"You sure about showing your face above deck, Your Worship? Not afraid someone would see you?"
"Come now, Lace. Everyone on this ship already knows I'm not allowed on board, but nobody has ratted me out yet."
Niernen opened her bright violet eyes as a spray of cool ocean water misted over her sun-warmed face. Coral-red lines of vallaslin branched out over her forehead and cheeks in the likeness of a bare tree. Reaching past the gunwale, the elf ran her hand along the gnarled figurehead of the snarling wolf carved into the ship's prow, poised as if leaping over the sea as the frigate cut through the water. A smile touched her face at the familiar feel of the weathered wood beneath her fingers, her cream-coloured skin contrasting against the dusky charcoal grey of ironbark. Gusting wind ran through her neck-length black hair, snapping at the skirts of her blue dress and filling their sails taut, pushing them forward at a good speed.
A derisive snort reached her ears, barely audible over the sliced waves breaking over their hull. "You do know everyone will kill me dead if they ever find out I smuggle you on board during patrols?"
Turning back to look over her shoulder at her dwarven companion, Niernen flashed her a grin. "But that's not going to be a problem because they never will find out, right?"
Captain Lace Harding merely rolled her eyes with an exasperated smile, the ship's wheel turning in her hands as if it were an extension of her body. She guided the Fen'Harel through the sea, its bow cutting an effortlessly path across the deep blue water. "What's going on at the palace this time, anyway? Did someone set Lady Nightingale's nugs loose again?"
Niernen's expression fell, the guilt returning tenfold and punching her in the gut. She let her gaze drop down to the smooth grey forecastle deck, her gaze tracing the rows of interlaced silver planks to the white canvas sails open above their heads where endless lengths of tightly woven rope rigging hung from the yards and formed shrouds leading up to the towering masts. She knew every plank, every pulley, every nook and corner of this ship ever since she was barely a teenager. For years she had sought solace in the peaceful calm of the seas above and below its deck, taking joy in the simple, honest life led by a hard-working sailor of an Inquisition frigate. Now, she faced the possibility of losing even this.
"Cullen Rutherford is supposed to visit today," said Niernen by way of explanation, letting the offhand statement hang in the air. It took a moment for Harding to catch on.
"Wait, Rutherford? The dignitary from Ferelden who—Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry, Lavellan. Are they still …?"
Niernen lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug, not meeting Harding's eyes. "They're getting impatient, they want an answer."
"Are you really going to agree to the marriage?"
Niernen hung her head, arms dropping to her sides as she eyed the everlasting rise and fall of the sea. Always constant, never changing. The bobbing water glinted in the sun, pushed by the underlying current no one could see. "It's not as though I have a choice."
"But you have a choice."
Niernen glanced back up at her friend to meet the rare frown on the dwarven sea captain's freckled features. "You don't have to concede to Ferelden's proposal. You don't have to become a pretty chess piece and do the whole politics thing, if that's not what you want. This has gone on long enough, and I don't want to see you miserable like this anymore. You always have a choice."
Niernen shook her head before Harding even finished speaking. "I can't. My brother and Cassandra have delayed this for as long as they could already, and Orlais and Tevinter expect us to—"
"Besides, the man has a mistress, doesn't he? What's her name—Rhiannon? Naomi?"
"I don't remember," said Niernen with another shrug.
Lace sighed, shaking her head. "He doesn't want this marriage either, does he?"
"No, he doesn't. But we all have to do what we have to do, Lace."
"Well, just … Promise me you'll think about it?"
"I'll try," said Niernen with a small smile, though they both knew she wouldn't.
Harding blew a breath out through her nose, jerking her chin at the sea. "Anyway, best get yourself below deck soon, Your Worship. We're expecting to dock back at Skyhold Harbour in an hour or so, if the winds continue to favour us."
Casting her gaze forward, to where she could barely make out the speck of land in the distance, Niernen huffed. "An hour's a long time, Lace. I can stay out here a bit longer." Turning back to her friend, she gave her a half-hearted glare. "And I told you to stop calling me that."
