Ellis had set out intending to do his duties – he really, really had. Leda had given him a simple patrol route, knowing very well his unfortunate tendency to get distracted. He'd been doing pretty well at first, occasionally darting after colorful fish that swam too close, but staying on track for the most part. Normally he might have shirked his patrol in favor of going to the surface or visiting the nearby village – patrol's were mostly a formality, as very few threats came as close to the coast as his pod did. Rochelle had given him another lecture last night, though, about responsibility and humans and keeping himself out of danger. The guilt at worrying her was enough to keep him focused – mostly.
Even so, he couldn't help but pause when he heard the tell-tale groan of a ship in the distance. He drifted slowly in the direction of the sound, torn. He wanted to go investigate; it had been storming all day, and if the ship sank he would probably be able to scavenge something interesting from it. Rochelle's speech echoed in his head, though, and guilt churned in his stomach.
The groan vibrated through the water again, and Ellis drifted further in its direction. It wouldn't hurt for him to check it out for a little while. Chances were none of the others would even notice if he came back from patrol a little late. They would probably just assume he'd gotten a bit distracted (which wouldn't necessarily be wrong).
Reassured in his decision, he set off in the direction of the sounds, moving quickly with excitement. There were a few shipwrecks in his pod's territory, but they had long been picked clean. Ellis still visited them occasionally, mostly out of boredom and curiosity. His pod only took things they deemed useful, and oftentimes left the more interesting items behind.
It didn't take long for him to find the ship, rocking dangerously in the choppy sea waves. Ellis stayed far beneath it, wary of the storm happening on the surface. If the ship did sink, he wanted ample time to get out of the way of it and anything that might fall off.
A wave smashed into its side and it swayed precariously. A few dark shapes came tumbling overboard, and Ellis darted back and forth excitedly, watching as some of them – barrels, by the looks of it – sank quickly to the ocean floor. He started swimming towards them, glancing up to check that nothing else was falling, and noticed something floating higher towards the surface.
He looked between the floating object and the barrels. The barrels probably weren't going to move; if they were heavy enough to sink, then they wouldn't be taken by the current. The floating thing, however, was bobbing with the waves, quickly moving further and further away.
Ellis swam up towards it, albeit rather slowly, still nervous about the storm and the ship (although the latter had moved a good distance away now). As he came closer he realized that the shape was a human. He swam faster, coming to a halt a short distance away. He circled the human warily, noting that his arms were tied behind his back. He wasn't moving, and Ellis swam closer to wrap his arms around the man's torso and pull him up to the surface.
He took a deep breath before breaching, struggling against the choppy waves and icy winds. He couldn't tell if the man was alive – didn't know how to tell. He only knew that humans needed air, and that they died if they were underwater too long. The man had only been under for a few moments...was that long enough? Ellis frowned and shifted the human in his arms. For as much time as he spent around them, he didn't know much about how they worked.
He ducked back underwater to breath, struggling to keep the man above at the same time. He wasn't sure what to do; if the man was alive, he would definitely die without Ellis' help. If he wasn't...well, Ellis would rather assume the best.
He breached again just in time for a wave to sweep over them. His stomach twisted nervously as he fought to keep them above water. The man was going to drown at this rate. If it hadn't been storming Ellis was sure he'd be able to keep him afloat – but it was, and he wracked his brain for any ideas.
It came to him suddenly, and he would have thrown his arms up in excitement if he hadn't been holding the man. There were caves along the coast, ones that weren't completely submerged even during high tide. He could put the man in one of them until...well, he wasn't sure what exactly he would do afterwards, but he was sure he'd figure it out.
Towing the man to the caves was a long and arduous task. By the time they had reached them Ellis' back and tail were burning with exertion. He was grateful, when he entered one, for the break from the pounding waves.
The cave was too dark for him to see properly, although the gentle blue glow of his skin and tail helped to light up the area. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to see a ledge rising out of the water against the back wall of the cave. He swam backwards slowly until his back hit the ledge and he turned, grunting as he struggled to lift the human onto it. It stretched back six or seven feet, and he didn't think the man was in any danger of falling off.
Ellis slipped beneath the water and took a moment to simply breath. His entire body ached, but the sense of relief he felt at managing to bring the man here made up for it.
He took a deep breach and emerged from the water, pulling himself up onto the platform with the man. He poked at him gently, frowning nervously when he didn't move. He pulled himself closer, pressing his ears to the man's chest.
Faintly, he heard a heartbeat. Unwittingly, he let out the breath he'd been holding. He quickly maneuvered himself back into the water, cursing his thoughtlessness. Although, he supposed he would have run out of air eventually anyway.
