Hello! Well, I almost forgot I was posting something today, but luckily I remembered before I ran off for work. XD This is what happens when I don't set little reminders for myself or something. SO, this is another of the 100 prompts; number 36, 'Precious Treasure.' With JayDami, because I needed more of it, and pirates and merpeople because I couldn't help myself. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings for: some violence, and a brief non-consensual sorta kiss.
The first glimpse of pale skin freezes Damian's breath in his throat, and he immediately shifts behind a tree to hide his own form. Then he edges his head around the other side of the tree, to get a look at what he thinks he's seen. And he has.
There's a man in the rock-lined pool, arms crossed on the edge and a head of black hair pillowed on them, the pale skin of his back glimmering faintly in the sun shining down through the intermittent shade of the trees. He can see the corded muscle in the man's arms, the defined lines of more where his shoulder blades are standing slightly out beneath his skin from the angle of his arms. He lets his gaze slide down those lines to the man's waist, where skin transitions to scales that shine a dark, almost-black red.
He has to swallow as he follows those scales along the length of a long, powerful, deadly looking tail. It's resting in the water right now, half-hidden except for the way it twitches every couple of seconds, disturbing the water and hinting at the kind of strength it holds.
This is actually better than he was hoping for.
There were stories of a mermaid somewhere on the island, hiding in the shoals maybe, and he desperately needs to prove his skill to the ship he's stationed on. This has been a test, to see if he can prove himself to a crew and if he's willing to grind his ways up the ranks without the name of his family behind him. So far, he's not doing as well as he'd like. He can do the jobs, but he's young and he knows that things are being made purposefully difficult for him because of who he is.
Though only the captain of the ship knows that information, so theoretically if he just killed the captain — quietly, of course — things would become much easier.
Finding a mermaid was a long shot, but they're anchoring at the island for a week, and everyone's been given leave to do whatever they wish for those days, as long as they're back before the ship sails again. Anyone who delays the ship's launch will get as many lashes as the hours they've delayed, with one of the heaviest whips on board.
He's seen the first mate's skill with that whip; he has no interest in being under it.
What he was not expecting was a merman instead of a maid. The males, from what he's heard, are both exceptionally more rare, and generally much more dangerous. Bigger, stronger, and aggressively vicious in a way that the women aren't. The women will lure first, get a human entranced and close before striking and tearing them to shreds. The men don't bother; they chase.
If he brings a merman back, that has to earn him respect.
It takes all of his skill to fight the pounding of his heart so he can circle the clearing without making any noise that might rouse the merman from his sleep. Every step is terrifying in its own right, each touch of his foot to the ground a chance for this to turn to blood and probably his own death. He manages to circle all the way around so he's at the merman's back, and then creep into the clearing until he's standing just above the creature, careful that his shadow doesn't block the light shining down on that faintly glimmering skin. The occasional lines of thick scars — most of which look like claw or bite marks — prove that however deeply this creature is sleeping, it's clearly survived many fights and injuries to make it this far.
He draws his knife, fits it between his teeth, and then gets a hold of the loop of rope he's carrying at his waist with both hands. He takes in a deep, silent, breath, and drops all of his weight down through one knee, which he plants right in the center of the merman's back.
The merman jerks, gasping out a sound of breathless pain as he grabs at those wrists. He manages to get a loop of rope around one of them before the merman starts to struggle, and it takes all his focus to shove the creature back down and keep him held there. He can hear the splashes of that tail, the heavy thump of it against what must be the bottom of the pool, and a cold chill runs down his spine at the thought of what facing something like this in the water would be like. The damage that tail could do.
One hand reaches back, rakes furrows down his lower left arm to where he has his hand wrapped in the merman's hair to pin his head down. He yelps around the knife in his teeth but refuses to release his grip, jerking the merman's head back and then slamming it against the rock in retaliation. That stuns the creature, and he quickly wraps the rope around both those wrists and jerks them together, fingers moving deftly to tie one of the more secure knots he knows. And then a second, just in case.
He takes half a second to breathe, grabbing the knife from between his teeth and then shifting his weight off of the merman. It takes basically all the strength he has to grip the creature and drag him a few more feet out of the pool, flipping him onto his back. He pushes one knee down across the merman's shoulder, a physical reminder, as he flicks the knife down underneath that human throat and presses it up. He curls his other hand into the black hair — there's a streak of white in it, hanging over the left side of his forehead — and jerks the merman's head back, forcing the creature to look at him.
