same one she had always worn on dry land. But she was flattered nonetheless by the compliment, rocking bashfully on her heels as she glanced over his shoulder. He had all but begged her to accompany him into town, where the merchants and pubs were still celebrating in full swing. A week like this only came once a month, so he wanted to get an authentic feel for the area at the height of its glory. For scientific purposes, of course. But he didn’t want to overwhelm the siren with too large of a crowd, so he made sure to wait until the sun began to set on the clear horizon before he made his way down to the crystalline waters of the beach. The siren waited patiently for him to arrive, staring out at the fading colors of the sky as she ran her hands through her hair.

Ludwig offered his arm out to her, one that she accepted by hooking her arm through his own. She allowed him to pull her close into his side, looking up with a teasing smile when she noticed his avoidant gaze. He cleared his throat and guided them to the pier, stepping across the bridge with wistful awe. The water was still and calm, reflecting the terraces of the stacked terracotta houses around the edge. They passed people of all sorts on the bridge; couples, groups, and the occasional sailor stumbling a bit woozily after a few too many indulgences at the pub. But everyone was in high spirits, a fact reflected by the upbeat folk music that rose from the open doors of homes and businesses alike, filling the air with song, laughter, and the murmur of excited and hungry people searching for adventure. The siren was delighted, the promise of interaction and all that came from so far beyond her little coast seeming too good not to see for herself. She pulled Ludwig around by his sleeve, pointing at restaurants and storefronts with starstruck eyes as he let himself be guided in all directions. His smile had never felt so easy or honest, stuck on his face with the brightness of a million suns. The two were like little kids again, running through town side by side and giggling all the while. They even found themselves cracking up at the squabbles of the elderly folk or the awkward costumes of street performers and would collapse into each other’s arms for giddy support, hunched over and trying to contain their laughter before they would eventually duck into another building.The smell of food was warm and inviting, flowing through the cobbled streets like an uncontainable magic that drew the eventide celebrators into the warmly-lit shops like moths to a flame. But Ludwig and the siren avoided the overly-populated joints and made it their mission instead to seek out the hidden gems on the island, running around the alleyways with pretzels in their mouths and pastries stuffed in Ludwig’s pockets. Bagpipes and mandolins ushered them through the narrow lanes like an enthralling dance until they found themselves in the pub up on the main road, filled to the brim with people toasting glasses and making merry. The two were barely able to push past the murmuring group at the door, finding a small booth in the far corner thankfully unoccupied. The siren was entranced, looking all around the room and its saturated green and mahogany hues. The bar was packed with fishermen and sailors, singing with their arms wrapped around one another in a joyful, inebriated stupor. The poor bartender watched on all the while, rubbing the same glass over and over again with a rag while he rolled his eyes. Though the smell of fish and fried food was strong, the pair found their stomach turning over for another reason entirely.

A sweet smile spread across the siren’s face as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and interlacing her fingers under her chin. Ludwig did the same, copying the gesture, though his smile never ceased to include that infuriatingly charming sort of slyness. They narrowed their eyes at one another, willing the other to break with a grin before Ludwig relented and blinked. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a cinnamon bun, offering it out to the eager siren before he took another look around. Many of the patrons were wrapping it up for the night, draining their glasses and waving goodbye to their friends. While the night was still young, many still had work bright and early in the morning. But at the end of the bar, he noticed, was an incredibly familiar face. The straight posture of the man sitting on the furthest stool stood out to Ludwig, and when he leaned slightly out of his seat to get a better look, he realized that it was none other than the old man from the bookstore himself. Mister Torin MacCrary, if his memory was correct. Ludwig would’ve waved at him, but he hadn’t noticed them over the merriment of the other customers. The siren turned in her seat to see what Ludwig was looking at, her eyes widening with even more excitement when she realized that her soul father was in the room. She could hardly stay still for another second, launching out of the booth and grabbing Ludwig by the arm before she whisked through the pub to meet him. The poor guy was hardly able to finish his pint before the siren practically jumped on his back, embracing him with the most joyous of grins while he sputtered and coughed on his drink. He whirled around in his seat to meet his attacker with the back of his hand before he realized it was just his best customer and relaxed a little. In the end, he still seemed a bit bummed about his spilled Guinness.