He swam slow circles around the cave, wondering what he should do next. The man would be safe here, for a while at least. He wouldn't have to worry about drowning, or predators, or any of the other seafolk bothering him. Not that Ellis' pod would bother him; they had strict rules against hurting humans. Interacting with them otherwise wasn't against the rules, but it was frowned upon. Very frowned upon, Ellis could say from experience (not that it ever stopped him).
It occurred to him that the man would need food. He paused his circling, a frown creasing his face. He knew humans ate fish – he saw the ones from the village catching them from their boats. He'd tried to tip one, once, so that he could take some of the little sharp shiny things and the bags with holes. It hadn't turned out well; the man had hit him with a stick and yelled until Ellis had swam away. It wasn't like he'd been trying to hurt the man or anything. He'd seen humans tip their boats before, and they'd always been able to swim. He had only wanted a couple of the shiny things to –
He was getting sidetracked. Ellis shook his head and resumed circling, trying to reorganize his thoughts. Food. The man was going to need food. It wouldn't be too hard to find him some. Ellis could catch some of the little silver fish easily. They didn't taste very good, but they were slow and stupid and humans caught them all the time.
He popped out of the water again and peeked over the ledge. The man was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling shallowly. Ellis watched him for a moment, entranced. He'd never been so close to a human before, never been able to touch one or simply watch them be.
He reached out slowly, fingers ghosting over the man's cheek. The skin was rough with stubble beneath the pads of his fingers, and he hummed thoughtfully. He'd always found it odd how humans grew hair on their faces and arms. He wondered if they grew it anywhere else?
He plucked at the man's shirt, wrinkling his nose at the rough blue material. He didn't understand how humans could cover themselves with such uncomfortable things. Sure, some of them were kind of pretty, but was it worth the awful sensations they probably caused? He didn't think so.
As he lifted the shirt, the man shifted and groaned. Ellis froze, looking up just in time to see the man blinking awake, dark eyes reflecting his own blue glow back at him.
Nick came to consciousness slowly, his head and arms throbbing. He didn't open his eyes right away, instead focusing on breathing and wondering just how the hell he'd managed to survive jumping from Freddie's ship.
When he'd thrown himself overboard he had fully accepted the fact that he was going to die. Even if it hadn't been storming, there was no way he would have been able to swim to safety with his arms bound behind his back. He simply preferred the idea of drowning over being keel-hauled.
That, and he really, really liked the idea of robbing Freddie of the satisfaction of killing him.
So, then, how was he alive?
He didn't have much time to ponder his situation as he felt something pulling at his shirt. He tried to roll away, groaning at the pain that lanced up his arms. He gave up on trying to move, instead opening his eyes to confront whatever (or whoever) was touching him.
It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light, an odd blue hue that made him wonder if it was nighttime. It didn't take long for him to home in on the source of the light – which also happened to be the source of the tugging on his shirt.
He swore loudly when he saw the thing staring at him, scrabbling back away from it, ignoring the screeching pain in his arms. The creature flinched back, fins along its arms flaring wide, and the blue markings on its skin glowed brighter as it ducked beneath the water.
It circled beneath the surface, glowing intensely, and he moved back further until his back hit a wall. His chest was heaving with barely contained panic. He yanked at the ropes holding his wrists together, to no avail.
Of course it had to be a fucking siren. He'd somehow managed to survive going overboard in a storm, and now that thing was going to drown him. Or maul him, based on the claws he'd gotten a glimpse of.
He looked around, hoping to find something to free himself with, and scowled when he realized that the cave was almost pitch black with the fish underwater. He resumed pulling at the ropes, hoping that they would somehow break.
The cave brightened again and Nick froze, looking up at the creature. It was staring at him, hovering at the lip of the platform, looking almost...hurt? Or maybe like it wanted to drag him underwater and eat him; Nick wasn't entirely sure.
For a few moments they simply stared at one another, the only sounds in the cave being his own breathing and the gentle rush of waves against the walls.
The thing in front of him opened its mouth, and Nick blanched at the sharp teeth inside.
"Hhh...help, you." It said. Its voice rose and fell in odd, almost musical tones.
It tapped its own chest before pointing towards Nick's. He continued to stare at it, mouth hanging open. He'd heard countless stories of sirens, and none of them had involved the things talking. Singing, sure, but having a casual conversation? Offering to help someone? No. The only thing they were known to help with was taking someone to an early, watery grave.
