A/N: Hey! *beam* This is the last one. There is approximately a 75% chance that you've seen this already, so I'll make it quick: I used to be super strict about keeping all my open stories here on a schedule, I changed my mind, further info's on my profile. Given the lifted restrictions, I'm cross-posting my stuff from AO3 onto here. Enjoy! *smile*
Title: Sunlit Scales
Author: liketolaugh
Rating: T
Pairings: Link/Allen
Genre: Romance/Drama
Warnings: None
Summary: Link didn't expect his net to catch a merman. He definitely didn't expect the merman to come back. And he never would have imagined that this would lead to an attack that threatened to put the merpeople under Leverrier's control for the rest of their lives.
Disclaimer: Like hell I own D. Gray-man.
The sunlight bent and shimmered in the water, sending Allen's silver scales into a strange, beautiful dance, only accentuated by the flex and ripple of his muscles as he cut through the water. His eyes, the same color as his scales, were narrowed against the brightness, and flickering around to search out a flash similar to his own.
This part of the bay was dangerous; while it held the most fish (hence why Allen was here) it also, as a natural extension, had the most fishermen. And fishermen were not known for being friendly to merpeople.
But there were no boats here at the moment, so Allen allowed himself to relax a little; the fishermen would not arrive for hours, most likely. He turned his gaze to look for fish instead.
As soon as he relaxed his attention, of course, he ran headfirst into a net.
Instantly, Allen started to struggle against it; the initial collision had twisted one of his arms into the mesh, but it wasn't freed so easily. Quite the contrary - each tug just drew it tighter, until he was wincing from the pressure on his skin.
The other arm, his left, which was blackened and dead-looking, had limited mobility - it certainly wasn't dextrous enough to free the other.
Allen panicked. He thrashed and pulled in the water, sending ripples carelessly through the bay, but he couldn't break the reinforced netting. All he managed to do was tangle himself further, twisting the netting around his tail. At one point, he ripped the delicate membrane of his tail fin and gasped in pain, but he didn't really stop squirming until the netting threatened to strangle him.
At that point, he fell limp, gills flapping as he gasped for breath. When he caught it, he deflated with a frustrated groan.
"Well done, Walker," he muttered to himself, letting his eyes fall closed. "Now you've really done it."
It looked like he'd have to wait for the fisherman to come back. Not all of them were awful - some of them were actually quite nice - but Allen didn't like to take chances unnecessarily.
One way or another, at least, the fisherman would have to untangle him. After that, he'd deal with whatever came his way.
Except the fisherman didn't come. Allen knew the net had to be fresh - he had passed through that exact route just the day before, and there had been no fish in it until after he was caught - but no one came to reel it in. Worse, with his good arm caught and the net wrapped around his throat, it was nigh impossible to eat, even with the caught fish wriggling right with him.
Allen… hadn't been in this much trouble in years.
It was three days later when Allen, half-conscious and dizzy, felt a jerk.
His first reaction was to flinch; the netting had dug into the deep cuts already made by the threads, and three days untended had done them no favors. His tail fin, already in rags, fluttered weakly with the motion.
His second reaction was to try and pry his eyes open. Tired and hungry, he only managed to get them halfway there, but it was enough to see by. The surface, he realized dimly, was getting closer.
A moment later, his head broke the surface, and he shut his eyes again with a wince.
The lack of sight did nothing to block the startled gasp from reaching his ears, and he was quickly pulled out of the water and dumped unceremoniously onto a hard wooden surface, which rocked wildly for a few moments before settling into a gentler motion.
"Merman!" a voice called sharply, sounding both alarmed and concerned. "Can you hear me?"
Allen winced and turned his head away. He knew this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up, but God, he hurt. His head hurt and his neck hurt and his arm and tail hurt.
He heard a quiet curse and then there was cold metal at his throat. A tightening, a soft snap, and breathing was suddenly much easier. He drew in a long, shuddering breath.
There was a sigh of relief in front of him, and then a mutter. "Well, at least I know you're alive. Merman, are you awake?" The cold metal object, which must have been a knife, reappeared at his arm and released that, too.
Allen forced his eyes to open again, peering at the man in front of him with half-lidded eyes. "Yes," he rasped hoarsely.
The man in front of him was blond, with brown eyes and a small frown. He was crouched down, and the rocking beneath them indicated that they were on a boat, corroborated by the rest of their surroundings. He held a knife in one hand, which he was already directing down to the netting around Allen's silver tail.
"Good," the man said without looking at him. A few more snaps freed Allen's tail, and Allen hissed at the sting. The man winced as well, though it was almost unnoticeable.
For a few seconds, both of them were silent. Allen closed his eyes again and focused on breathing, feeling not much better for having been freed.