Harding smiled. "Just saying, Lavellan, we're in merpeople-infested waters now, so it doesn't hurt to be careful. Wouldn't want to explain to the Inquisition how I lost their Herald to the mermaids, Lady Cassandra would have my head."
Niernen laughed. "That's if Leliana doesn't get to you first!"
At her words, Captain Harding shuddered. "Let's not talk about that, I still have nightmares over the last guy they brought in after she was through—"
"MAELSTROM AHEAD!" came the yell from the crow's nest. Elf and dwarf broke off their banter to glance at the stretch of water ahead, where a whirling body of water that wasn't there mere moments before began to build.
"Is that a whirlpool?" Niernen asked, intrigued, as she leaned further out over the gunwale to get a better look. The waters swirled in a perfect circle, drawing itself into a shallow cone as it expanded wider and wider, growing to the size of large wyvern. In all her years of sneaking aboard the patrol ship, she had never seen one in person before.
Harding frowned, spinning the ship's wheel to veer a hard right. "Of a sort, but it's strange. The currents here are relatively peaceful and there have never been any reported hazards around our vicinity. And never have I seen one form so fast."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Shouldn't be, but it'll hamper our progress. I'll have to go around it—"
An ear-splitting crack of lightning split the rapidly darkening sky in two and drowned out the rest of Harding's sentence. The sparkling, bobbing waters of the ocean gave way to angry black waves that frothed and rammed against the ship, jarring it to and fro as the wood creaked in protest. With the calm waters went the sun, blotted out by the billowing, dark clouds that bore down on them like a horde of bats, plunging them into a dim darkness. The change was quick as blinking, and the passengers of the Fen'Harel now found themselves in the middle of a vicious storm.
"Lace, what's happening?!" Niernen demanded, edging away from the gunwale as another bolt of lightning stabbed the roiling sea.
"Not anything natural," said Harding through gritted teeth. "This is magic. Mer-magic, blast it all!"
The ship shook as something rammed its hull underwater, nearly throwing Niernen off her feet as she grasped onto the gunwale for support. The crew began yelling, screaming that the merpeople were going to kill them. The quartermaster called for calm, tolling the bells signalling for all hands as men scaled the rigging to the sails. Niernen staggered upright, trying to regain her balance with the ship moving under her feet like a rampaging druffalo. The vessel rose and fell on the waves, the heights getting increasingly drastic. She swallowed, trying to tide her rising fear. Even if she knew how to swim, in these waters ….
"Get below deck, Lavellan!" Harding shouted over the storm. "The waves are too high, I don't know if—"
As if summoned, huge wave twice as tall as the ship was long towered on their starboard side, bearing down on them with impossible speed.
"BRACE!" someone shouted. It was their only warning.
Niernen hit the deck with both knees and wrapped her arms around the nearest balustrade just as the water crashed over the deck, briefly bringing the ship under like it was a child's toy. The force of it nearly ripped her from the ship, forcing the breath out of her lungs in a mad stream of bubbles and foam that dominated her vision. Panic seized at her, stilling her heart and causing her to gasp, drawing in some water and then she was unable to breathe; but she refused to let go, she absolutely mustn't let go—
Just as she was sure she was going to drown, the ship resurfaced, righting itself even over the churning water, caught helplessly in the current. Niernen coughed, hacking up water as she drew in ragged breaths and blinked to clear her eyes, keeping her death grip on the balustrade.
"Lace!" she tried to yell, her voice coming out as a croak. The water ran in streams down her body, her clothes sticking uncomfortably to her skin. It plastered hair to her cheeks as the torrent poured down around her in sheets and obscured her vision to nothing more than dull, wet grey. "LACE!"
"Lavellan!" came the reply. A rush of relief washed over her; Harding was still alive. "Lavellan, hang on! I'll get us out of here, I'll get us—"
A second wave washed over them again, the force slamming down on Niernen, and this time, she did not resurface.
Cold, dark.