When it reached for his foot he kicked at it. It pulled back quickly, but didn't sink beneath the water as it had before. Instead it let out a string of whistles and clicks, insistently gesturing towards Nick once again.
"Help..." It repeated, this time seeming slightly unsure.
Nick scoffed and rolled his eyes, though he wasn't sure if the thing would be able to see. He leaned forward, only wincing slightly at the ache in his shoulders.
"If you think you're gonna get me over there with that shit, you've got another thing coming. I'm not stupid." He hissed.
Or maybe he was. He was talking to it, after all. Granted, it had talked to him first, but just because it knew how to say a couple of words didn't mean it actually understood them. It was probably all just a ploy to get him to let his guard down so it could kill him.
Well, he wasn't falling for it. The thing could float over there and make sad faces and say "help" all it wanted. He hadn't made it this far to die to a siren. It would get tired of messing with him and give up eventually, he was sure. And then he could figure out a way to get his hands free and swim to land. Or something...he would figure it out. He'd survived worse.
The thing finally seemed to understand that he wanted nothing to do with it as it backed away from the ledge and swam to the entrance of the cave. It paused for a moment and looked back at him before leaving, taking its odd light with it and leaving Nick in total darkness.
Ellis paced outside the cave for a while. The storm had passed over, and the surface water was back to easily navigable waves. He was surprised to see that the sun had almost set over the horizon; he'd been gone much longer than he thought.
He was perplexed by the human's reaction. He tried to help, and what did he get? Kicked – almost. He couldn't really blame the man, though. If he had woken up in a strange place with someone hovering over him, he probably wouldn't react well either.
He needed to win the man's trust, somehow. He'd already been planning on bringing him food, but judging by the way he'd reacted earlier, it would take more than that. Perhaps freeing his hands? Ellis had seen him trying (unsuccessfully) to pull the ropes apart. One of the knives he had at the trench would probably work. He could hunt down a few fish on his way back, too. He grinned and sped off in the direction of the trench, ignoring the way his muscles protested, his former optimism renewed.
The trench had just come into view when something slammed into Ellis' side. He yelped, startled, and was just turning to fend off whatever was attacking him when he caught a familiar flash of red.
Rochelle floated next to him, looking both relieved and angry. She punched him in the arm lightly before slamming into him again for a hug. He returned the embrace tentatively, guilt coursing through him.
"Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be back hours ago! I thought – with the – with the storm, and then one of the human's ships came through...I thought that something happened." She said.
Ellis hugged her tighter, hating the way her voice faltered.
"'M alright, Ro. Sorry I worried ya, I just got...caught up with somethin'."
He wasn't sure whether he should tell her about the man or not. She would probably be angry about it...but then, she would probably be angry if he hid it too. His tail twitched anxiously, and she seemed to pick up on the movement as she leaned back. She nuzzled her face against his and he pressed back, somewhat calmed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I just worry when you disappear like that." She said, backing away and heading down towards the trench. Ellis followed after her slowly.
"I know...I'm sorry too. I shouldn't'a been gone all day. I heard a ship and I got caught up followin' it and..." he paused, torn between telling her the truth or lying. "I followed it too far and spent the whole rest of the day back trackin'." He finished guiltily.
Rochelle didn't seem to notice – or, if she did, she simply chalked it up to him feeling bad about worrying her. She just nodded and hummed, slowing briefly so that she could reach out and touch a hand to his face.
Others in the pod found Rochelle's protectiveness to be overbearing (and didn't hesitate in making it known). Ellis couldn't say he really minded; they'd grown up together, and when he was young and surrounded by strangers he'd been grateful for it. He knew he was the closest thing Rochelle would ever have to a sibling, as she was for him, and he knew the behavior came from a place of caring.
Plus, it wasn't like she ever stopped him from doing the things he liked to do. She'd given that up long ago, and now her nagging seemed more out of habit than anything else.
She chatted quietly as they swam into the trench, telling him about how her day had gone. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just hunting as usual, but Ellis was happy to listen. He did find his thoughts occasionally drifting to the man in the cave, but tried to ignore them. He would have to wait until later, when Ellis could sneak out of the trench.
Rochelle left Ellis at the entrance to his cave, once again pressing her cheek to his before she left for her own. He watched her until she was out of sight, then darted inside, heading immediately for the back.
He shifted quickly through the pile of things he'd scavenged from shipwrecks and "borrowed" from the humans. He was more gentle with some things than others, having learned from past experience that a lot of human things were very fragile – anything clear especially so.