“Saints alive,” he sighed, putting a hand over his heart, “Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

Ludwig had to put a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing, watching as the siren ignored the comment and just kept clinging to him. When she finally released the scholar, he gave her arm a pat of affection and went back to sipping the dregs of his glass, raising his arms so the bartender could wipe the now-sticky surface of the bar.

“I take it you two are causing trouble around town, hmm?” Mr. MacCrary inferred, wiping off his vest with some napkins.

Ludwig nodded, glancing to the side expecting for the siren to agree, but found her to be absent. Confused, he looked all around the sea of faces and thankfully spotted her ambling up to the dart board, staring curiously at the colorful things jutting out from its surface. Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief, turning again to the elderly gentleman. Mr. MacCrary watched the siren with fondness in his eyes, laughing quietly to himself as she investigated her new environment.

Out of the corner of his peripherals, Ludwig saw the barkeep toss his towel down on the counter with a frown. Then he slapped its surface and raised his voice so everyone in the bar could hear him.

“All right, all right!” He said, motioning for the rowdier groups to settle down, “Last call, you bums. I’ve gotta deep scrub all the vomit out of the bathroom, so you all better high-tail it by the time I’m done or I’ll make you drink the mop water.”

Ludwig shuddered, wincing with gratitude that it wasn’t him having to clean up any vomit for once. Though the mental image had been unpleasant at best, the patrons of the pub did eventually get out of their seats with grumbled words and set their tabs down on the bar. The siren seemed sad and confused as they all poured out of the building, most likely on their way to find some other place that would stay open well into the night. She turned her downcast gaze over to Ludwig, a silent question of if it was time to go. Mister MacCrary reached into the pocket of his jacket and unfurled a wad of cash, which Ludwig assumed was for his drink. Though, he couldn’t imagine why it had costed so much money.

“Hey, Cillian,” He said, pushing his glass forward. The bartender turned, throwing a curious glance over his shoulder just before he could disappear into the janitorial closet.

“Aye?” He called back.

Mister MacCrary tapped a finger on top of the money.

“You can keep the change if you let us stay for a while longer,” he said, raising his eyebrows with a coy grin, “We won’t be trouble.”

Cillian eyed the money, then the three rather odd people that still remained in his place of business. He cracked a smile, though his voice was still as gruff as before.

“Put your money away, Torin. You know it’s no good here,” the bartender laughed, “You can stay. Just don’t keep me around for too long, you old bag.”

Mister MacCrary nodded, tucking his money back into his pocket with a murmured word of thanks. Then he turned to Ludwig when Cillian disappeared into the bathrooms, mop in hand. He pulled Ludwig a little closer. They casted their eyes over to the siren, who fiddled anxiously with her hands as she stared in the direction of the bathroom. She was pretty sure she had heard the nice man storming around and cursing in there, no doubt dumbfounded with the state it’d been left in. Meanwhile, Ludwig felt a bit of pressure on his palm, realizing that the old man had pressed a few coins between his fingers. MacCrary gave the back of his hand a pat, retracting with a gentle sigh before he mulled over his tobacco pipe.

“He always shuts the jukebox off last,” He said, glancing sideways at Ludwig with a knowing smile, “Better make it quick.”

Ludwig blinked, unsure if he heard what the man had said correctly. He stammered a half-hearted “pardon me?”, looking repeatedly over his shoulder at the neon machine in the corner and the woman still waiting for Ludwig to join her. But Mister MacCrary only snickered and shook his head again, blowing a ring of fragrant smoke in the opposite direction.

Ludwig looked down at the coins in his hands, unsure of how to proceed before he looked over his shoulder again. The siren was standing off to the side, admiring the wall decor with growing uncertainty of what exactly she was supposed to be doing. After mentally slapping a bit of sense into himself, Ludwig finally mustered up the courage to meet her with his usual collected composure. Yet, the siren was never fooled by it. Only fascinated and occasionally amused, really. And when she was an arm’s length away from him, he realized that perhaps some acts weren’t really worth the effort of keeping up. He stooped down a bit lower, meeting the siren’s eyes when he took her hand in his and pulled her closer to him.

