Words that inspired this: sea, mist, love

This is a translation of my own fic. If you understand Swedish, please consider reading the original. It's called Spökskeppet and you can find it on my profile.

Once again the clock strikes twelve and it's the thirtieth of March. The light of the crescent moon and the stars waltz across the smooth surface of the sea and the heavy air rests. A thick mist from the north glides over the calm waters. Above it rolls the clouds. And the world slumbers.

Standing on his islet, Eren looks over the sea. When he catches sight of the gray mist wall in the horizon, he hops down the cliff and slides down to the water's edge with wildly flailing arms. There he sinks to his knees on the small, charcoal stones covering the beach and stretches his hand over the water. It's hardly comfortable despite that the stones have been polished smooth by the waves, but he doesn't register the pain. He's only interested in the rippling surface and how the tips of the tiny waves lick his palm.

These waves aren't common. The sea outside of Shiganshina bay behave like this only once a year, on the thirtieth of March. A hundred years ago or so it might have done so more often, but it's been long since then and the circumstances have changed over time. Eren doesn't remember the details of his past very well either, so maybe he's mistaken. It doesn't matter.

He wipes his hands on his pants. Visitors are on the way, they must be. The ship has never missed his birthday, but that's not enough to put him at ease. "The sea has its own mind. You can't control the damned thing," Levi used to say. And when Eren's temperament exploded, he'd say "you're just like the fucking sea" in that special tone of voice with a tenderness only Eren could hear.

He runs despite the lighthouse door being thirty scarce steps from the beach and he could make it walking as well. Leaving the door open behind him, he rushes through the lighthouse keeper's apartment and to the stone stairs. So often have they been plodded up and down that the edges have become slanted and the surface worn into slipperiness. Hence why he kicks his shoes off before climbing two steps at a time all the way up.

Lighting the lamp in the lighthouse is like second nature to Eren. Once the light is on, he pushes the balcony door open and gazes northward.

The enormous waves heave greedily. Some break against the cliffs, while others throw themselves over the stone beach to leave thick stripes of sea foam behind, over and over again. It's a game for them. Sometimes their tips glimmer when the crescent peeks out from between the clouds. The wind that had been mild all afternoon pulls now at Eren's clothes. It blows through him and nips at his soul as it passes.

The mist is thick and the clouds dark. Eren shields his eyes from the wind and his own hair that whips him in the face. He has to confirm that the travelers are going to pay him the visit he's been longing for every day, every minute, all year long.

But there in the distance flutters a flag. Not wildly like Eren's hair, but proudly. It's green, with a pair of white and blue swords painted across it. Or maybe they're wings? Hard to tell, because the picture is as worn as the lighthouse's stairs. Worn and familiar.

He leans over the balcony railing and peers in the mist. Its damp, silky lips have reached the lighthouse and are prepared to swallow him. And all he wishes is to make sure his visitor has arrived.

Surrounded by a bubble of stillness, despite being the eye of the storm, glides the ship across the sea. The mist hangs over her like a bridal veil, but the wind is mild and the air is lukewarm. The floorboards and masts creak, and on the starboard side gapes a hole so big you'd think the ship should've sunk a long time ago.

But she has not.

The wind blows away but Eren and the lighthouse remain. They've been swallowed by the ship's private bubble.

"There she comes," he whispers to himself. "There comes Kuchel and her crew." And her captain. Kuchel's son, who has named his most important belonging after her. If only she knew how far away he's sailed and how much he's seen and done. The world's strongest captain, they call him. She'd be as proud as Eren is.

The mist following the ship lies heavy as a curtain and the sight is poor, but there's nothing wrong with the sound. If you get close enough, you'll hear the ship creak and the ropes beat the masts, and if you get even closer, you'll hear the men sing and laugh. In the commotion a command may ring. "Order aboard" or "scrub the decks" will a low but silky voice yell then. And always will it be answered by a "yes, Captain!"

Shanties echo over the calm water. Eren's heart pounds. Fluttering wild against his ribs, like a flag in the September storm.

Vaguely sung words about storms and sea monsters are carried to him on the wind. The crew has changed course since they've caught sight of the lighthouse light. They've avoided grounding and are on their way past the islet. The shanty fades away and the low but silky voice shouts "do you call this clean? Deck's covered in shit, redo it!"

