Welcome! Actual interaction abounds in this chapter; I quite enjoyed writing it. XD (By the way, Camp NaNoWriMo starts today, so I will likely be a writing fiend. Should be fun. XD) Enjoy!

Warnings for: Mentions of torture/murder.


There's a feeling in his chest that brims like excitement. Or, something more wild, more dangerous. Some combination of satisfaction, anticipation, and awe that he can't put an accurate word to.

It started when he was on the navy's ship, killing one soldier after another before they realized he was there, all too focused on the threat in front of them to see the one in back. When they began to backtrack, when it became clear they were afraid of something, he knew it had to be Jason. What else could scare a ship full of hardened military men except something truly terrifying?

When they took the ship, the way his crewmates looked at his collection of victims, and then to him, left him smirking. At the absence of anyone else's command he took it, ordering the surviving soldiers restrained and the ship stripped of everything useful except the supplies the remaining crew members would need to survive a run to the nearest friendly port. Ordered guards to watch the prisoners as he supervised everything else that needed to be done before they could sail away. Patching any damage to their ship that couldn't wait, storing those supplies, and retrieving the bodies of their crew from the water between their ships.

A glance told him that the water really was more red than blue, and the collection of bodies down there… Well, nearly all are wearing uniforms that once upon a time, were white.

And now, looking down at the retrieved body of his captain — no one had wanted to go down into that grisly sea to retrieve their bodies, but he'd insisted — he knows that Jason delivered on everything he asked for. Just like that.

The crew is shaken enough, both by the ambush and the talk of some thing in the water, that seizing control is easy. He announces his real name, claims the ship as his own, and no one, not even the first mate, fights him on it. He's not naive enough to think it will be that easy in the long run, he expects to have to prove that he knows what he's doing and that he has the stomach to enforce his orders, but this will do for now. He's sure that he can survive whatever the less pleased crew members try and throw at him.

He claims the captain's quarters for his own, moves his single chest of belongings in and then sets to work beside his new subordinates. He helps, and makes sure everything is set away and ready, until they separate from the other ship and leave them behind, making sure to cover enough distance to not be easily tracked down again before the night is over.

After that is where the challenges set in, and he takes steps to prove his competency right off the bat. He takes the next shift for himself, lets the crew whose sleep was interrupted sleep for a couple hours before normal shifts resume. The next one would have been his anyway, he just fulfills it from a different position.

It isn't until night falls again, and the first mate takes over without a word against him, that he can retire.

The captain's quarters are lower in this ship, not quite as much the obvious target as usual, and he appreciates it this time as he enters, locks the door, and immediately crosses over to the circular window. He pushes the glass open so he can look outside, not entirely surprised when he doesn't see anything. He's only about a half dozen feet above the water, so it's simple work to grab two of the captains sashes — garish colors; he never liked them — tie them together, and drop one end down to trail in the water.

He thought it would work, but he's a little surprised by how quickly there's suddenly tension on the other end of the sashes. Jason appears a moment later, letting go of the fabric to climb the side of the ship instead, right up until he has his arms crossed over the window's ledge, muscle holding him there. There's a grin on his hunter's lips, but something dark and deadly in his eyes. It doesn't feel like a threat though, more like something carefully controlled, leashed, and entirely at his command. It's thrilling.

"Captain," Jason says quietly, almost mocking.

"Suitor," he answers, and Jason's eyes darken a little more. "You gave me what I wanted."

Jason's head dips down, teeth grazing over the back of his hand where it's braced on the window, lingering until he speaks. "I told you that I would."

He finds himself swallowing, finds his fingers tangling in Jason's wet hair and pulling the merman into a kiss he barely resists starting off with a bite. Jason tastes like blood and salt, and the low growl that rumbles from the merman, the sound of nails digging into the wood beneath him and the crack as it splinters, makes him gasp in a small breath. He's almost expecting to be bitten, like that first time, but it doesn't happen.

When he pulls back Jason's eyes are closed, teeth showing but not bared, and a glance down proves that there are now ragged claw marks marking the sill of his new window. The thought of the damage those claws can do, what he's seen the proof of, probably shouldn't light the hunger in his gut that it does.

"Come in," he demands, tugging at Jason's hair once before he steps back and makes room.

Jason pushes up, and he stares and marvels at the strength in those corded arms as Jason climbs through the window and pulls in that long, deadly tail behind him. He remembers how heavy that tail is, and the strength to be able to pull it behind him without it looking like an effort adds a little more fire to the building desire in his gut. Then it shifts, and Jason's head tilts back as the scales melt down, overtaken by pale skin that slowly becomes two long, muscled legs.