He finally found what he was looking for, buried beneath a pile of golden circles. He took a moment to roll one between his fingers, enjoying the way the pattern imprinted on it felt against his fingers. It made a quiet "clink" when he dropped it, and he smiled.
The knife he'd uncovered glinted faintly, reflecting the blue light of his skin. He picked it up carefully, not wishing to cut himself, and turned it over a few times in his palm. The seafolk – when they could get their hands on them – used them for hunting, and occasionally for defending themselves. Ellis rarely did either and as such had very little practice with them.
Truthfully, he would like to learn how to use one properly; he'd always found them to be cool. The pod didn't really trust him with things like hunting, though. It was partly because of his short attention span and penchant for talking, and partly because the glow of his skin oftentimes gave him away.
He resumed searching through the pile, now seeking out something to hide the knife in. He wasn't technically supposed to have it, considering he wasn't a hunter, and being caught with it would probably get him into quite a bit of trouble. He found a small pouch (yet another borrowed item) and tucked the knife into it. He slid it over his shoulder and swam to the entrance of the cave.
There were a few others swimming around outside, although the majority were either asleep or about to be. He swam out slowly, angling up and out of the trench.
He paused when he heard someone call his name and turned around sheepishly. His hands tightened on the strap of the pouch when he saw Leda swimming towards him. Her expression was less than cheerful.
"Where exactly are you going? You were already out for patrol once today – and you were gone much longer than necessary, from what I hear." She said, giving him a cold once-over.
Ellis averted his gaze, twisting his hands on the strap of the pouch.
"I was headin' to the, uh, docks. Was gonna see if there's anything worthwhile." The lie came out surprisingly easily, which pleased and troubled him in equal turns.
"I think it's better if you stay in the trench for tonight. You'll need the rest; you're on patrol again tomorrow. And I expect you to stay on track and be back on time."
She left before he could get a word in edgewise. His shoulders slumped and he headed back for his cave. He wasn't going to disobey or argue; Leda was the pod's matriarch, and going against her would only get him into trouble.
Hopefully the man would be all right until tomorrow. Ellis didn't think humans could starve in a day; seafolk couldn't, and they weren't that different. He didn't think so, at least.
Nick was starving. He was starving, and his mouth felt like a desert, and his head and arms hurt even worse than they had yesterday.
He'd somehow managed to fall asleep last night – or maybe "passed out" was a better way to put it. He hadn't intended to sleep; he'd been so paranoid about the siren showing up again he'd fought to stay awake as long as possible. The almost drowning had caught up with him though, apparently.
He groaned as he sat up, noting that the cave was, at least, not pitch black. The sun was filtering in, and although it was dim, he could at least make out his surroundings. There was, unfortunately, no way out. Not unless he swam, anyway, and that would be more than a bit difficult with his hands tied behind his back.
Tugging at the ropes (for what must have been the hundredth time) proved useless. It only served to put him in more pain, and he quickly gave up. Instead, he looked at the ground around him, searching for something to cut himself free. There was nothing, and he knocked his head against the stone behind him, regretting it immediately when the throbbing doubled.
He consoled himself with the fact that his clothes were, at the very least, dry, if not a bit stiff. If – when – he got out of here, he would have to buy new ones. Then he'd have to hire someone to pay Freddie a visit.
He smiled at the thought. It would be expensive, but definitely worth it. Make Freddie watch while he burned the ship to ashes, and then –
A splash interrupted his train of thought, and he jumped. His stomach dropped when he saw a shape swimming just beneath the surface of the water. It looked suspiciously like the siren from yesterday, if the faint glowing was anything to go by.
Sure enough, the thing poked its head out of the water and confirmed that yes, it was the same one from yesterday. Back to torture him with its presence and try to trick him into the water again.
He pressed back against the wall, wishing that it had been a shark instead. At least a shark couldn't drag itself out of the water to attack him. Maybe the thing was too stupid to try it. It had been stupid enough to think it could get him in the water by offering help.
It was at the edge of the platform now, slapping its weird, webbed hand against the stone. Nick glared at it, not moving. That didn't seem to deter it as it reached down beneath the water and grabbed –
A knife. The thing had a fucking knife, and was waving it at him. And smiling.
Since when did sirens use knives? Everything he'd heard involved them singing, or sitting around looking pretty, or sneaking up behind you and grabbing your ankles. Not stabbing or whatever it planned to do with that thing.
It leaned over the edge, pointing the knife at him, and he pressed himself harder into the rock wall behind him. His mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to get out of the situation and coming up blank.
The siren lowered the knife and frowned, backing away from the ledge. It raised the knife again, this time pointing the hilt at Nick.