"I… apologize," the man said at last, drawing Allen's attention back to him. He still wouldn't look at him, busying himself by piling up the remains of the net with the catch of flopping fish. "I meant you no harm."
Allen managed a weary smile. "It's okay," he said softly. "I should have been paying more attention; I know a lot of people fish around here."
The man nodded, but he still looked slightly ashamed.
"Thank you for cutting me free," Allen added, nodding to the ruined net. "I know you'll need to get a new one now."
The man just shrugged. "Will you be able to get yourself home?"
Allen pushed himself up and took a moment to survey himself. He felt a little better, he decided; enough that he at least was no longer about to pass out. But then he looked down at his tail and winced.
His tail fin was in tatters, which meant movement would be slow and turning difficult. Blood was welling up from where the net had been crushing his scales and cutting into the flesh beneath; an experimental flop made him shut his eyes and hiss in pain.
When he opened them again, the man was looking at him with visible concern. He forced a smile.
"I'll manage," he assured him, though he wasn't at all sure it was true. He'd swum in worse conditions before, but it had been a long time.
The fisherman frowned at him, apparently sensing that Allen was not being entirely honest. Allen smiled again and pushed himself up a little, flexing his tail to make it easier-
Except apparently he'd already forgotten what effect that had, because the exertion made him hiss again, and then he accidentally knocked one of the cuts against something rough. Pain shot up his tail and burned in his chest, his vision went dark, and he felt his arms give way under him, sending him collapsing against the side of the boat again.
"Merman!"
This time, the fisherman's panicked voice wasn't enough to rouse him, and silently, he apologized as his consciousness slipped away.
Link had been fishing since he was eight years old, eleven years now. In all that time, he'd never reeled in a merperson, and he'd been damn proud of that fact.
Apparently, his good track record had come to an end.
When he went to retrieve the net he'd left out, he'd been surprised at how heavy it was; it had taken a lot of his strength to pull it up. He'd been pleased, at first, since that would seem to indicate a hefty catch.
The injured merman thoroughly tangled up in it had been a very unpleasant surprise.
Now that the merman had fallen unconscious, Link studied him, frowning.
He had white hair and a scar down one side of his face, and his left arm looked unhealthy, almost rotten. Blood oozed from the cuts on his neck, arm, and tail, and even in his sleep, he winced with each rock of the boat.
Link sighed, turned around, and started to row back.
Leverrier's policy regarding the merpeople was… unclear, at best. He discouraged close interaction, but had also ordered that they weren't to be killed, which had upset many of the older fishermen.
Link himself had never had strong feelings about the merpeople, but he hadn't wanted to hurt them, either. Perhaps he would have to be more careful in the future.
He glanced back at his passenger, who lolled against the side of the boat, breathing shallowly, gills fluttering pathetically. The merman had been surprisingly understanding, considering that Link had caused him to be caught in a net for what had to have been a day or more.
He'd been very… polite.
Link didn't even know his name.
Link shook his head and returned his attention to steering. His house was right against the shore, and he had his own dock, which meant he wouldn't have to awkwardly carry the merman through public space. He didn't have much space, but he could set the merman on the bed and then fill the bathtub. It wouldn't be the most comfortable of accommodations, but it was the best he could provide on such short notice. The merman probably shouldn't be swimming much anyway.
Reaching the dock opened up the next set of tasks. He had to nudge the merman aside to reach his anchor and then tie the boat to the dock, and then lifted him up.
The shifting of balances set the boat rocking, but Link had spent almost more time on boats than on land, so it was easy enough to keep his footing, though he jostled the merman more than he'd perhaps intended to. Still, he managed to climb from the boat onto the dock without serious incident, and then headed to his house.
Inside, he set the merman on his bed - he'd have to wash the bedsheets, now stained with blood and saltwater, later - and went to fill the tub, making a mental catalog of what first aid supplies he had and what he needed.
Antibiotics, antiseptic, bandages, painkillers… Link winced slightly. For a start.
Still, he was certain that he had all that he needed, so he took a bucket of water and a washcloth and returned to his room, where the merman hadn't moved.
He sat on the edge of the bed and watched the merman breathe for a minute, frowning slightly.
"I should have been more careful," he berated himself under his breath.
Of course, 'should have's did not help anyone, so instead of continuing in that vein, he sighed, bent over, and started to clean the cuts in brisk, efficient motions.
It would only be for a few days, and then he could set the merman free again. Leverrier would never have to know.
Still, he should at least learn the boy's name.
There we are! *bounce and grin* This one's actually sort of old, but there's not much progress on it - I forgot about it for a long time. Still. I have plans. *grin* Anyway, thanks for reading, and please review!