“I,” he began, his gaze shifting over to the other side of the room. He felt foolish for being so inept at finding the right words. He wished so dearly in that moment for the ease in which Spy often produced suave things to say. But Ludwig was no Spy, and he was likewise not a very good actor when it came to playing things off. So he took a deep breath and tried again.

“I’d be a fool,” he said, “not to invite you to dance.”

And the siren looked up at him, tilting her head with a curious smile. She didn’t quite understand the question, but nodded nonetheless. Ludwig’s heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading across his face when he realized that she had more or less accepted his offer. He smiled, nodding as he tried to regain his composure. Their fingers intertwined and he guided them to the pristinely-kept jukebox that stood proudly against the wall, right behind a nice, open area of the floor. Ludwig released her hand for a moment, approaching the machine and listening to the sound of the coins falling through the slot as he considered what song to play. He had a nearly unlimited selection to choose from, and the options seemed a little daunting considering very few of them weren’t titled in Gaelic. But while he perused the images on the song covers, his eyes were drawn to one of the last songs on the list. He might not have been a dancer by any means, but he did know how to slow-dance, and that might’ve been all that he’d need to know after all. Ludwig pressed the button with regained confidence, turning around and approaching the siren with a humorous shrug before he considered how exactly he would explain this to her.

“Have you danced before?” He asked, scratching the nape of his neck. The siren shook her head, still smiling so sweetly despite the fact that Ludwig was practically buckling under the pressure with every passing second.

“Well,” he stammered, trying to keep his voice sounding professional, “You just—“

After another moment of silent floundering, Ludwig gave up on trying to figure out what exactly to say and resorted to gently guiding her position with his actions. She watched, curious, as he carefully slipped her hands into his own and brought them up to his shoulders. She held them there, though she laughed softly at his tense expression when he tried to rest his hands on her waist as politely as possible. Behind them, the machine began to turn and fire up with the clicking of turning mechanisms, catching the awestruck attention of the siren before a melody began to flow from its direction. Slow, waltzing pianos and brass serenaded the air with a lulling samba, filling the room with a gentle yet powerful bossa nova. The siren gasped, staring with both fascination and delight as the strange light-up box started making music, turning frantically back and forth between it and Ludwig to see if he was also comprehending this.

“It’s not magic,” he shrugged with a grin, “Just one of life’s great pleasures.”

The siren settled, brought back to the focus of his arms around her when he took a slight step forward.

“Like this,” he whispered, nodding, “And then you take a step back.”

The siren kept her eyes on the ground, not wanting to falter, as they fell into a rhythm. It was clumsy at first, with the occasional stumble and bashful catch, but she got the hang of it with time. Soon, she could keep her eyes off of his shoes, beaming softly at Ludwig as they shifted across the shining floor. The stars may well have become a little brighter, if not just to make the lighting even more perfect. The night was divine as they waltzed, each step becoming second nature as the song carried them on. And the siren felt bold, seeing the way they stayed barely inches apart, and longed to be closer. So she let her arm slide into his, until their fingers intertwined, and she let her other hand slide to his back. And though her own pulse raced, she let her head rest on his shoulder as the music continued, enjoying the cool fabric of his collar. She could feel the warmth of his skin this close, no doubt as burning as she was, but she melted back into every note soon enough. Her mind was devoid of a single hesitation, as was Ludwig’s, and he embraced her close as the night became later and later. She listened to his heartbeat, knowing deep inside that it should’ve been her nature—her birthright—to want to tear it out of him. To kill him, to feast on his remains—but she only felt a tender longing to hear it beat even for just a little bit longer, hoping deep inside that it could imprint it’s rhythm into her own heart so she could relive it in her dreams. Ludwig’s fingers barely traced over the surface of her skin, grazing and ghosting over her arms as she swayed with him. Her blood still ran through her veins beneath his touch, and yet, he had no desperate urge to see it. He had no desire or need to destroy her, to harm or so much as despise her. Ludwig craved her safety and her life more than his own inherent need to dissect and break anything that fascinated him. It was pathetic, he thought, the way his past self would’ve laughed if he could see himself dancing with the very creature he was sent to kill without mercy. But he felt an astounding warmth knowing this, watching her slow movements fall in time with his and letting the side of his head come to rest against her own. He was enamored with the gentle scent of her hair and her being, closing his eyes in the hopes that this moment would never end.