Jason stands, and for a moment his gaze gets drawn to the length between Jason's legs, hanging limp but still fairly impressive. Then he takes a slow, lingering look over Jason's human form, following the lines of muscle and the curves where bones rest beneath the skin. Follows the tracks of long scars and small ones, showing proof of claws and teeth and some that look a lot like they're from blades. Things most men would have died from.

Jason turns, arms held slightly out to his sides as he slowly rotates. His breath catches at the realization that Jason is not only allowing but encouraging him to look, to examine, to judge. He also realizes that there's a kind of tension to Jason's muscles, one that's even more apparent when his merman turns all the way back around and that deadly mouth is slightly parted, head just barely bowed, gaze so intense it feels like he's the sole focus of the world.

"Are you impressed?" Jason asks, and there's a rhythm and a hunger to the question that feels like challenge and something deep and important all at once.

He considers — Jason's looks, his gifts, his power — and then simply answers, "I am."

Jason steps forward, seems to pause for an instant as if giving him the chance to reject the advance before continuing. He stays still, waiting until Jason is sliding hands through his hair and pulling him into a hard kiss, and only then touching Jason's waist with both hands, digging his fingers into that scarred skin and pulling the merman closer. Teeth graze over his tongue, his lips, and he almost bites back before remembering the almost ritualistic way Jason had marked his throat and deciding against it.

He twists his head away instead, breaks the kiss to the sound of a small snarl and turns down to press his mouth to the inside of one of Jason's wrists instead. He does let his teeth drag across Jason's skin for that, and then smirks in satisfaction when Jason actually shivers a little bit.

"Damian," Jason growls, low and sounding one step away from eating him alive. It should probably worry him how satisfied it makes him to know that Jason is controlling himself purely for his sake. On his order.

He draws back from Jason's wrist, raises his gaze to the blue-green one staring down at him, and loosens his grip on Jason's waist. "I wish to know more about this courtship." He pulls back, freeing himself from Jason's grasp, and then wraps one hand around Jason's arm and tugs the merman with him. "Lie down with me, and teach me."

Jason yields to his touch without even a pretense of struggle, allowing himself to be pulled along to the bed inlaid against one wall. "As you wish."

He lies down and presses his back to the wall, leaving room for Jason to follow him down onto the narrow bed. They're almost pressed together for a moment, before Jason shifts a bit back and, to his surprise, lies down on his stomach. The merman's head is still turned towards him, but the expanse of his back is open and bared, and by the way Jason tilts to nuzzle against his lower shoulder, eyes closing, he thinks that's a very intentional position. A simple but important show of trust.

He raises his hand to touch the small of Jason's back, and then run his fingers slowly up the length of his merman's spine. Jason hums a noise that sounds pleased into his shoulder, nips a little bit and then immediately soothes the sting with another hum and a gentle kiss.

It's difficult to resist the urge to curl his hand to nails and see if Jason likes that as much as the grazes of teeth, but he does. Later, he can experiment with his merman's responses.

"Ask what you want to know," Jason tells him, head turning a little farther and eyes opening again, looking up at him. "Anything."

That offer steals his breath for a moment; there are so many things he wants to know, so many as of yet untapped resources that must be locked in the head of a creature who's lived as many years as Jason has. There has to be. But he reins those impulses in, narrowing his questions to the ones actually related to the topic he's professed immediate interest in. Mainly, finding out precisely what he's gotten himself into by agreeing to this 'courtship.'

He strokes over Jason's back, idly tracing the lengths of scars and the planes of smooth skin before asking, "Have you done this before?"

"Courting?" Jason asks, voice low, and at his confirming nod the merman gives a small shrug. "Once, a long time ago and with one of my own kind." He waits, and Jason's gaze falls for a moment. "It didn't go well; he asked and I left. It was my mistake."

There's more to that story, but he swallows away his curiosity and slides his hand up instead, tangling his fingers in Jason's hair and drawing him up into a relatively soft kiss. Brief, but enough for Jason to give a quiet sigh and relax a little bit. He lets go, trails his fingers down Jason's neck and back to the lines of his back.

"You have been with others though, yes?" He finds it a little hard to believe that Jason, in all those countless years, has never been with anyone but the one other merman.

Sure enough, Jason gives a small grin and nuzzles his shoulder again. "Yes. Humans. No one I courted though, those were simpler. Not that I didn't…" Jason's brow draws down, and his eyes close. "I cared for them, I claimed them, but this is… Courting is different, for my kind."