Afterwards it's silent. Not even a small "yes, Captain!" rings through the night.

The ship has passed Eren without anchoring. He squeezes the balcony railing so hard his knuckles shine white.

"Wait," he yells. "Wait!"

Now he's running again. Down the lighthouse stairs, two steps at a time. He trips, but gets a hold of a window aperture and continues without missing a beat.

This can't happen, it can't be true. For the first time ever the ship passes the lighthouse on the thirtieth of March without stopping. Has the old Captain gotten senile? Has he forgot what he came here for? Or does he not have the time to take a break? But Eren's waited for this night! He's waited for it for a whole year, every day and every minute, he cannot wait another year. He just can't.

The lighthouse door has locked itself. Without yanking on his shoes, Eren twists and pulls the lock. He kicks the door.

"Open up, you old bastard," he says and jerks the handle. The door groans but obeys and Eren falls out onto the cliff.

The pier lies in the southeast. If he waves and shouts from there perhaps the ship's crew would hear him. And if not, at least he can threaten their captain with what'll happen the next time his collar is within reach of Eren's fist.

"We'll see how much you love the uncontrollable sea then, all right," he hisses from between his teeth.

The islet is slippery after the mist and the great waves washing the cliffs. The chance of falling into the sea is high, especially if Kuchel continues onward and the storm following her gets a hold of Eren before he gets inside. But he's not afraid of drowning for he's been the lighthouse's keeper for decades already and he can take care of himself. Besides, the legend says that if you drown, you'll grow a tail over your legs. Though that sounds more like a beautiful tale told to comfort the parents of the hopeless girls who've drowned themselves.

When Eren reaches the pier, something splashes at its end and he halts abruptly. An oar pokes out from behind it. In the background sits Kuchel surrounded by her heavy veil.

A man disembarks on the pier. Kicking the rope that keeps his rowing boat in place with the tip of one boot. He raises his gaze and meets Eren's with an emotionless expression.

Short and pale as a ghost, he is. The hair's inky black and his eyes light. A few wrinkles sit in the corners of his eyes with black bags underneath. He's dressed in shiny, knee-high boots and around his neck hangs a white cravat.

The awaited visitor has arrived.

"Levi," Eren shouts. His legs are numb and yet he runs. On the last step he jumps despite being at least half a head taller than his guest.

They stagger but Levi gets a grip of Eren's waist and holds him up, unaffected. He tilts his head back to study Eren's grin.

Eren squeezes the cravat in his fist. "You little bastard, I thought you'd leave without seeing me."

A small smile pulls at Levi's lips. "Never. Congratulations on your birthday, love."

~wWw~

Jean and Marco sit wrapped in a blanket on a fallen pine trunk. The weather had been calm all evening, but around midnight a storm blew in and Marco confessed that he was too nervous to sleep. Together they left the tent to watch over the sea, sheltered by the forest. The shared blanket was Jean's idea.

"I wonder where this wind came from," Marco says. Only his eyes peek out from behind the blanket.

"Who knows," Jean mumbles. Gravity pulls at his eyelids, even though his company has an uplifting effect. It wouldn't be all that knightly of him to fall asleep in the middle of the storm that worries Marco, so he fights bravely against the Sandman's temptations.

"It shouldn't be this windy by the end of March."

"The end of March. . ." Jean blinks. The sea raging outside of Shiganshina. . . by the end of March. . . A vague bell rings somewhere at a distance, but his brain is too tired to remember what it wants to remind him of.

"Oh but look, someone turned on the lamp in the old lighthouse. I didn't know it was back in use. Who's the keeper?"

"Huh? Where? The old lighthouse has been empty for at least a hundred years, why would anyone turn on the lights there?"

"I wonder as well. But since the light's on someone has to have done it. Look." Marco shoves his hand out from the blanket fort and points before he quickly tugs it back into the warmth. How cute he is. Jean can't help his feelings. He wants to say something, but peers northward instead. And as it is, the light from the lighthouse shines through the thick mist.

And then it hits him.