Cillian returned from the restrooms with his shirt covered in filth and a scowl on his face, but it quickly faded away when he saw the two by the jukebox. He went behind the bar, watching them with surprise as he cleaned Mister MacCrary’s glass.

“Kids,” MacCrary shook his head, though he couldn’t hide his smile, “I’ll never understand them.”

Cillian shrugged, a nonchalant huff leaving his lips before he leaned against the bar and watched as the soft music finally wound down to its very last note.

***

Arm in arm, Ludwig guided the siren home. She was glowing with a soft sort of joy, though it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to stay much longer on land. Her eyes were tired and her skin was growing slightly rough to the touch with soon-to-arrive scales. But she was happy, and that’s all that mattered to Ludwig. And he was happy, too. Under the moon and the dark silhouettes of palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze, Ludwig brought her to the shore and stood on silent watch as she re-emerged herself in the waves she called home. They foamed and bubbled against the sand before the tide brought them away, crashing against the rock with lunar tides as the siren stared out at him. She smiled, tilting her head, though Ludwig couldn’t see it. But he had called out to her nonetheless, raising his hand with a short wave as he bid her goodnight. He stood, watching the waves come and go as the siren disappeared under the inky, shimmering surface.

He trailed up to his house after a moment, taking a deep breath of the fresh air before he let himself back inside. Like every other night, he got ready for bed and slid under his sheets with a quiet sigh of relief. But even with the lights being off and his tired eyes fighting for sleep, Ludwig couldn’t bring himself to drift off just yet. He tossed and turned in the night, working himself in circles trying to diagnose the issue that wracked his brain with racing thoughts. His heart was beating fast, and his anxiety was even faster. But every time he thought a conclusion—a solution, even—was just within in his grasp, he was left crumbling in the wake of that night’s lingering memory. The ghost of her hands on his shoulders, on his back, or in his own hands, it infested his mind like a disease he couldn’t treat. And nothing bothered Ludwig more than a problem without a solution. So he tossed and turned, sighing with frustration until the moment came at last when Ludwig succumbed to the sound of the ocean and the sweet embrace of long-awaited sleep.

Chapter Text

The sands were warm against the siren’s legs, her fingers pushing through the grainy hills around her and smoothing them out for her own bored amusement. That morning was much quieter because of the pause that had been placed on the festivities in town, allowing everyone a day to recuperate and get their work done if that was needed. But the siren longed to see the lights and hear the music again, to be swept up in the current of land creatures with Ludwig weaving her through the crowded streets. She wondered if he, too, was reminiscing before the beach house’s front door swung open. The aforementioned man emerged from within, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. Despite the early hour in which he rose, he had a skip in his step as he traipsed down the wooden stairs of the front deck, admiring the sky with squinted eyes.

The air had a spark of adventure, he thought to himself, with a sort of hidden electricity that hummed deep below the earth. It kept him up in the middle of the night with anticipation, looking forward to that looming sun at the break of day. Now he just needed to find what exactly was calling out to him. Ludwig sidled up to the beach, leaving prints in the amber dunes as the water gently drifted and passed. The siren watched him over her shoulder as he approached, her smile melting away the dawn’s chill as Ludwig invited himself to the spot beside her. He settled, leaning back on his elbows as the siren returned her attention to the horizon with that Mona Lisa smile of hers.

“Do you ever get this feeling?” Ludwig asked her, breaking the silence with a soft voice.“This sense of waiting for something to happen?”

