A young Francis felt his head slam against the hard wooden deck of the sailing ship. Just one more injury to add to the growing list he had already acquired. This one though had him seeing stars as he tried to collect himself together again. A man somewhere laughed cruelly at his vain attempts. The familiar voice could only belong to the man he had known as his uncle once upon a time. The same man who had gained guardianship of him with the death of his parents and had brought him aboard this merchant ship for entertainment on his long journeys.

Francis settled for just trying to keep his eyes open, but his sight felt hazy. There had been many nights of this torture, a few had been much worse than the others, but none had been as bad as tonight was. His body ached, his skin marred by numerous fresh bruises to cover the old, and he was bleeding in several places. And that was just the damage that could be seen.

A few crew members argued with each other. Apparently some felt they wouldn't be getting their turns with the quickly fading boy. Francis paid them little mind. It wouldn't matter much anyway what the outcome was. What he wanted now more than anything was to leave them to join the comfort that came with the steadily growing darkness pulling at him.

He felt someone prod him in the side, but he was too tired to wince at the pain that it caused. There was more talking, but it seemed to be so far away. Rest felt close enough to take, and Francis could feel himself drifting away. He hardly registered that someone was lifting him and carrying him somewhere. The where didn't truly matter. It would either be to the cell where he spent most of his days or someone's private chambers. The walk didn't last that long though, and instead he was now hearing the sounds of the sea and the wind much clearer. Was he outside? When was the last time he had been above deck?

The movement stopped for the briefest of moments and during that short time, Francis's mind relaxed. It would be over soon, wouldn't it? He could finally rest. He would have smiled had he been able to move at all. Next was the feeling of falling and by the time he hit the surface of the cold hard water he had blacked out and his unconscious body sank from view.

"You sure he's not dead? He kinda looks like it."

"Gilbert! Will you please stop talking? The transformation process takes time and your continual talking is giving me a sore head."

Francis kept his eyes closed, though he wasn't sure he could open them yet anyways. He couldn't recognize any of these voices. Angels, perhaps? Maybe he had finally perished and he was about to be greeted by those who would lead him on to the next life. He hoped it was everything nice like they said.

"But we are going to keep him, right?"

"Of course Antonio! Who would be if we didn't take him home with us?"

"Really, Romulus? He is not a pet."

If this was heaven, then the people already here are strange.

Feeling more awake, Francis let his eyelids slowly drift open and waited for his vision to focus. When they did, the only thing he saw were pink and green eyes staring back.

"He lives!" the pink-eyed one laughed. Francis simply stared in return, unsure which pair of widely grinning faces to look at.

"Alright, that's enough. Give the boy some room." Both heads disappeared and it took another moment for Francis's eyes to adjust, now seeing two much older men. The brunette grinned and gave a small wave and the blonde with long hair looked on with rigid seriousness. "Are you alright? Can you speak?"

Francis thought for a moment, recalling words and sentences before giving a small nod. "Yes…"

The boy with pink eyes cheered "Success!" earning him a glare from the older blonde. The small brunette laughed, his green eyes sparkling in happiness.

"Can you tell us your name?" The older brunette asked, smiling widely as he leaned closer to hear the answer. Francis had to think a while to remember what he had been called previously, before he had been brought aboard the ship. "F-Francis."

"It's great to meet you, Francis. I'm Romulus." The brunette pointed to his stern looking friend. "And this Gerhart." The blonde gave a short nod.

"Alright, my turn." The loud boy cut in. "I am the awesome Gilbert! And this," he waved a hand to indicate his friend, "is the less awesome, but still pretty cool Antonio." Antonio smiled brightly.

Francis's eyes traveled around the mostly stupidly grinning group that sat around him. They were all fairly strange, strangest being that they were sitting around him on a vacant beach without a stitch of clothing to cover themselves with. He knew why he hadn't been wearing anything prior to this meeting, but it didn't explain why they were not, or how any of them had arrived at this place. Hadn't he previously been on a ship at sea?

"How…?" Francis asked, trying to sit up though his head spun.