Blue-green eyes, looking just the shade of the ocean on its calmer days, glare up at him, white teeth bared as the creature hisses through them, clearly furious. There's blood slipping from a swelling cut above its right eyebrow, probably from that impact with the rock. He glares right back, keeping his grip tight as he takes a look at the cuts on his arm. He's bleeding, and fairly badly by the look of it, but the gashes look fairly shallow. It shouldn't be that hard to patch.
The merman's hands are flexing, testing the rope around them, and he jerks on the black hair in warning. "Stop that," he snaps. The merman doesn't even flinch, just shows a little more teeth and tugs harder at the restraints, tail starting to twist inside the pool. He presses his knee down harder, yanks at the hair and snarls, "Cease, or I will open your throat right here, beast."
Water hits him in the side of the head, drenching his upper half in a moment and making him sputter and flinch. He looks back at the pool, and a second splash hits him right in the face. He gets his eyes back open in time to see the merman's tail dip back below the water, and to turn around so the third splash hits his back instead.
"Stop!" he demands, with a sharp glare.
The merman is grinning, vicious and angry but then those teeth part and the creature starts to laugh. Fearless, apparently unconcerned by the knife at his throat, even when he presses it a little bit harder down and it just barely splits skin.
"I know you can understand me, beast. Stop, or I will kill you here and take only your tail back to show to my captain. Do not test me."
He thinks he makes it sound believable, but then the creature is suddenly lashing out, bound hands grabbing his wounded arm and squeezing down. He gasps at the sharp pain, and the creature snarls and grips even tighter, with an almost inhuman level of strength.
"Don't test me, pirate," the merman growls, in a low voice he'd sooner relate to large, wild beasts with mouths full of teeth and fangs. Not this beautiful but ultimately deadly creature.
"Release me, or—"
"Don't make threats you can't keep." The merman gives him a vicious grin, nails digging into the wounds on his arm in a way that makes his breath catch. "You don't know what you're messing with, kid. I could shred your arm to bone in a second; you think you can hold me with one tiny piece of sharp metal? Walk away now and I'll let you live with nothing more than some fresh scars."
He swallows, unnerved by the promise of violence in the merman's eyes. Then he remembers the reason for hunting this creature down, remembers his name and his lineage, and steel reinforces his momentarily forgotten will. He bares his teeth and gives the lowest, darkest snarl he can manage, pressing his knee against the merman's shoulder with enough pressure that it has to be painful.
"You will listen to me, creature. I am Damian al Ghul, descended from the Queen of the Seas and the Law's Shadow, and you will release me or I will put this blade through your throat. I do not care how much more you are worth alive; you will submit or you will die."
The merman's mouth curls into a snarl. "You think you scare me, Damian?"
He digs the point of the knife into the merman's throat, drawing a bead of blood that slides off to the side. "Choose," he demands, steeling himself to the idea of killing this creature here and now. Giving up the idea of taking it back to the ship and claiming the respect he's deserved.
The merman considers him for a moment, eyes narrowed and teeth still bared, and then scoffs and lets go of his arm. "Whatever."
He tries not to wince at the pain in his arm, and tries to hold the blade steady. "Get out of the pool."
"Fuck you," the merman says, instantly and clearly with no intention of helping. He presses the blade a little harder to the merman's throat, draws another droplet of blood, but only gets a roll of those blue eyes. "Oh, knock it off, brat. Maybe you'll kill me for the sake of your own survival, or health, but you're sure as fuck not going to for this."
"I could hurt you," he threatens, tugging at the creature's hair.
That gets him a small snarl, and a sharp little snap of teeth against the air. "You want to see how fast I can break your arm?"
Unfortunately, he's pretty sure that's not a bluff. So he lets go of the creature's hair and grabs an arm instead, before carefully removing the knife from his throat. He gets an angry sounding hiss when he drags the merman up onto the land, and he ends up panting because dragging that much uncooperative weight is not an easy thing. Then he steps back, standing between the merman and the pool but safely out of range of a hit from that tail, and examines his arm a little more closely.
It hurts, but it's not too serious as far as he can tell, even with the blood trickling down his arm and hand. He bites back a sigh, leaning down to cut and tear off a strip from the bottom of his pants. He backtracks, first, to dip his arm into the pool to try and wash it clean, making sure to keep a careful eye on the merman.