No breath. Her lungs burned, her eyes stung. Darkness reaching up to pull her deeper, vision fading. She couldn't move, too heavy.
Was this what is was like to drown?
Something brushing her wrist. She tried to pull away, but too strong, and she was too weak. All her strength to keep her eyes open.
A figure moving in the swallowing darkness. Shining points in the oppressive dark; eyes blue like starmetal. A bare scalp, but auburn brows. Furrowed. A scar above the right one. Beautiful.
Strangest of all; glittering silver scales.
Everything faded.
It felt strangely hot.
And the bed was hard. Had she fallen asleep on the floor again?
Niernen groaned, trying to move her arms but finding them stiff and sore. Had she been out in the forest yesterday? She didn't remember doing any strenuous exercises.
It really was hot.
The sun stabbed at her retinas even through closed eyelids. She frowned, turning her face away and laying her cheek on the damp, sandy ground.
… Sand?
Niernen's eyes flew open, only to clench shut against the glare of the blazing midday sun directly above. With waking came awareness, and she groaned again as her body let her know of every ache and pain while her head pounded like someone was smacking her upside the head with an anvil. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, her lips peeling and parched. Sitting up in jerky movements as if she were an old woman instead of a young lady, she got her joints to work enough to bring a hand to her forehead, smearing sand across her sun-burnt face as she swept the salt-stiffened hair from her forehead.
What happened? Her too-dry tongue darted out to lick her lips. She hissed as they cracked, tasting the coppery tang of blood. The furrows between her brows deepened as she massaged her temples, trying to sift through the murky depths of her memory. The wash of waves and rush of blessedly cool sea wind on her cheeks stirred at her mind. Yes. She last remembered giving Cassandra the slip and sneaking aboard the Fen'Harel on another of her secret excursions out to the sea. She was talking with Harding, telling her about Cullen Rutherford. Then there was a storm—
The storm.
Oh, no.
Niernen forced her eyes open, squinting against the too-bright light and shielding them with a hand. The sea reflected the light of the sun, the cloudless sky allowing it to beat its merciless rays down on the ground. The tide was high, the water lapping at the shoreline a mere three feet away. She lay sprawled out on the wet sand, clothes damp. Her skin was pink, sun-burnt and coated in soft sand as if she had taken a dip in the sea then rolled out on the beach before drying out in the sun. There was not a single other person in sight, nor was there any sign of the ship.
What happened? What happened to the crew? To Harding? Surely she couldn't be the only one alive?
She had fallen into the water, she was sure of it. She remembered the dark, the cold, the freezing chill and pressing walls squeezing the life and breath out of her with every passing second as she sank to the seabed. She tried to breathe but only brought in the cold, numbing water into her lungs. She was so sure she was dead, sure she was drowned, then darkness overtook her. How was she still alive?
Eyes adjusting to the light, she cricked her neck as she swiveled her head this way and that, glancing up and down the deserted beach and finding herself alone. Just then, she became aware of an aching dryness in her throat and she coughed. One cough turned into two. The next moment, she was wheezing and hacking into the sand. Now that she was fully aware of her body, the thirst was almost unbearable.
Just as she wondered what she would do next, the familiar peal of bell towers tolling the hour sounded faintly through the air. She knew they were hourly bells, for they were the very ones standing tall and proud over Skyhold Harbour, their tower like an ever-watching sentinel. Twisting her body, she turned all the way around, eyeing the sheer cliff-faces and finally spying a the tip of a flagpole peeking from one of the bluffs, a barely visible maroon flag billowing in the wind marked with the black and white sword through the eye. By some miracle, she had made it back on the shores of her home.
She sighed even as a measure of relief washed over her. She didn't know what happened to the ship or crew, and worry gnawed at her gut. But if she had made it out, surely the others had too?
Regardless, she had some explaining to do.
A/N: Some time ago, someone in the fandom was looking for a mermaid AU of DAI (I can't remember where I saw this herpderp). The Little Mermaid is one of my favourite fairytales, and Solavellan is my OTP so …
Here, have some Solavellan mer-love, guys.