"Oh shit." Gravity gives up on Jean's eyelids, because now he's wide-eyed. Goodbye, Mr. Sandman. "Someone's playing us."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard the ghost story?"

Marco pales. "No, which one?"

"The one about the captain and the lighthouse keeper?"

"Sounds scary."

A wide grin spreads across Jean's face. "Not really. Come closer and I'll tell you."

Marco squirms until he sits pressed against Jean's side. Hip to hip, arm to arm. He pulls the blanket closer around them.

"It's said that the old lighthouse is haunted. It's the crazy son of a doctor, Eren Yeager, who lives there. He's the last one to live in the lighthouse before it was shut down. Eren died on that islet on the thirtieth of March, on his twenty-eighth birthday. He turns on the light in the old lighthouse every year, on the night before the thirtieth."

Sorrow weighs Marco's voice. "In his own memory?"

"Nope. He's showing the way to passing ships."

"Only once a year? The lighthouse isn't used anymore, it's not needed."

"No, but it's more of a signal to one ship alone. Or to its captain. When Eren turns on the lamp, it's to say 'here I am'. He's hoping for visitors, you see."

Marco gasps. "The Captain."

Jean nods with a serious countenance. "Yeah, that's his lover. Eren was barely twelve years old when he met the Captain for the first time here in Shiganshina. He was known as a merciless pirate before he was employed by the state. They said that he was the strongest man in the world, that he was invincible. When his ship Kuchel arrived to the battle, it was already won, because she was the quietest ship in the world, and her crew the most skilled. The Captain always led his men himself."

"What was his name?"

"No one knows. Eren probably was the only one who was allowed to call him anything else than Captain. He was known to be very strict and tidy. And short. It made him scarier, you couldn't get a good grip of him."

"Did Eren become a sailor as well?"

"No. His father made him a doctor. And Eren was young, the Captain didn't want him coming along either. It wasn't until he turned fifteen that they started to seriously socialize. It's a bit unclear with all of that. Some pages have been ripped from Armin's book."

"Armin's book?" Marco frowns. "Is this a fairytale?"

"No-no. It's Eren's childhood friend's diary. That's where everything's written. People were worried when weird things happened on the sea and wanted answers, so they dug up some old books. But I personally think it's only little boys who're playing around. They probably row out to the lighthouse once a year to turn on the lamp and then they come back again. It's all in good fun, I know it."

"Yeah. . ."

"Anyway. The Captain and Eren were in love and Eren goes with Kuchel as the ship's doctor. One time, when they return home, they're told that there are many sick in Shiganshina and that Eren was more needed here than on the ship, so he stayed. Kuchel and the Captain sailed away. But they were supposed to return on the thirtieth of March because the Captain insisted on being here on his lover's birthday."

"How romantic."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe." Jean rubs the back of his neck and looks over the sea. The mist is thicker and heavier than before, but the lighthouse lamp shines bright. "Problem is, they never came back. People said they must've lost their way. Or that maybe the Captain had grown tired of Eren and left him for good. That maybe he had found some nicer and more handsome ship's doctor. You see, Eren was known for his temper and stubbornness and the Captain was invincible, so it was unlikely that he would've died. We still don't know where Kuchel is, but it's known that she and her Captain visited the city she was supposed to. She disappeared after that with all of her crew aboard."

"Do we really not know their fate?"

Jean shakes his head with pursed lips.

Marco shivers. "What do you think happened?"

"Some people blamed sea monsters. It was the only thing people thought could've overpowered the Captain. But it's more likely that he upped and left to a faraway country, painted his ship and lived there for the rest of his life. Eren didn't want to believe that of course. He insisted that the Captain would keep his promise and sat down to wait. 'Crazy, he's completely lost it,' people said about him. So Eren decided to become a lighthouse keeper instead, since no one trusted him to be their doctor anymore."

"People are terrible. He was just mourning, poor thing."

"Yeah, maybe. He was a lighthouse keeper for four years, but then he drowned. No one knows how, but it was on this night, between the twenty-ninth and thirtieth, after he had turned on the lighthouse lamp. It's said that it was terribly misty back then. The next day Armin and Eren's sister went to the lighthouse to celebrate Eren's birthday. They found him dead on the beach by the pier."