It makes him a little nervous when the merman grins, rolling to his back and raising his bound hands. Then a lot more when the merman starts sucking the blood — his blood — off of his fingers, closing blue eyes like he's enjoying some kind of treat.
"What are you doing?" he asks, as he wraps his arm in the borrowed cloth, wincing at the pressure of it.
The merman looks over at him, slowly sucks another finger clean of blood. "Tasting you," he says afterwards, with a wicked smirk. "Any ocean, any fight; spill a drop in the water and I can track you, pirate. You should have done your research before you came after me."
He stares for a couple seconds, trying to process that, before shaking it off. "It does not matter. You will not get the chance to hunt me, beast."
"Jason."
He stiffens, then narrows his eyes as he ties off the bandage. "What?"
The merman lowers his hands, resting them on his chest and flipping the tip of his tail — a large, nearly blood-red fin — into the air. "My name is Jason. If you're going to drag me all the way across the island to sell off to your captain, you should know my name."
"How could you—?"
The merman, Jason, snorts. "Oh, come on. I know where your ship is, and you're sure as hell not the captain. Unless you're a moron, you know that there's no way you could keep me if you're not the captain. So you're dragging me back to sell off. The only question is why." Jason looks over at him, eyes narrowed. "Hunting me alone would have been one thing, but trying to catch me alone? How desperate are you, pirate? What have you done?"
"Nothing!" he snaps. "Bringing you back to the ship will gain me the respect I require to ascend the ranks. You are overestimating your own deadliness, Jason."
Jason's tail flips again, higher this time and hitting the ground with a thud he can almost feel from where he's standing. If Jason had managed to drag him into the water, if he hadn't ambushed the merman, that tail… One solid hit from that limb could have broken half his ribs, at the least.
Jason rolls to his stomach, pressing up on bound hands with a sneer. "No, I'm not."
It's flat truth in the words, and he believes them.
"It does not matter," he repeats. "I will present you to my captain, I will gain the respect I deserve, and I will be free of this wretched test of skill. You will not stop me from achieving that."
Jason snorts, turning his head back as he idly messes with the rope binding his hands. "Alright, Damian. So how are you planning to drag me across an island? Cause gotta say, if you're literally planning on dragging me by this rope, we're going to have a problem."
His gaze travels along the length of that tail, which flicks under his look, then up to the broad shoulders and muscle of Jason's back, and finally to bound hands and an amused grin.
He has to bite his tongue not to curse.
It takes him hours to rig up something that will actually carry Jason's weight without snapping, and that's after he drags the merman far enough away from the pool that he can work without worrying about any successful escape attempts.
Not that he apparently needed to worry, because Jason seems content to lie in the sun and watch him, making sarcastic comments that he tries not to listen or respond to. Jason's also entirely unhelpful in actually trying out the different litters, and those comments just continue as he finally makes one that works and starts out over the island.
His arm throbs, he's got a headache pounding at his temples, and the effort of lifting and pulling Jason along, even with the help of the litter, is extremely taxing. It isn't long before he's sore, breathing hard, clenching the rough handles of the litter in his hands as he grinds his teeth. It stays that way right up until the sun's set, and the last bits of light are fading away to make way for the moon.
There's still some light, but not enough to keep going on.
So he gets Jason out of the litter, uses the extra bits of the rope to tie his hands up against one tree, and goes to lie by a tree about twenty feet away. It's not all that comfortable, but he's slept on worse and in this case, it's fairly safe. Even if he is sore and frustrated, it's not enough to make a stupid mistake.
With that tail Jason is large and unwieldy outside of water, which means that if he does get loose, he's going to make more than enough noise to give warning. He'll be able to wake up and either get out of the way, or hunt Jason back down and drag him back.
When Jason questions, he says as much, and gets another of those snorts in answer.
He doesn't mean to fall asleep as quickly as he does, but the exhaustion gets to him. It's warm out, there's only the faint sounds of the island as background noise, and before even a few minutes he's falling right into blackness and crashing. Hard.
It shouldn't be as much of a surprise as it is to wake up with hands curling around his throat and slamming him onto his back.
He chokes, stares up at shadowed blue-green eyes and the flash of white teeth as Jason's grip tightens on his throat. There are legs to either side of his waist, not a tail, and Jason's hands are still bound but he's definitely not tied to that tree anymore. That realization makes him struggle, reaching for his knife as Jason slams him into the ground again and snarls.
"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now," the merman hisses.