The siren seemed to consider that, tilting her head up as if she would find the answer written in the clouds. She regarded him from the corner of her eyes, grinning. She nodded.

“And what of today?” He continued, watching the gulls fly overhead. They circled a fishing boat off in the distance, searching for a scrap to eat.

The siren’s expression seemed neutral, if not a little reserved. Ludwig thought that perhaps she had just misunderstood him before she nodded again. At this, he faced her, his eyes alight with curiosity and surprise. The siren did not move, still only keeping her eyes straight ahead.

Ludwig felt a tinge of worry when she shifted, pushing herself up and then standing. She dusted off the hem of her dress, whistling out a tired murmur. Ludwig looked up at the siren as her shadow fell across him, though a smile returned to his face when she offered out her hand. He took it, standing as well with a small bit of effort.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ludwig joked, though the siren’s mind was already elsewhere. She turned her head towards the other side of the beach, his hand still tenderly pressed into hers before she began to guide him with sure strides in the direction she had been eyeing.

Ludwig would be lying if he said he always understood the siren. Whenever he thought he finally had her all figured out, she was quick to leave him upside-down and humbled. Serves him right for trying to be perceptive, Ludwig guessed.

The narrow house became a blur in the foggy distance when the pair neared the edge of the beach. The sands were colder and denser down there, with tiny, gurgling tide pools and sparkling shells jutting from the sand like pearly shipwrecks. The rocks were obstructed by mist, setting the tone of a pirate’s cove as the craggy cliffs lunged towards the sea. Each gust of wind whipped salty spray back into their faces, their hair misty with sand and water. The siren seemed familiar with this territory, navigating them through the terrain with a confident presence and a reassuring grip on Ludwig’s hand. It would have taken his breath away, really, but the sight of this place already had. It was strange yet wonderful, possessing the disconnected beauty only secret things had.

When the siren led Ludwig behind a natural obelisk of black stone, she stopped. He stood a few paces behind her as the siren stared towards the ground. All the moisture in the air was making her scales come up to breathe, their glimmering light hypnotizing Ludwig for a moment or two as she lowered herself to the sand. When he found it in himself to snap out of it, Ludwig reclaimed enough sense to come up beside her, dropping to the ground and briefly wiping off his glasses.

After a few moments of running her hands through the damp, packed sand, the siren began to pull up fistfuls of the grainy earth and mud. She pushed them idly aside, calling forth what she had buried and brought Ludwig out to see. It had washed up sometime in the twilight hours, when the blinking stars kept their solemn watch on the tides and the lapping shores. Sometime during the night, an artifact the siren later discovered had washed up on the beach, partially buried in the sand and ready to be pulled up by curious fingers.

Now, the siren cradled it solemnly in her hands, angling it towards Ludwig so he could see it.

An arm made of stone—like that of a statue—lied frozen in her grasp, constellations of cracks branching over every inch on its surface.

Chapter Text

The siren had rarely looked so troubled, slowly tapping her nails against Ludwig’s kitchen table while he fetched them both a glass of water. He wondered if sirens even really needed to drink the stuff—ultimately deciding that it was none of his business. Sort of. Nevertheless, a glass was slid across the table in her direction.

The siren let it ease into her palm, her eyes flickering down towards the clear water rippling within. In a moment, her fretful expression disappeared and she couldn’t help but muster a little smile. Ludwig sat down across from her, eying the arm they had brought back from the beach before he downed his cup in practically one sip. One thing the siren could never comprehend was just how quickly humans got dehydrated. It seemed like a miserable existence indeed, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t astonished by how quickly Ludwig had done that.

Sirens had no need to drink water from cups, but she wanted to try. Her wide eyes traveled between him and her glass, then back again. She hesitantly picked it up, still reeling from what she had seen, and gave it her best shot.

It didn’t go great, shockingly. By the time Ludwig realized what was about to happen, he was covered in a layer of water and the siren’s chair was overturned.

She tentatively sat up from the floor, looking over the scales on her body and her swishing tail. She buried her face within her hands, realizing her mistake and teetering between both hilarity and mortification. When she looked up, she saw the worried doctor dodge around the table and drop down beside her.

