The Call of The Sea
A Thor Fanfiction
Chapter One
He flailed in their grip as they pulled him from the net.
His tail slapped rebelliously against the sopping deck and tried to swoop beneath his captors' legs in an effort to make them slip. He succeeded with blindsiding a few, but the men who saw the attack sidestepped easily and doubled their efforts to pin his massive appendage. Their hands wound tightly around his arms and one of the sailors pinched Loki's long neck between thick, callused fingers.
He squirmed in defiance, arching his back and writhing.
Still soaked and slippery from the water he had been abducted from, he had a good chance at escape. They were struggling to maintain their hold on him due to the slickness of his smooth skin and their hands were sliding all over his body. Realizing the small, but vital upper hand he held with this, he doubled his panicked efforts. He yanked away from them with everything he had, twisting as much as possible so they were forced to release him.
He slithered free and the sailors stumbled and tripped with the momentum as they tried to stay upright. They scattered about the deck before lunging forward to recapture their prize. Seeing this as his chance for freedom, Loki made a frantic move for the side of the ship.
He scrambled across the floorboards, slipping between groping fingers and limbs. He bit and scratched at those he could and struck out with his tail as he fled.
His whole focus was on trying to get home.
Finally, chest heaving, he hooked his arms over the ship's side and made to pull himself up and over. He could see the dusky green water below as he moved to launch himself away from the offending beings who had kidnapped him. It was so close….
He pushed off.
One second too late.
As he made to hurdle himself into the ocean, a foot crushed his tail and pressed his delicate fins to the deck. The thrust of his jump for escape caused the soft flesh to rip violently beneath the sailor's boot. He screamed, back curling up instinctively and causing his ribs to press uncomfortably against the ship's wood. A single moment was all it took for them to take advantage of his weakness. Almost instantly, another net was thrown over him, dragging him back and away from hisfreedom.
He screamed, unable to keep a hold on the ship's side as they heaved him away.
Watching his opportunity vanish, Loki became lost in a flurry of punishing kicks and punches. He embraced himself protectively below them, grunting with each bruising blow. Blood dripped into his eyes as a gnash ripped open above his left brow and he could taste copper on his tongue. One kick hit him heavily in the stomach and he went limp with it as the breath ran from his lungs. Another struck his head and his vision went white with agony, effectively erasing his remaining struggles.
Seeing that he was momentarily stunned, the men hurriedly went about binding him. The ripped him from the net and efficiently bound his hands tightly in course knots at the base of his back. His eyesight stilled blurred with blood and pain, Loki suddenly felt engulfed in the terrifying feeling of helplessness. The prickle of hot tears began to add to the burn of his emerald orbs and he squeezed his eyes shut.
They hauled him from the wet wooden floor and dragged him over to the ladder that lead below deck. They gave him no chance to recover from his beating, throwing his wounded form bodily down into the hole. He gasped, his lungs seemingly lodging into his throat as gravity pulled him below.
He hit the ground with a pained grunt, rolling onto his side.
One of the men jumped down beside him, nearly crushing the merman's head. Loki gasped, curling in on himself protectively in case an additional husky deckhand followed the first. Luckily, or unluckily, the man pulled him away from the ladder's base by his long ebony locks before another could climb down. Pressed against a broad chest and pinned there by a muscled arm about his neck, Loki squirmed fearfully as he was dragged deeper and deeper into the belly of the vessel. There was little light, given only by flickering flames in rusted lanterns and the dark atmosphere seemed to choke the captive merman.
When they finally halted, he watched them unlock the door to a large, metal cage, the ground within soaked beneath about a half an inch of water. It would be just enough to keep him from drying out completely. There was a set of shackles looped around the bars by a set of chains. They heaved him forward, into the horrible prison and threw him down.
His stomach dropped when he realized that they meant to keep him in the bowels of the ship for an unknown amount of time, likely alone and in the dark. Heart thudding heavily against his ribcage, he cried out in fear and resumed his struggling avidly. He didn't want this. He wanted to go home, to feel the currents of the ocean and to be with his father and brothers. They didn't understand.
He couldn't endure this.
But it was useless. He stood no chance against them.
His captors, each armed with four, strong, unbound and capable limbs, dominated him with nearly no effort. He was literally out of his element, surrounded by strangers with no one to give him aid. Pinned, he was forced to remain still as they cut the ropes at his back and pulled his wrist to his front. Metal cuffs encircled one thin limb, and then the other and clicked into place tightly.
Once he was secured, they released him and backed away. He shuffled frantically to the corner of his prison, curling his bright tail close to his body defensively and testing his chains. His wide, green eyes flickered between each of the large men as they retreated. The last was tall, burley and marked with tattoos. He slammed the door to the cage shut forcefully, eyeballing the merman as he nursed a bruised eye. He shoved a key into the lock and then held it up, putting on display for the captive by his leering smile.
He muttered something in a mocking tone, though the language was one Loki was not familiar with.
He made no response, only continuing to stare back in fear, chest heaving.