He gets his knife up, the fingers of his other hand grabbing at Jason's waist as he presses the point of the metal to right between two of the merman's ribs. "You die with me," he gasps, digging his nails into Jason's skin as hard as he can manage. "I can get this in you before you strangle me."
Jason's fingers tighten a fraction more, teeth baring as he snarls, "I don't have to strangle you; all I need to do is crush your throat. It'll take a second."
He sucks in another breath, all too easily able to imagine the fingers on his throat just clenching down until bone gives and his windpipe collapses in on itself. He presses the blade down harder, knows he's split skin when Jason hisses through his teeth and twists away from it. He's not sure he can speak against the fingers on his throat, so he just bares his teeth and follows Jason with the blade, making sure it's aimed low and between ribs where it will do the most damage. If he can get it in once, that's painful. Twice, and he might stand an actual chance of killing the merman, if he can hit something important.
The hands on his throat let go with one final twist of fingers, and Jason irritably knocks the arm with the knife away from him with his bound hands, sitting back onto his waist with a huff. He drags in a breath, struggling not to cough it out again and forcing himself to brace his injured arm on the ground to hold himself partially up, the other hand clutching the knife in case Jason comes after him again.
Jason is studying him, hands lowered and resting on his stomach, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and then releasing it repeatedly. He catches his breath after a bit of struggle, wincing at the ache in his throat when he swallows, trying to forget about the way his arm is protesting the effort of holding him up.
He glances down to pale legs, and finds himself scowling. "Legs?" he almost spits. "You have legs, and you made me carry you across half the island?"
Jason's mouth curls into a grin that's a little less vicious than the rest of the ones that have been aimed at him. "Should have done your research." He glares, grinding his teeth together, and Jason laughs. "Seriously, how the hell did you think I got to that pool in the first place? Did you think I crawled the whole way?"
He only grinds his teeth harder, not willing to admit that he hadn't actually thought about it.
The merman shoves down on his stomach to push up, swinging off of him to sit over to the side. "Uh-huh."
He sits up, still holding the knife but it feels like scant protection now. Even with bound hands, Jason is nothing to be trifled with. That's clear enough.
"Why did you not kill me?" he asks, his voice coming out hoarse from the attack. Jason raises an eyebrow, and he gathers his legs in to be prepared to move, just in case. "You had me; why threaten instead of simply killing me while I slept?"
Jason tilts his head, studying him for a couple long moments. "Maybe I just want to know more about the crazy man who came after me on his own. Maybe you fascinate me." Unimpressed, he glares. Jason smirks. "No? Not going for that? Alright." Jason's legs stretch out, as if in deliberate contrast to his defensiveness, and the smirk widens a little bit. "Maybe there are fights I'm not interested in picking."
"You could have left instead then," he presses. "Why are you still here, beast?"
Jason shifts, head lowering, and his breath catches when in an instant the merman goes from playful to predatory. The smirk turns to a flash of teeth, blue eyes narrowing, hands curling against the ground as if in preparation to leap forward. He grips the knife tighter, and Jason releases a low, dangerous growl, the sound hitting some long forgotten instinct buried in the depths of him that insists he should run. The chill down his spine, the way his heart picks up, the sharp edge to his breathing, all things he thought he'd overcome long ago.
Shoulders curl in a bit, and his gaze focuses down on those teeth, on the muscle in Jason's arms as the merman slides into motion. He flinches as those legs gather underneath the creature, Jason's whole body edging forward like he's just barely restrained, like in a moment those muscles will release and those teeth will close on his throat.
"Run," comes the hiss. "Run as far and as fast as you can, human." His hands are shaking, the hilt of the knife digging into his hand and it's so pitiful of a defense against a beast like this. "You have no idea the hell that you've invited."
Jason slides forward, holding his gaze, teeth parting in a low, mocking laugh. He stays frozen.
"Descendant of great names? I am the Red Death. I've hunted more of your kind than you've ever met and torn them to bloody shreds in the water, little human. I've sunk more ships than the years you've lived, and left the sailors screaming in the sea for my kin to feast on. I am a nightmare." The merman lunges forward. "RUN!"
He lashes out, panic and anger solidifying into the desperate adrenaline to fight.
The tip of the knife catches Jason's cheek as it slashes past, opening a thin line that doesn't do nearly enough to stop the weight of the merman from crashing into him. He hits the ground on his back, bound hands catching his wrist and slamming it into the dirt above his head once, twice, until his fingers release the knife. He gasps, twisting underneath the heavier bulk and slamming a punch into the merman's side. Jason hisses, bows in a little from the blow, and then backhands him with the force of both his bound hands, snapping his head to the side.