"Explain the difference."

Jason moves, rolling over to lie on his back instead and look up at him. One hand rises, finding the slightly sore bruise on the side of his throat, the mark sucked into his skin. "This is a claim," Jason murmurs, and then quickly adds, "Well, half a claim. A full one would be a bite that drew blood, with my real teeth." He winces at the thought, and Jason gives a little snort. "I can draw blood without shredding your throat; promise." Then the amusement drains away, Jason's fingers still lingering on the mark on his throat. "I shouldn't have done this. I knew I wanted to claim you, but I didn't think about courting until I'd already… I'm sorry."

He considers that information, resting his hand on Jason's chest, between the impressive pectorals and near a thin scar that follows the line of one rib to his side. "Later," he decides, "you can tell me why that matters. For now, continue with the explanation."

A nod, and Jason shifts a little closer to him.

"Claiming is… violent, usually. It's accepted among my kind that if one of us can defeat another, they have the right to claim who they've defeated, if they want to. It's temporary, not a for-life thing, but it's pretty common for claims to be forced." Jason's eyes snap up, and there's a quick explanation of, "It's not bad. I mean, we don't allow repeated, abusive claims. It's just seen as a right the winner has, if they think the other person is good enough to want a brood with them. Most of the pairings among my kind are like that. I know it's… different, for humans. I've seen that."

"Then, courtship is…?"

Jason raises his far hand, curling powerful fingers around the hand he has on the merman's chest. "It's… I guess it's sort of like your normal relationships? I think? It's asking for the chance to prove that I'm good enough to be your only partner until one of us dies. To prove that I can protect you, provide for you, and that I feel enough for you to never leave. This is… It's important. I'm asking to be your equal, not just your mate, and I'm… I'm putting the choice in your hands. No matter what that choice is."

He thinks he understands. Carefully, he tugs his hand free of Jason's, and raises it to trace his fingers across that smooth jaw, up to the shell of an ear. "That is the important part, right? The fact that I am given the power to choose whether I think you are worthy? Normally, the theoretically 'weaker' partner would simply submit to whatever the victor decided, as was expected?"

Jason nods, then twists his head a bit to press that open mouth against his palm. "Yes. Whatever you want."

"Even if what I wanted was for you to leave and not come near my ship again?"

There's a flash of tension, a sharp little snarl, before Jason turns and faces him directly, holding his gaze for a moment before breathing, "Yes. If that's what you wanted, then I'd go."

He runs his fingers back through Jason's hair, then leans down and tugs his merman into a kiss. Jason lets him control it, one hand touching the back of his neck and then gripping a light handful of the hair at the base of his skull. Not pulling, just holding.

He kisses Jason until he feels almost dizzy from the lack of air, and then draws away, letting his fingers drift across Jason's cheek as he pulls up a bit. "You are putting quite a bit of power in my hands," he comments.

Jason's mouth curls into a grin that really has too many teeth in it to be entirely friendly. "I know."

He scoffs, pulling his hand back so he can press his arm against Jason's chest and hold himself up. "One night, and I am the captain of this ship. What I could do with you in a week, a month…" He taps his fingers against Jason's shoulder, considers the possibilities, and then asks, "What if I asked you for something impossible? Something you could not possibly gift me?"

The hand in his hair pulls him down, and he expects to be kissed but then Jason is just pressing their foreheads together, nose rubbing along his as the merman's other hand touches his chest. He's starting to believe the nose thing is some kind of claiming behavior as well; a less overt one.

The hand pressed against his chest clenches down, grabbing a handful of his shirt, before Jason murmurs, "I'll give you anything I can manage. Don't demand what I can't?"

"Is that my part in this?"

Jason makes a sound somewhere between a growl and a hum, still holding his head down, then gives a low laugh and catches his mouth for just a moment. "You think I'm the only person getting tested? Goes both ways, captain."

There's a soft sigh against his mouth, and then Jason lets go of him and relaxes back down against the bed. He feels the changing texture against his legs, and has to look down before he understands it. Jason's legs are shifting back into a tail, reddish-black scales coming back to the surface and feet practically melting until they become that large, solid fin at the end of the tail. He watches, partially in awe and partially for the chance to try and understand the mechanics of it. Though he's nearly certain that it's just something he's going to have to disregard as magical, because he can't think of another way for Jason to shift between the two sets of limbs.