"Hey, take it easy." The one called Romulus placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Francis flinched at the contact and missed the adults exchanging worried glances.

"I will explain everything." Gerhart started as Francis relaxed slightly on the sand. "The four of us were traveling when we passed by the ship you were on and my son wanted to stop even though I specifically told him no." He directed a glare at Gilbert. "We saw you fall overboard and rescued you." He hesitated a moment as he studied the boy's face for any sort of reaction. "It didn't seem that they were looking to take you with them, and we brought you here to wait for you to wake up."

That all made reasonable sense to Francis, though where the ship they had traveled in was or still why they would be in the nude had yet to be answered.

"If you have nowhere else to go, you can come with us. We have plenty of room for one more." Romulus asked, his eyes searching the blue ones for an answer.

Francis tried once again, this time managing to sit up and look around the odd group. It was strange how they were asking him if he wanted to join them. They asked as though they would accept him saying no. But they seemed friendly enough, and what the man had said about having nowhere to go was true. After all, wasn't he supposed to be dead? Very slowly, he nodded his head. "Yes…"

"Awesome! You are going to love being a merman with us!" Gilbert cheered. Francis started and then stared as Gilbert gave a battle cry of "To the sea!" and lead the charge towards the crashing waves, Antonio a few steps behind him. Both boys jumped into the water and quickly disappeared beneath the surface.

Gerhart frowned in the direction his son had gone before warming ever so slightly to look at Francis again. "We aren't human, but we will take care of you. We did have to change you into one of us in order to save you from your wounds. I hope you can forgive us for that."

Francis couldn't stop staring. What were these people talking about? Mermen? Stories like that were simply that. Stories. He didn't believe in such things.

A white-haired head burst up out the water with a cocky grin. "Hey! Any slower and you'll become a fish fillet! Come on in! The water's awesome!" The boy dove below the surface and a large tail splashed as he once again disappeared. Francis blinked several times.

"Shall we go? Do you need a hand up?" Francis looked at the hand Romulus offered to him. This was all crazy, but he somehow felt at peace with these people. He felt he could trust them and so he tentatively placed his hand into Romulus's, allowing the man to gently pull him to his feet.

He followed the two men as they walked the short distance down the beach to the water. His body still ached, his skin was a terrible shade of black and blue bruises, and he was heavily limping. Still, he managed to carry himself to the water's edge. He watched as Romulus and Gerhart strode in and sank into the water, leaving only their heads and the tops of their shoulders out.

"It's alright." Romulus called, lifting a hand above the water to wave him in. Francis took a hesitant step forward, allowing the water to wash over his toes. It felt comfortable, and he wanted nothing more than to be in it. A few more steps and he too sunk down into the water leaving only his head out.

Things felt strange and he glanced down to find that where his legs once were a tail had taken its place. He moved it back and forth through the water slowly and twitched the fins at the end testing them. When he was finished he looked at the adults who beckoned him to join them and went beneath the surface. With a final glance towards the vacant beach, Francis followed his new family's lead.

"Took you long enough!" Gilbert swam easy circles around the struggling Francis. "Your swimming style is so un-awesome. You seriously look like your drowning. Keep that up and you'll be attracting sharks." Francis shot him a glare.

"Enough Gilbert, he's learning. These things take time." Gerhart chided. The boy shrugged and continued to circle.

"I've been meaning to ask, were you in a fight?" Francis carefully watched the boy. "Because you look like you were. Hope you won though." He flashed a bright grin. The adults tensed as they listened in.

"A fight would require both sides fighting, no?" Francis said slowly, looking away from the albino.

Gilbert's face fell as he understood the meaning of the words and he stopped swimming, drifting slightly in the water. "Oh." He was quiet a moment and then swam forward to grasp one of Francis's hands in his own. "Then I will make you my friend and we spend time together doing whatever I think is awesome." Francis smiled slightly at his ridiculous new friend.

"Me too! We will be a trio!" Antonio grabbed his other free hand. Francis laughed a little, the first time he had in a long time, and let himself be pulled along towards a new life, forgetting everything that had happened in his previous one.