"Help. Re...lease." It rasped.
It tossed the knife. Nick watched it skitter across the stone and come to a stop near his feet. He eyed it suspiciously, wondering what exactly the siren was trying to pull. It only stared at him, though, and he cautiously shuffled towards it.
When the knife was within reach he pulled it towards himself with his foot, turning slightly – though not enough to let the siren out of his sight – to pick it up. It only took him a few moments to cut through the ropes and free his hands.
He couldn't help but groan at the relief, rotating each of his shoulders a few times to work out the worst of the pain.
The siren was still staring at him, smiling brightly now, and he wrinkled his nose at it. He held the knife up and wiggled it a bit.
"You're not gettin' this back, if that's what you're thinking." He sneered.
The thing only tilted its head at him, still smiling, seemingly unbothered by his words. It probably had no idea what he'd said, he realized. He huffed and rolled his eyes, settling back into the wall behind him and massaging one of his shoulders.
The siren leaned forward, resting its arms against the lip of the platform. Nick tensed, but it made no other movements. He relaxed, though only slightly, and tried to pretend it wasn't there.
Ignoring it proved to be easier said than done. Despite having his arms free, there was nothing to do in the cave. He spent some time trying to work the soreness out of his arms and back, but eventually he had to accept that only time would completely rid him of the pain.
He glanced at the siren, trying to be discreet, and saw that he – it – was still staring at him. It didn't move beyond occasionally dipping beneath the water. Its smile had faded, and now it looked...contemplative?
A shiver worked its way up his spine; what did it want? He didn't think it was going to try to kill him. It wouldn't have given him the knife if it did. It hadn't bothered to speak again, though, and the staring was starting to creep him out.
He opened his mouth to tell it to knock it off and was interrupted by the growling of his stomach. He grimaced; the siren's arrival had distracted him from his hunger, but it seemed like it was back in full force now.
There was a splash, and Nick looked up to see the siren pulling what looked to be a soaking wet bag out of the water. It turned it over onto the rock. Several dead fish came spilling out, landing wetly against the stone.
The siren pushed them closer to him, smiling eagerly. It pointed to them, then tapped its fingertips against its mouth. As if he didn't know how to eat. He pulled one of the fish towards himself, wincing at the thin film of slime that clung to its scales. He held it up by the tail, examining it in the scant light coming from the cave's entrance.
It was safe to eat, that much he knew. He couldn't remember the name, but he'd seen them before at market stalls. They were one of the cheaper kinds, so he'd never paid too much attention to them.
He turned the fish over in his hands, its dead eyes staring up at him flatly. The siren was watching him expectantly. He set the fish back down and wiped his hands off on his pants.
"I can't eat that."
A series of clicks came from the siren's mouth and it pushed the other fish closer to Nick. He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose. This whole language barrier thing was getting old fast.
He repeated his earlier statement, slower this time, gesturing between himself and the fish and shaking his head. The siren at least seemed to get it this time, and looked rather crestfallen. Nick felt more than a little disappointed as well. His stomach was aching and he struggled to remember when the last time he'd eaten had been.
Even before he had almost drowned, he'd spent who knew how long in the brig of Freddie's ship. He vaguely remembered someone throwing him moldy bread at some point, but he hadn't been nearly desperate enough to eat it. He was beginning to regret the decision – although, in his defense, he had thought he was going to die, and hadn't wanted his last meal to be a moldy, soggy chunk of bread.
The fish continued to watch him from their pile. The siren was poking and pulling at them, idly arranging them in order of size. Nick's stomach rumbled again and he gritted his teeth. If it weren't for the fact that they were raw and there was no way to cook them, he'd probably have eaten all of them by now.
As it was, the only thing he could do with them was stare. The very thought of trying to explain fire to the siren gave him a headache. An extremely small part of him wished he would have just drowned in the storm; it sounded infinitely preferable to starvation.
His eyes wandered back to the siren, who had backed away from the edge of the platform and was making its way out to the mouth of the cave. Nick threw his hands up, laughing incredulously. If even that thing had given up, he really was going to starve.
It disappeared out the mouth of the cave, its tail breaking the surface briefly to smack hard against the water. Nick grimaced as freezing droplets of water rained down on him. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, just barely resisting the almost-overwhelming urge to punch something.
He was freezing, starving, aching, and trapped in a cave off the coast of God knew where. The only thing he'd had going for him was that the stupid siren had refused to leave him alone, and now even that was gone. He slumped back against the wall, exhausted. He really, truly was going to die in here.