He slowly lowers his hand, watching for any signs of displeasure as he touches those scales, runs his fingers over them. They're dry beneath his fingers, but smooth, hard, with edges too rough to be entirely comfortable rubbing against. Jason's still beneath his touch, and when he looks up he finds the merman watching him in turn, studying his expression.

"Why did you change back?" he finds himself asking. "I thought you would wish to remain mobile."

Jason gives a crooked smirk. "I can change fast enough to stop anyone who tries something, and it's more comfortable for me to be in my real form."

He glances down at the tail, his hand resting near the slight curve where Jason's hip would be. Maybe still is, beneath those scales. "Does it hurt to have legs?"

"No. It just feels…" Jason trails off, apparently looking for the words. "Stiff. It's not painful, it's just not natural."

He studies Jason, looks at all that muscle, at the color of his eyes, the black hair with that white streak. "Show me your true form. All of it."

Jason pauses, waiting a moment as if making sure that he's serious, before giving a slow dip of his head. There's a moment of silence, where Jason's eyes close, and then the merman eases back against the bed, loose underneath his touch. He swallows as he watches Jason's mouth part a little bit, teeth growing up into a forest of needle-sharp points, before his attention gets caught by the way Jason's nails are growing as well, into similarly sharp points. Jason turns his head, looks up at him, and those blue-green eyes have gone deep and bottomless, like the ocean itself. It's a subtle change, he can't say what's different about it, but it's there.

Drawn by something he can't name, he raises his hand to Jason's face, very carefully pressing his fingers against those teeth. Jason stays utterly still, letting him explore the sharp tips as he wants. He gets why when he presses just a little bit the wrong way, and one of those edges splits his skin right along the edge of his finger without even a fraction of warning. He hisses, pulling his hand back and frowning at the sliver of blood welling on it.

Jason gives a low, slightly odd-sounding laugh, that mouth of death curving into something like a grin.

"Amused, are you?" he asks rhetorically. Jason's hand rises, carefully touching his wrist and he doesn't even feel the nails against his skin. "Can you speak with those?" Jason shakes his head, and then the teeth are melting back down, to normal, mostly dull human ones.

"Here," Jason whispers, pulling his hand forward. He sucks in a small breath as Jason draws his sliced finger inside his mouth, tongue sliding wet and warm along his skin. Jason's eyes shutter closed, a quiet rumble of satisfaction vibrating around his finger. As if he's a treat.

"You do not intend to make me bleed just to taste it, do you?"

Jason laughs again, sounding a little startled, and when his finger comes free from Jason's mouth those bottomless eyes flatten out a bit, and the claws recede back to normal nails. "No," Jason says, past a grin. "There are less painful ways I could taste you, my human." The flick of Jason's gaze downwards leaves no room for debate on what the words mean, and he has to fight back the urge to swallow again.

"Maybe later," he allows, instead. "I have more questions."

"Go for it," Jason answers.

He considers his mental list, letting his eyes roam over Jason's shoulders and scars as he chooses which to ask first. "Earlier, you said you should not have bitten me. Why not?"

Jason winces. "That's— Claiming someone before asking to court them is almost unthinkable, among my kind. Claims affect both partners' minds; it wouldn't be fair or right to ask for something permanent when the other person is being driven to cooperate with you. It's manipulative and awful. The only reason I asked to court you after doing that is because I know that claims don't affect humans. The bite affected me, it still sort of is, but I knew it wouldn't affect your judgement."

"But then, if you knew I wouldn't be affected, why do you feel guilty now? Nothing has happened."

He gets a small shrug in answer, and a halting, "I guess… It just still feels wrong to me. Doesn't really matter that I knew you'd be fine; it feels like I cheated."

"You didn't," he insists. The only answer he gets is a wince and a clearly unbelieving look from Jason, so he rolls his eyes and shakes his head a little bit. "Alright, other topics. The humans you claimed; what happened to them?"

Jason's breath catches, and when he raises his gaze there's a sharp tinge of pain to the expression he finds. Until steel closes down over it. "They died," Jason answers, flatly. "Some by my hand, some by others."

He stills, and Jason holds his gaze unflinchingly. "You killed some of them? Wouldn't that—?"

"Hurt?" Jason finishes. "Yes. But it was better than allowing myself to be sold by them, or cut to pieces. Humans don't feel the loyalty that the claim brings to life in me. There's nothing holding them to it and I… I'm a hell of a prize; worth a lot of money. Not all of my choices have been good ones."

Jason seems to take his silence as a request for more information, even though it's only born from the fact he can't think of how to respond. A hand curls around his, brings his fingers to rest on the thin scar tracing the line of a rib that he'd been studying earlier.