In a way, Francis had died that night and had been reborn.

Many years later…

Francis easily propelled himself through the warm waters that he had come to call his home. Sunlight filtered through the water, sparkling off of his dark blue scales and he marveled in his own beauty. There were not many who could compare to his long flowing fins and he took great pride in the way he could effortlessly glide his way through corals and beds of kelp.

The day was still young and Francis had found himself without the company of his friends, something that had become rare. Antonio was off chasing down the Italian ships he found himself so fond of and Gilbert was preoccupied tormenting another of their kind. This left Francis to his own devices for the afternoon and had chosen to take a leisurely swim, gracefully winding his way through the deeper waters and darting schools of fish.

The sun was at its apex in the sky and Francis felt relaxed, rolling onto his back to allow the ocean currents to carry him along when something above him caught his eye. A shadow bobbing on the surface on an otherwise empty sea. Curiosity peaked, he swam upwards approaching the bottom of what appeared to be a small dinghy. Easing his head above the surface, he studied the small craft. It looked as though it were only capable to hold a handful of people so long as they didn't mind being close with one another. The wood appeared old and worn, a name painted on the side no longer visible. It was a craft that should be attached to a much larger vessel, not floating by itself.

Francis circled the boat, examining it from all angles as he pondered why it would be here. The seas had been calm, so it was not likely that it could have lost during a storm. Perhaps there had been an accident and the original ship had been lost. A great naval battle between two warring factions, or pirates commandeering a weaker ship for what supplies or riches could be gained. His mind ran wild with the possibilities that could have come with the small wooden craft and when he had seen all sides of the exterior he approached the side. Wrapping his fingers over the ledge and flicking his fail, he lifted himself high enough for his eyes to see inside. When he caught sight of the human lying on the bottom he was quick to release the boat and push himself away.

From several feet below, Francis watched the distorted image awaiting movement of the occupant. Several minutes passed and nothing happened causing him to suspect whether the human would move at all. Another minute of waiting, and he silently broke through the surface of the water to stare at the craft. There were no sounds from inside, only those made by the gentle sloshing of the water against the wooden planks. Maybe whoever it was that was inside of the vessel was dead. There could only be one way to confirm such a conclusion, and Francis gingerly repeated his earlier motions to peer inside once again.

The human hadn't moved, but Francis could see the gentle rise and fall of the man's chest indicating some form of life. His dark blue eyes searched the interior, though there was nothing inside it besides the man, his coat, and a hat. There were no oars or provisions and nothing was on the horizon to indicate that any would be arriving to claim the wayward boat. Francis rested his forearms on the edge so that he could better study the man that lay before him. Whoever he was, he was blonde and his eyebrows appeared to be overtaking his forehead, and though he wore a plain shirt and trousers, his coat and hat were decorated. Francis rested his cheek against one of his arms as he watched. The man appeared to be in a fitful sleep. It was possible he could have been in the boat for days and without food or water and he would not be surviving for much longer.

Francis looked on for a minute longer while he made up his mind. It had to be pity for the poor creature that he felt and what was coercing him into wanting to help. He knew these waters well and knew that there was a small island not far from them, though it would take most of the rest of the day for them to reach it. Sliding back into the water, he positioned himself at the stern and began to push using large strokes of his tail and slowly the strange company began to move towards distant land.

The sun was waning by the time the island was in reach. Francis was exhausted from the exertion, dropping into the shallow water as soon as the boat bumped against the sand that formed the beach. He lay still for a long while, muscles twitching from exertion, and not even realizing that he had fallen asleep until the light of the rising sun heralded the new day.

His eyes opened slowly, feeling disoriented and having to recall where he had been the night before. He had been swimming, and then there was a boat, and a human. Francis sat up, the tide having come in while he slept and he now sat in water that reached his shoulders. The boat was drifting slightly, the bottom of it brushing against the sand and keeping it from heading back out to sea and as there had been before there were no signs of movement or sounds coming from within it. Francis considered if he should check on the man inside, wondering if perhaps he had arrived too late to be of any help to the man inside. While he thought about it, there was a noise on the beach and Francis turned to meet the man himself standing before him. The man paused when he saw Francis, then stood up straight to address him. "Ah, I see you're finally awake. I have fruit here for breakfast if you eat that sort of thing." When Francis made no indications, he took that as affirmation and gently tossed one so that it landed with a splash within arm's reach. Francis stared at the fruit, causing the man to roll his eyes. "All I did was pick it."