“Oh. Oh goodness,” he stammered, not entirely sure to whom he was speaking. The siren put out her hands, trying to reassure him that all was fine and dandy with a flustered smile. He slipped one into his own, wrapping his other arm around her back and helping her sit more upright.

“What should I do?” He asked, his eyes making fervent lines between her and the restroom, “Do I need to put you in the bathtub again?”

The siren put up a hand, silencing his worries with a polite shake of her head. In due time she would have her land legs returned to her, but for now she didn’t want to waste any more precious minutes on formalities and dawdling. She snapped her fingers, pulling Ludwig quickly from his thoughts, and nodded at what sat atop the table.

“Oh,” he remembered, “right.”

He gave the siren one last glance of caution, making certain that she was okay before he retrieved the stone arm wrapped in a towel. Crouching back on the floor beside her, they both studied the artifact with a keen sense of foreboding—unsure of what the origin of such a thing could mean.

“Perhaps the man at the bookstore can identify it for us,” Ludwig pondered aloud, “Surely he’s knowledgable about this sort of thing.”

The siren nodded slightly, though she seemed rather apprehensive. When she reached out to touch the arm, she recoiled at first. Obviously, Ludwig found that to be a bit odd.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, prodding her with a gentle nudge of his shoulder.

The siren flexed her fingers, wringing her hands with anticipation. She kept her gaze level, then reached for the arm again.

For a moment, when the siren’s palms dusted across the smooth granite surface, Ludwig could swear that he saw a jolt of pain in the siren’s body. She jumped at its touch, flinching away and retracting her hands.

Ludwig instinctively lunged to help in some way, leaning to act as a barrier between the two while he searched her expression for an explanation. It was then that he placed just what exactly he saw in that brief glimpse of her mind.

Horror.

Sheer horror.

Chapter Text

The woodsy scent of Mr. MacCrary’s tobacco pipe filled the air as he studied the stone arm through a magnifying glass, turning it this way and that.

“It’s a good thing you brought this to my attention,” he grunted, his voice quiet as he stroked his beard. He set the magnifying glass down, studying Ludwig and the siren with a grim expression.

“I’m surprised this even washed up on the beach at all.”

Ludwig nodded, glancing to his left. The siren stood beside him, her eyes fixed on the arm. She did not move. The sign on the shop’s entrance said “closed”, though it was open when Ludwig and the siren had first walked in. Mr. MacCrary was quick to lock up the place when he knew what information they had came for, the stone arm wrapped in a towel that now sat on the store’s front desk. After marking on a beach map just where they had found the arm, Mr. MacCrary cut right to the chase.

“You know where this came from, don’t you?” He asked, studying the siren’s empty gaze with a sad expression. The siren nodded slightly.

“You do?” Ludwig asked, his brows furrowing as he turned to her. MacCrary continued, wary.

“This must have drifted quite a distance to reach the shore,” he noted, shaking his head, “If you want my guess, I’d say that all of the fishing boats on the water must have stirred up the silt at the sea’s shallower depths.”

Something dawned upon Ludwig in that moment, his eyes widening as he regarded Mr. MacCrary with a careful frown.

“You’ve saved us both a lot of time, boy,” MacCrary told him, his expression cold.

“This is a siren’s arm. I told you about the tragedy of merfolk just the other day.”

Ludwig paled slightly, nodding.

“This is a bad sign,” MacCrary continued, seeming older in the dancing candlelight than he did before, “I think we need to brace ourselves for dark times ahead.”

Ludwig got a bad feeling as he glanced down at the arm again. Something about a stone graveyard of eradicated beings washing up to shore didn’t sit well with him.

“Are you alright?” Ludwig asked, his voice soft as he turned back to the siren. She looked unsteady as she shifted beside him, her breathing uneven. MacCrary peered between her and the arm, then cleared his throat.

“I’ll hold onto this here,” he said, addressing the two, “I’m going to hide it in the shop, but you mustn’t worry. We’re going to keep this to ourselves, understand?”