Chuckling to himself, the human retreated and followed the others as they ascended the ladder to the deck above. In the distance, Loki could hear the excited shouts of the crew, no doubt ecstatic about capturing such a rare being of the sea.
Loki could not bear to listen to the disorderly festivity that resulted from his imprisonment and turned his attentions elsewhere.
Shivering from pain and the adrenalin coursing through his system, he glanced around the pen. His movements were jerky as grabbed at the bars, yanking and pulling, trying to find a means of escape. Though he used all of his remaining strength, they held without a hint of weakness. Disappointed coursed through him and he gave his chains the same treatment, hoping for a faulty link. But like the cage, they didn't yield. Still determined and desperate, he bit furiously at the cuffs around his wrists, trying to find a weakness. His slightly pointed teeth only scraped over the metal, not even leaving a mark.
He stopped and rested his forehead against the metal bindings, his quaking hands reaching up to cling to the cage. A shaky breath escaped from shivering lips and he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself.
He couldn't believe it. One moment he had been free, the next….
It had happened so fast.
The weather had been far warmer since the summer seasons had commenced. Ever since he had been but a little pup, Loki had enjoyed swimming to the surface of the ocean and breaking through its watery shell to enjoy the open air. It was relaxing, though strikingly different from the flowing atmosphere of his ocean home. There was a small island, perhaps only a mile or two long, that he had found during one of his earliest visits and had come to frequent passionately. He had loved the change and had embraced every chance to lie upon it's sandy beaches.
Of course, with each journey to the surface, Loki didn't stay in the open sun too long. Merfolk did not do well in the sunlight. Their skin was soft and unused to the direct waves of the sun. They burned quickly and often became too dehydrated on land. It was not a common thing for his kind to shed their tails and walk on land, as the sea was their natural home and its dangers were known to them.
His father had warned him of the hazards above water. But Loki was careful. He made sure not to be in the open too long. He stayed alert.
But all it took was one time. One moment of stupidity…
He had been breathing the beautiful open air and relishing in the feeling of his lungs pumping within his breast when he broke the surface. The gills along his sides had closed, and the sensation of the pulsing organs coming to life had him enthralled. Laying beneath the shade of some palm trees, he had become drowsy. His glistening tail dipping into the salt water as he lounged comfortably on soft sand between some rocks. He hadn't seen the harm in giving into relaxation this one time.
But falling asleep had been the biggest mistake of his young life.
The ship must have spotted him from afar or perhaps they had simply wished to visit the island. He guessed that they had come ashore from another spot and had crept upon his slumbering form. Loki didn't know. He had woken when a course net had been thrust over his body, dragging him from the beach and fully into the water. He had scrambled into consciousness, groggily grabbing at the stones that aligned the shore where he napped. Panic had clouded his tired mind as he was thrust into wakefulness. His fingers had given way and slipped, leaving him to their mercy.
Loki sighed to himself and closed his eyes to the darkness around him.
His torn fin smarted with discomfort. He opened his eyes, curling his tail close so he could observe the wound.
Gingerly, he released the bars and strained with the chains to prod it with gentle fingers. He whimpered as it throbbed more intensely at the touch. He glanced around the bare prison. There was nothing to bind it with, and no weeds or clays to alleviate the pain. Biting his lip, he pressed a pale hand to the wound and held it there. If nothing else, he would try to keep the injury from getting any worse.
The rest of his body was in pain as well, as from the moment they had grappled him off the beach they had been exceedingly rough with their captive.
When they had first surrounded him with some men in a paddle boat holding the lead of the net, he fought. The rest had stood in the sand, kicking and prodding him back into the water and towards the small vessel. A few of them had sticks and had thwacked at him, herding him offshore. Twisting and writhing in the woven mesh, they hauled him through the ocean and towards their large, wooden craft., all the while striking him with their oars. Try though he might, the merman hadn't been able to free himself as they drew him up and over the side of the ship, effectively kidnapping him from his aquatic home.
He shouldn't have fallen asleep.
Taking in a shuddering breath, he pressed on his wound harder, hissing at the pain, but thankful for the shocking feeling. He couldn't handle the emotions swelling in him at the moment and the pain was a good distraction. He sat, listening to the excited crew above as a numbness came over him. The depth of his situation dawned and he struggled to smother his distress.
Eventually, he laid down in the dank smelling water, hugging his elegant appendage to his pale chest and stared into the shadows.
After about an hour or so of sitting alone and in the dim light, Loki's ears caught a sound different from the revelry. Having been forced to listen to the rowdy sea men above, the sloshing of waves against wood and the constant creaking of beams for an unprecedented amount of time, he perked up at the sound of heavy boots. He sat up once more, fins twitching in anticipation as the new human came into sight.
Instantly, he knew that this one was unlike the others.
The sailors who had been responsible for his capture had been rough and dressed in simple cotton shirts and pants, held up by belts. They had boots of strong leather, with ink patterns and scars all over their husky bodies. As harsh sea men of the waves, they were forged in hardship and struggle. But that wasn't what made this man different. He was just as thick, and just as marked up as the rest of them. His clothes, while the product of a finer tailor and quality than perhaps the rest, were not unique.