His stomach grateful for the small meal, Francis bit into the fruit hungrily, his meal partner following soon after. The fruit was a bit too under-ripe for his liking, but he assumed a starving man would pay little attention to such things. The man had taken a seat on the sand and was watching him with interest in his green eyes. "I suppose I have you to thank for rescuing me from my predicament?" Francis gave a slow nod as he continued to eat. "Then I am in your debt. I should hope to repay you for kindness someday if it is possible."

Francis raised an eyebrow at the strange man as he swallowed what was left of his morning meal. "You don't seem too surprised at me existing."

The man's polite facade slipped a little as he looked at the merman before him. "I once cared for a unicorn foal that had lost his parent and am well versed in all manner of mystical creatures, but your voice..." His large eyebrows furrowed as he thought.

"Unicorns?" Francis gave a laugh. "I don't believe that they are real."

"They are real..." Arthur scowled. "And your accent... You're bloody French aren't you?"

Francis pursed his lips as he thought. "Originally, though it has been some years since I have laid eyes of French shores." He flashed a dazzling smile at the irritated man on the beach. "And I would not need to guess that by that reaction you are indeed English."

"Of course I am, you sod!" The man angrily kicked at the sand. "I have the worst luck possible to have been rescued by a frog!"

"I think I qualify as something a little less amphibious..."

"Be quiet!" The man shouted before hanging his head and bemoaning his existence. "Why do these things happen to me?"

With a frown Francis churned the water with his tail from where he sat in the waves. "I'm sure it has something to do with your personality."

"I don't suppose there is any way we can hurry along some form of repayment...?" The man asked hopefully.

Francis shook his head with a devious grin. "And lose your precious company? Are you that eager to spend the rest of your days trapped alone on this little island?"

The man was quiet as he seemed to think through the situation. "You wouldn't care to tell me exactly where we were, would you?"

Francis crossed his arms, looking smugly at the man on the beach. "And what would I get out of such an arrangement?"

"Why the bloody hell would I have to trade something for the information?!" The man cursed a few more times to the amusement of Francis who looked on.

"How about this: I will tell you what I know if you were to share who you are and how you came to be sailing in a craft with no oars?" Francis watched the man as he seemed to have an internal argument with himself over whether or not he should speak such information or not. With what he had learned so far from the man, it seemed likely that his ship had sunk and he had forgotten to put such necessities into his life raft as he escaped.

"Fine, I will tell you, but then you must share with me everything." He glared at Francis with an unspoken threat. "I am Captain Arthur Krikland and I came to be in that boat," he nodded his head in the direction of the innocently bobbing craft, "because my crew decided they no longer wanted to work underneath me and set me a float to die a slow death on the sea."

Francis considered the information and cast a questioning eye at the captain. "So it was mutiny?"

With a grimace and nod, Arthur confirmed the statement. "Yes... now about the information...?"

"Why that punishment?" Francis ignored the man, unable to keep the interest in his voice hidden. "I thought that punishments on ships were walking the plank, or being keel hauled?"

Arthur paled slightly at discussing his possible methods of demise. "They... uh... thought it best suited that I die slowly..."

"How cruel." Francis nodded sympathetically. It had to be pity that he was reacting this way, he could think of no other explanation. "I will help you Captain Arthur, but I won't forget that you still owe me your life."

"Of course you wouldn't..." Arthur muttered, glaring again.

"There is not much that is within sailing distance of this island. Mostly more islands like this one." Francis explained.

"So what you're saying..." Arthur paused as he took everything in, "is that I am stuck here?"

Francis gave a small shrug. "Unless you're hoping to be rescued."