Ludwig nodded firmly, knowing full well what sort of hysteria that could cause.

“What happens now?” He asked, staring at the siren out of the corner of his eye. MacCrary wrapped the arm inside the towel again, sighing quietly.

“Nothing. Business as usual,” he replied, disappearing into a room at the back for a moment. When the old man returned, he walked to the other side of the counter and pulled the siren into a momentary embrace. She gingerly returned it, her breathing still slightly labored.

“It will be alright, lass,” he reassured her, patting her back, “It’s all taken care of. You just stay close to the shore for a while, yeah?”

The siren nodded, putting on a brave face. She stood a little closer to Ludwig when MacCrary let her go, walking behind the counter and grabbing his cane.

“I have business elsewhere to attend to,” the scholar said, imparting no further details.

“I recommend that you two stay vigilant, yes?”

“Yes, but vigilant for what exactly?” Ludwig asked, watching with concern as the old man made his way to the door with a set of keys.

“I wish I knew, boy,” MacCrary replied. The door opened and he gestured for the two to leave. Ludwig was unsatisfied with the information he’d been given, but knew that MacCrary wouldn’t be giving up any answers. He gently grabbed the siren’s hand and guided her outside with him, watching MacCrary lock up the store with a slight frown.

“Come on,” Ludwig murmured to her, “We’ll go back to the house for a while.”

The siren nodded again. She seemed a little better than she did when they had first walked in, but not by much. They strolled hand-in-hand through town and back down to the beach, not saying a word. Nothing needed to be said, really. The sands were still hot to the touch, but the sun wasn’t too bright. There were storm clouds on the horizon.

Little critters were coming up from the beach that time of year, scuttling up from their grainy homes in search of new, pretty shells to live in.

“Isn’t that something?” Ludwig sighed, humming softly. A tiny hermit crab wriggled up from the sand, its little legs working overtime to shimmy away. The siren smiled softly, leaning down and gently scooping it up in her palms. She cooed softly to it, wiping off its shell with her thumb. The siren eyed Ludwig softly, a glint of mischief in her gaze. She turned and pushed the crab close to his face, making kissy sounds.

“Ick!” Ludwig grimaced, dodging away from her. The siren gave chase, laughing softly as she kept the hermit crab safely tucked in her hands. When Ludwig tripped and fell painlessly onto his side, losing traction on the dense sand, the siren planted herself right down beside him. Ludwig huffed, accepting his fate with a deadpan expression as the siren continued her antics of making him fake smooch the otherwise unbothered crustacean.

Having had her fun, the siren contentedly released the little fella back into the sand, wishing him farewell.

She and Ludwig just sit on the sand for a while, watching the clouds pass as they ignore the looming dread of the conversation they had with Mr. MacCrary.

“Are you worried?” Ludwig asks earnestly, his eyes staring up at the fluffy clouds as they pass.

The siren sighs softly. She shifts on her side, then lies down beside him. They linger there for a moment longer.

The siren turns her head, looking shyly at the side of his face. She likes how he looks when he’s lost in thought. It’s a look that she’s used to now. Feeling her stare, Ludwig turns his head, too.

“Is there something on my face?” He asks, wiping the back of his hand on his cheek. The siren smiles, giggling softly. She reaches out and plucks his glasses right off his face, tossing them gently just out of reach.

“Very funny,” he snorts dryly, rolling his eyes with a slight smile as he leans over to retrieve them. While he’s busy wiping sand off the lenses, the siren sits up again, looking blankly at the sky.

“Are you ready to go?” Ludwig asks, turning around as he put his glasses back on. He stops, his eyes crinkling slightly with concern to see the way her face has fallen. The siren is staring down at the sand, the cold ocean spray carrying on the wind. It’s starting to get chilly.

Ludwig stands up with a grunt, wordlessly offering his hand to help her. She takes it after a moment, guiltily averting her eyes. He wraps a hand around her back, keeping her close to him as they walk down the beach and back towards his house. The siren leans her head against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his presence against the cooling air. Ludwig is surprised by the subtle gesture, trying to seem like he doesn’t notice as his face warms.