He had a magnificent coat of black dyed leather, and his boots climbed up to his knees, with trousers tucked under their folds. He had a face of dark scruff and his hair was cut short, almost completely shaven off. Three bald lines rounded the side of his head from the brow to the back of his skull. He had dark powder around his eyes and ink curling up his throat. His face was sunken and his lips were thin. Almost every finger bore jeweled, golden rings and his right ear was pierced with multiple hoops and studs. Some of the other sailors had had ornaments such as this, but not to the same extent.
But what terrified Loki more than the man's appearance, was the undoubting aura of dominance he carried. This man was no follower. He was a leader, the one who gave commands and anticipated his word to be followed without delay. He expected to be obeyed.
The merman watched as the human walked close and wrapped a tattooed hand around one of the bars. He peered into the cage as he hung another lantern on a low beam, brightening through the darkness. The scales of Loki's tail glistening like fractured sapphires and emeralds in the low glow.
The man's mouth cracked into a crooked smile under a hawking nose.
He spoke, voice guttural and deep, in a language that Loki did not understand. The same dialect as the others no doubt. The merman watched him through green, hooded eyes, thinning his lips as he made no indication of understanding.
The man frowned at the lack of response. Muttering to himself before opening his mouth again.
"What is your name?" He furrowed his brow. "Can you understand me?"
Loki's heart dropped as the words met his ears, this time comprehensible. He honestly hadn't been expecting to distinguish anything the human said. His blood ran cold and he glanced away.
Evidently, the human noticed his shock, and he grinned again.
"So you can understand me." He said, tapping a finger against the metal bars that separated them. "I wasn't sure if your kind spoke any of the languages of men. Thankfully, I know many."
Loki kept his gaze on his clenched hands.
"Again, what is your name?"
Silence.
The man shifted his weight, eyeballing the quietly resistant captive. He huffed a gentle laugh, shaking his head. The prisoner made an extra effort not to react, keeping his breathing even.
"Fine. Keep your precious name. I'll have your tongue wagging later." Loki swallowed at the meaning behind the words, fins twitching minutely in nervousness as he continued. "I hardly believe it when Nilg came clambering to my cabin, interrupting my much-needed sleep and telling me he caught a fish-man. Nearly bashed his head in. You're a thing of myth and legends, fish-boy. Like giants and elves, only you're real."
Loki wasn't sure was elves or giants were, but he definitely didn't like being called a "fish-boy".
The man reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a large ring of keys. Loki watched with anticipation crawling up his back as the human picked through the keys. He selected the one for the cage and shoved it into the lock, turning it so that the gadget gave way with a metallic clang. With a forceful push, the cage door swung open.
Suddenly panicked, Loki hurriedly shuffled deeper into the corner, terrified as his captor moved forward in large strides.
He tried to shrink further when the man thrust his hand forward, snatching him by his ebony hair and lifting him bodily. Gasping in pain, Loki tried to grab at the offending wrist with his bound hands, tail sloshing through the water in jolting, frightened movements.
Forcefully tilting the merman's head back, the man drew him close, studying Loki in the dim light. The sea creature froze, chest heaving in panic.
"You're very beautiful." A thick finger traced Loki's arching cheekbones, the appendage travelling lightly down his neck and halting at the dip of his collarbone. Dark eyes then fell on the shivering tail and the human's free hand touched it lightly, palming it freely. "Magnificent."
Loki jumped to life at the grouping, earnestly trying to wriggle away. The man released him suddenly and Loki fell back, drawing in on himself defensively. He hissed in fright, flapping his fins with agitation. His injury stung, but his fear overwhelmed the pain.
The man laughed, finding Loki's frantic actions delightfully amusing. He raised his hands in a placating way, smiling widely.
"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He cocked his head, meeting Loki's piercing glare evenly. "Well, not yet. Not if you do as you are told. I'm willing to give you a reprieve for now, considering the drastic change of scenery you've just experienced. But you need to calm down."
Loki grit his teeth and scowled at the human. He didn't understand what exactly the man meant, but he was certain his intentions were far from pure. He slapped his tail at the man's legs, causing him to stumble. The human huffed a laugh and caught himself with the bars of the cage.
Once he had righted himself he turned a pair of piercing eyes on the merman. Despite the apparent chuckle, the darkness in the man's face betrayed any sense of amusement.
One of the heavily jeweled hands came down, striking Loki harshly across the face. His head snapped to the side, bouncing hard against the side of the cage with an audible crack. The action caused his eyes to blur and sting with hot tears for the second time that day. Dazed by the blow, he looked up blearily, crimson blood once again slipping down his chin from a jagged rip in his lip.
The man bent down grasping Loki's chin in his hand and running his thumb over the blood. He smeared it across the white skin of Loki's chin. He smiled, biting his tongue lightly between his teeth.
"I told you to calm down." He reached up and caressed Loki's head, ignoring the flinch the merman gave at the contact. The human sighed, cocking his head to the side and raising an observant brow. "You'll learn eventually. I don't tend to tolerate unruly slaves."