"This was from the first human I ever claimed. I was young, naive, I'd never really been around humans, and he looked at me like I was this unbelievable gift in his life." Jason scowls and it's a bitter thing, gaze rising towards the ceiling as his teeth flash in a snarl. "When he thought he had me tamed, after weeks, he turned on me. He wanted to take me apart piece by piece and sell them to the highest bidder; tried to convince me that it would just be small things, little things, and we could still be together, be happy." Jason snorts, lets go of the hand resting on the scar. "Said that as he was slicing my side open to see if he could just reach in and snap some of my rib off."

"So you killed him," he puts into the story, and Jason nods.

"Yeah. I broke free, dragged him out to the ocean, and held him as he drowned." Jason gives a small shiver, twisting in towards him. "It was agony, but it was better than the alternatives."

He traces the length of the scar, considering his words, and then murmurs, "I am glad you chose as you did, if that matters."

Jason's expression softens, and then the merman twists to press a kiss to his shoulder. "It does. Thank you."

He lets the silence stay for a minute or so, gently tracing his fingers over Jason's skin, and enjoying the feeling of Jason's breath against his shoulder. There's a vulnerability to the way his merman's head is turned, throat bared, and he lets his hand drift up to touch that. Jason's eyes open, looking up at him, but he isn't stopped so he lets his fingers explore the feeling of muscle and delicate bone, finding Jason's pulse with his thumb. Jason stays still, relaxed and trusting, and it makes his breath catch a little bit.

The fact that a creature so powerful, so deadly, is allowing him to touch its throat without so much as a flash of teeth in warning…

He draws his hand away, resting it on Jason's collarbone as he meets the blue-green gaze looking up at him. "I want you to tell me about courtship," he demands, and Jason gives a small nod. "The rituals, the mechanics, all of it."

Jason winces, and then raises a hand to touch his outside shoulder, very gently grasping it. "I don't expect you to follow my kind's rituals. They're extreme for humans, violent, and you shouldn't have to—"

"I can handle violence," he interrupts. "Tell me, Jason."

A pause, and then Jason dips his head a bit. "As you wish." There's another small pause where Jason's brow furrows a little, teeth biting into his lower lip like he's thinking about it. "In a courtship, the courted partner tests the other in whatever way they want. Usually that's fighting — play, not serious — to test each other's skills, endurance, and strength, or some kind of hunt or chase to do the same thing. Asking for gifts, or shows of loyalty and commitment. For us, courtship is trials. It's making sure that a partner is willing to endure or do anything you want and, on the opposite side, to make sure that the person you've chosen isn't going to demand or expect something you can't do."

"So," he starts slowly, "I can test you however I want to, until I decide whether or not to accept?"

"That's right."

He lets his gaze slip down Jason's chest, feels that now almost-familiar heat in his gut at the thought of having something so powerful wrapped around his fingers. "Then, if I said I wanted you to lie on your stomach and let me lay bites down your sides, so you could be marked too…"

He lets the thought trail off, and watches Jason swallow, the hunger that flares in those eyes as they narrow.

"I'd say you sound like one of my kind," Jason says, voice slipping towards a growl. "The mer I courted never let his marks fade from my skin, like I never let mine fade from his."

There's something in him that's unfurling, some instinct enforced by his mother and the violence he grew up in. He lowers his hand down to brush against Jason's scales, demanding, "Give me your legs back," and Jason does it. No hesitation, just a breath and then the scales are fading beneath his fingers.

He pushes himself up with a flat palm to the center of Jason's chest, swinging a leg over Jason's hips to perch over him, to look down at still-hungry eyes and the faintest hint of a snarl. He slides his hands up, grips Jason's wrists and drags them up to pin them on either side of Jason's head. He presses his knees in against Jason's sides, leans his weight down into those wrists and curls his mouth into a smirk.

"Well maybe, if you win, I'll let you leave a few of those marks." Jason's eyes light up, hands twisting against his grip. "Or maybe—" he leans down, sliding to a better position with his weight off his knees, as he bares his teeth "—I'll win, and I can see how much you enjoy being bitten."

Jason is leashed power beneath him; muscle flexing and coiling like he's an inch from striking. "You already have me pinned," Jason points out in a rumble, and he smirks.

"Well, you're stronger than me." He tightens his grip till it feels like he'll bruise the skin beneath it, letting himself sink down to instinct and anticipation. "You can handle a little disadvantage, can't you, suitor?"