The inside of Ludwig’s cabin is nice and inviting, beckoning the siren to take a seat on the plush sofa and watch Ludwig feed his birds.

The room is silent, but not painfully so. They both have a lot on their minds, wandering to distant places where the worst case scenario is a dire reality. Like it’s close enough to reach out and touch.

“Are you,” Ludwig murmurs, clearing his throat as he tries to seem occupied with chores, “Are you staying over tonight? I understand if you can’t, given your need for water…” he trails off.

The siren tilts her head, considering. She gets an idea, holding up a finger as a silent gesture to stay put. The siren leaves through the kitchen door, running down the warped wooden steps and disappearing into the darkness. Ludwig, stammering out something in surprise, turns to Archimedes, who is happily perched on his shoulder.

“What is she doing?” He asks. Archimedes only ruffles his feathers in response, flying away.

“You aren’t being helpful,” Ludwig huffs, watching him join the other doves in the rafters. Suddenly, he hears a distant splash outside. Running over to the window, he flicks on the porch light and scans the beach, instinctively reaching for the spot on his hip where his bone saw usually dangles. He sees the shadow of the siren break through the tide, running back onto shore right after getting in. What a strange woman.

She shakes herself off, her legs forming again before she runs back up to Ludwig’s porch, shivering with droplets of ice cold water. She stands there with a goofy smile as she waits for Ludwig to let her back in, her teeth chattering quietly.

“Really?” Ludwig sighs, pulling her inside, “You’re trailing water in.”

The siren beams up at him, shrugging carelessly before she strolls right past. Having just taken a refreshing dip, she’s able to store enough water in her inverted scales to last her a night away from the sea. That way, the same mistake from last time won’t be repeated.

“At least let me get you a towel before you freeze,” Ludwig says, rummaging through a nearby closet. The siren hums, her skin looking less sparkly as she dries off. Ludwig drapes a towel over her shoulders, leaving her there as he disappears momentarily into his bedroom. When he comes back, he’s holding another t-shirt of his and a pair of shorts.

“Are you alright with just wearing this again?” He asks, unable to resist that smile. She really could do no wrong in his eyes. The siren nods happily, accepting the clothes and at least having the decency to run to his bathroom to change.

Ludwig sinks down on his couch, letting his body go limp as he sighs with exhaustion. Truth be told, he’s glad she chose to stay. He didn’t like the thought of her being all alone in those cold, dark waves. The bathroom door creaks open and the siren comes padding down the hallway, looking cuter than ever in his old clothes. She stands in the threshold of the hall and the living room, tilting her head to see him lying like a pancake on the couch.

“I’m just tired,” he chuckles, reassuring her, “My bedroom is yours to use again, of course. I’m quite comfortable where I am.”

The siren smiles, chuckling softly. She gathers a throw blanket up in her arms, draping it unceremoniously on top of him like a body bag.

“Thank you,” his muffled voice yawns. She has to stifle a laugh, her shoulders shaking fondly. She glances behind her at the bedroom down the hall, but she doesn’t go. She looks back at Ludwig, watching as his hand emerges from under the blanket to place his glasses on the nearby coffee table.

The siren shoos him softly, pushing him over a little to make room. He hums, poking his face out of the blanket with confusion as the cushion shifts. The siren snuggles up beside him, stealing away some of the blanket for herself. He can’t help but stare when she makes herself quite cozy, resting her head on his chest. He goes tense, unsure if she’ll bite him or something if he moves. So, he remains frozen, his eyes wide in shock as she contently sighs.

It takes a minute, but he does admit it to himself. This is kind of nice.

He relaxes slightly beneath her, hesitantly bringing up his hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. Ludwig’s expression melts into one of gentle serenity, his eyes growing heavy with sleep again as the warmth of the cabin seeps into his aching limbs.

Though the sea washes ashore with choppy waters and brisk winds, nothing could keep the two within the house from sleeping so soundly. Their dreams are carried off to the stars in a matter of minutes, swept away on the backs of countless little hermit crabs in tiny, swirly shells.