It stuns him for a moment, and when he looks back up Jason is pulling against the rope, muscle straining, and it snaps. Horror washes over him, and he tries to scramble away, to put a little distance between them, but Jason shakes off the shreds of the rope and jerks forward to follow him. Hands slam his shoulders into the dirt, and Jason's mouth is parting, he's hissing, and gone are the white, human teeth. In their place is a mass of jagged, too-long, needle-sharp teeth that look like their only possible purpose is to rip flesh into tattered ribbons.
A cry bursts out of his throat, something instinctual and full of desperate rage, and he surges upwards against the half a pin. He gets about a half a foot up before Jason is slamming him back down with unnatural strength, and then those hands are wrapping around his lower arms and trapping them against the ground as the merman leans in. For a moment all he can see is teeth, and he writhes against the pin, snarling back because he has nothing else. The hand holding down his injured arm lets go, snaps up and grabs ahold of the side of his head instead, twisting it to one side to bare his throat and hold him still.
He shouts again, watching those teeth come down towards his neck, watching his own death.
And then blunt human teeth are closing on his throat, biting down hard enough to leave a clear imprint. He's frozen, still anticipating the razor slice of that mouth of teeth, up until Jason lets his neck go and leans back. His head is released, his momentarily free arm pressed down again. He shudders, carefully turning his head to look up, to meet Jason's narrowed eyes.
The merman's fingers tighten over his injured arm, and he winces and jerks against the hold, not that it gets him anywhere.
"Most humans," Jason says, almost in a whisper, "would have run from me, or frozen and just waited for me to eat them." The merman leans down, their faces only inches apart. "Maybe I haven't left because I'm not done playing with you yet, little human."
He manages to calm the fight-or-flight instinct rampaging through his veins enough that he can spit, "Am I being played with?"
Jason's gaze lowers, lingering somewhere near the hollow of his throat. "Are you dead?"
He jerks a little bit, and then Jason is laughing, low and dangerous. His arms are pressed down a bit harder, and then Jason leans down and nips at his throat, still with only the human teeth. He can't contain his flinch, or the way his hands curl into fists as adrenaline spikes again.
"If you didn't interest me, I would have ripped your throat open the moment you tried to capture me," Jason hisses into his ear. "You're mine now, little human. My prey. Run; give me a chase I'll remember."
He twists his head, coming face to face with the merman and baring his teeth. "I will not run from you," he snarls. "I am not some prey to be tracked and skinned, and I belong to no one. Kill me if that is your intention, but I will not provide you entertainment."
For a moment that almost stops his heart, Jason looks hungry. He tenses up, steels himself to the idea of those needle teeth biting into his throat, and then Jason's mouth is sliding into a slow grin.
"Think you've got a choice, little human?"
A knee plants in his gut, driving the air out of him, and then his injured arm is being dragged up. Jason rips the bandage off his arm, and then digs his fingers into the wounds hard enough he gasps in pain and they start to bleed again. He struggles, trying to pull away, and Jason is pulling his arm across his chest, leaning up. He stills in something like horror when the merman licks a stripe up his arm, cleaning the blood that's started to trickle down towards his elbow. Then another, tongue swiping over one of the ragged lines clawed into his skin. He cringes.
Jason hums in a clearly satisfied tone, shoves his arm down and leans close enough that their faces are barely a fraction of an inch apart. "I know your taste, Damian. You're marked, and no matter where you go I can track you down. Across the seas and beyond."
He shivers, but forces his mouth to curl, baring his teeth and meeting Jason's gaze head on. "I will not be your prey."
Jason closes that last bit of distance. He's not naive enough to call it a kiss, not when it's clearly something far more animalistic and primal. If he was going to call it anything, it would be a claim. It's only once Jason's split his bottom lip with sharp teeth that it ends, and their mouths part again. He watches the merman's tongue slide out, swiping blood off those teeth.
"Too late," Jason whispers, and then shoves him down and smoothly gets to feet he shouldn't even have. "See you in the oceans, little human. Next time, we'll meet on my territory."
Jason vanishes into the darkness of the night with more ease than should be possible, and he pushes himself up and carefully takes a look at his arm. It's bleeding again, still not all that bad but it hurts, and he's going to have to rebind it and try to find somewhere to wash it clean.
How the hell is he going to explain any of these injuries to his captain?