Arthur shook his head. "Then I'm stuck here, with a bloody French merman until death finally takes me."

"Look on the bright side," Francis grinned, "you have me to keep you company."

That was not something the captain had wanted to hear or would remotely consider being among the things to keep him optimistic if he ever was such to begin with. He grimaced once again, moving to stand and approaching the edge of the waves. "Well, this is all brilliant." He rolled the legs of his trousers up and kept a watchful eye of Francis as he stepped in heading towards the small boat.

Francis watched as the man attempted to single handily pull the boat to shore, and when it was no longer amusing to watch the other struggle he offered his help, swimming behind it and pushing. Arthur looked back in shock, and taking a few steps away from the wooden craft. "Wha-what are you doing? Stay out in the water!"

Francis frowned as he ducked his head into view of the other. "I am helping you."

The man stood where he was, staring at the merman. "I do not need your help!"

With a roll of his eyes, Francis replied back, "I think that you do. The two of us can manage it, so quit standing there." Reluctantly, Arthur stepped forward again to take hold of the craft and between the two of them were able to pull the boat to shore. However, when the water became too shallow, Francis was unable to assist any longer, and finding himself weary once again, lay down in the receding water to rest.

He shouldn't have, he knew he shouldn't have, but he was too tired to care and doubted if the human would be capable of hurting him. Francis closed his eyes, feeling the small waves pulse around him as they were drawn back out towards the sea and he could hear the heavy breathing of the man as he felt the similar need for a break. The breathing drew closer and Francis opened his eyes to see Arthur standing just outside arm's reach. "Shouldn't you go back into the water? Won't you dry out?"

Francis closed his eyes once again. "I would rather spend time here on the beach with you~"

"Git..." Arthur spat at him. "Go back into the bloody water!" With a sudden fit of laughter he looked down at him and asked, "Unless you are planning on pathetically pulling yourself along on your belly." He grinned with sure triumph at the victorious feeling.

With a small chuckle, Francis lifted his tail from the water, and watching as Arthur took a quick step back unsure at what he was doing. He waited as the water droplets ran off his fins and the tail receded to form two legs that felt strange to have once again. Arthur had become silent, his green eyes wide as he watched Francis turn and get his feet beneath him and stand up shakily. His smile was wide as he met the fearful gaze of the captain that was backing away, and the entire image would have been perfect had he not lost his balance and fallen forwards into the sand in the most ungraceful manner possible. There were fresh peals of laughter, and Francis looked up with a snarl to see Arthur doubled over with uncontrollable laughter. "You think that's funny? I ought to drag you out into the water and watch you try to swim."

All laughter ceased, and Arthur looked down with worry at Francis kneeling and trying to brush off the sand that stuck his chest. "I see..." He stood back as Francis pulled himself further onto the beach and rested comfortably. "I still do not know your name."

Francis looked over, smiling pleasantly. "You can refer to me, dear captain, as Francis." He gave a small gestured bow with the introduction.

Arthur scoffed. "Francis? You couldn't find a more French name if you tried." His eyes left Francis's blue pair, travelling down his bare chest and quickly returning up. "And why are you naked?!"

Francis shrugged uncaring. "I have no use for clothing as it would hinder my graceful movements and natural beauty. Enjoy the view. I am quite beautiful, no?" Francis enjoyed the gagging sound the other made, smiling happily as he watched the sea, until something hit him in the head.

"If you insist on spending time with me on the land, then you are required to clothe yourself. Wear that." Francis held out the long jacket that was thrown at him, needing a minute to recall how one wore such objects.

"Does this mean that you will wear less if you came into the water~?" The curses were like music to his ears as he as he pulled his arms through the sleeves of the jacket. The fabric felt foreign against his skin and a bit too constricting, and when he had oriented it correctly he turned and balanced himself on his knees to show the man. "How does it make me look? Do you think I look better with such garb?" He held his arms out modelling the article.

Arthur crossed his arms, his face slightly flushed as he looked away. "It would look better if you were to close up the front..."

AN: This will most likely only be 2-3 chapters long.