"No, that's too horrible. I don't like this at all." Large, brown eyes stare out at the sea, pause at the lighthouse and turn then pleadingly toward Jean. "It was his birthday. How can something like this happen?"

"Take it easy, it's just a story."

"But you said it was written in Armin's book."

"I'm sure he's exaggerated for the sake of drama, it's okay. So, once Eren had died, everyone thought that was the end of the Captain and the doctor's son's romance. No one wanted to move into the lighthouse so it was abandoned. Besides, it wasn't needed anymore. Everything was forgotten. But then, exactly a year later-"

"The light in the lighthouse was turned on." Marco swallows. He searches for Jean's hand beneath the blanket and holds it tight.

"Yeah. Armin and Eren's sister rowed out on the thirtieth. They'd been warned for the confusing mist that seemed to roll in by the end of March. They were the only friends Eren had and wanted to leave flowers in his memory. But guess what they saw on their way there?"

Marco holds his breath and Jean raises an eyebrow before continuing.

"Kuchel."

"No, that can't be true."

"But it is, according to Armin. Kuchel had been anchored outside of the lighthouse and someone had tied their rowboat to the pier, so Armin and Eren's sister didn't have room for theirs. They left their flowers there and rowed away. When they passed the Captain's ship, they saw an enormous hole in its side and heard shanties sound in the mist. And on the pier stood Eren and the Captain waving at them, side by side. They realized that they'd seen a ghost ship and that Eren had reunited with his lover."

"But why would Eren still light in the lighthouse if he's found his Captain?"

"I already told you, it's not him who turns on the light, it's just someone playing around. But . . ." Jean bites his lip. " Armin thought that the Captain's not done sailing yet. He's no landlubber you see, he loves the sea. Besides, Kuchel's disappearance was never explained, so maybe she was cursed."

"Eren could've become the ship's doctor again," Marco says.

"But he died as a lighthouse keeper. Armin suspected that he can't leave the lighthouse and that the Captain can't abandon his ship either. It's their destiny to be forever separated and only meet once a year."

Marco buries himself deeper into the blanket. His eyes glimmer in the light from the lighthouse. "Such a sad ghost story."

"It's a myth, don't be sad because of it," Jean says. "It's just some brats who are trying to trick us with the lighthouse lamp." And yet he had goosebumps.

Marco sits in silence. "But it's misty out here. It's always misty by the end of March. And the storm began so suddenly too. . . that's weird, isn't it?"

Jean rubs his knuckles. "Ha, no, that happens all the time, every now and then. It's not weird at all."

"But a little bit."

"A little bit, maybe." And he straightens his back. "But don't worry about it. You didn't get scared, did you?"

"No, just sad."

Jean grins, but shivers run down his spine again. "That's so like you. But Marco, shouldn't we maybe go back to the tent now? Not because I'm scared or anything like that, I just don't want you to catch a cold."

"How nice of you," Marco says and smiles.

"Yeah, haha." Jean jumps up. "Let's go."

"Okay, I'm coming- oh, but look!"

"What? Where?"

"The ghost ship. It's there. I swear I can see it."

Jean laughs, but it sounds more like a cough. He stares wildly over the sea. "No-o, you're just making things up. It's so misty, sometimes you imagine seeing things in the mist."

"No, look past the lighthouse. If you look carefully, you'll see it."

He follows Marco's pointing finger in the thick mist around the lighthouse and its bright light. And he distinguishes a proudly fluttering flag on the top of a mast, and under it the contours of a ship.

"The Captain's ghost ship," Jean whispers. His voice is hoarse and so low he barely hears it himself.

"The Captain's come to meet his lover on his birthday. How nice."

"You're the one being nice." Jean grabs Marco's arm. "I think it's for the best if we leave now."

Into the forest they disappear, Jean and Marco, hand in hand. And out on the open sea rocks the ghost ship, while her captain disembarks on the little islet where his lover has waited and longed for a visit, every day, every minute, for a whole year. As he's done for many years and will do for many, many more.

I'm grateful to Nevermorexxx for beta-reading and alphaofallcats for helping me rewrite some... unique... phrases I had invented while translating

Thank you for reading, please review and add to your favorites if you enjoyed :)

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