One day, a long time ago, there was an island.

Not a very special island, in all honesty, just an island. It was pretty small, one could walk from one end to the other in less than an hour. The beach was sandy, except for a small corner which was mostly rocks. The rest of the island was mostly forest, not too dense, but still thick enough to get lost in. It was deserted; no one had been to that island before, at least not for a few decades. No ships ever came close to it, so it likely wasn't on any maps.

So Francis found it a perfect place to take it easy.

Francis Bonnefoy was… a little different. He had shoulder-length blond hair, eyes so blue they almost looked purple, and a pretty smile. That in of itself wasn't too strange, but it was everything else that was.

You see, Francis was a merman. He had no legs like a human, but a teal green scaly fishtail. He lived in the sea but, unlike most merpeople, found a lot of comfort in seeing the sky and even looking at the land.

It was about midday. Francis was on the shore, simply lying with his back on the sand, about half of his body above the water line, the other half still submerged in the refreshing saltwater. Staring up at the blue sky, he watched the clouds lazily go by. A large storm had just passed through the night before, so Francis was just happy to see the sun again.

He hummed softly to himself, then winced a little. A small stab of pain shot through his lower abdomen. He gently rubbed the area, bringing a little comfort to the sore spot.

"It's been a week, it shouldn't still hurt so bad," he mumbled to himself.

Yeah, it's ONLY been a week, a voice in his head told him.

He sighed, the pain dissipating. Francis knew the voice was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Given what had happened, it was a surprise he was doing so well. Still, he hated feeling so weak.

"Yeah, glad I'm never doing that again," he laughed a little as a small wave washed over him.

He was glad that he had made it to that island when he did. It hadn't entirely planned on being there, but given the lack of both human and merperson activity, it was a nice place to just lie low, a good place to recover.

Francis let out a long sigh.

"It'll get better," he told himself. "And I'll never have to go through it again."

Arthur Kirkland groaned. His head hurt, his legs hurt, his back hurt… hell, everything hurt. His clothes were damp and he smelled seawater. Soon, he could feel the sand under his hands and face, and eventually the heat of the sun.

"What the hell…" he groaned, then forced himself to open his eyes.

The light was so bright that he immediately squinted again, but he refused to let himself go back to sleep. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out sand in front of him. Then there was green, trees and shrubs in the distance. He could still hear the water lapping softly behind him.

"Where…?"

Arthur pushed himself up and onto his back before sitting up. He saw he was on some kind of beach. It was a peaceful beach, but a deserted beach nevertheless.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked himself, rubbing his head. "What happened?"

He spent a few minutes just sitting there, trying to figure out how he got there. It eventually came to him. He remembered the storm, being on the deck, holding down the lines, then the wave. He felt his body being pitched overboard like a ragdoll. He didn't remember anything after he hit the water, just the cold and the achy feeling in his bones. And now…

"... Now I'm here." Arthur breathed.

The cold was settling in; he was sore and tired, exhausted really.

"Oh god, how am I going to get back?"

Panic began setting in, and even while his bones protested, he stood and started pacing.

"They won't be able to find me, it's almost noon; they would have found me by now if they knew I was here."

He continued to pace for a few more minutes until he was a tired mess. Once again, Arthur sat down in the sand, trying to figure out what the hell to do. There wasn't much, he realized, that he could do, at least not in this area of this island.

"I'm not gonna get much done with just sitting here, am I?"

As much as he wanted to just lie back down and go to sleep, he remembered what he'd learned years earlier, how to survive a situation like this. First things first: know your surroundings. So Arthur begrudgingly got up again, stretched his aching joints, and began to look around. The beach stretched equal lengths either way, the waves lapping gently onto the sand. Nothing was on the beach, so Arthur started walking along the shore, just to see the perimeter.

For some time, he simply walked. There wasn't much else he could do, after all. The beach was mostly sand, at least until he reached what seemed to be the corner of the island. This area was mostly rocks, jutting up from the water and the sand. Arthur started to climb them, wondering if he could see anything from the top. He couldn't, unfortunately, but he did notice something else. There was an area where the rocks were very close to the water, and a small area was almost completely enclosed by the stone. It was almost like a tide pool.

But that wasn't what caught Arthur's attention. It was what was in the pool that got him interested. It looked like two white stones, which stood out against the dark brown rocks that they were nestled against.

"Strange," he whispered to himself.

Without really thinking, he climbed down to the pool. He squatted on the rock ledge next to the pool. Now that he was closer, he could tell that they weren't rocks… but eggs. Arthur had once seen an ostrich egg, and it was the only thing he could compare these eggs to. They were roughly the same size as an ostrich's egg, although these ones might have been a bit bigger. What really intrigued him was the color. One was white and had red speckles, the other one was a soft blue and had red and white speckles.

"Now what in god's good name are these from?"

He could only imagine how big the mother of these eggs must have been given their size. And yet, in all of his time at sea, he couldn't think of a single thing big enough that could possibly lay claim to eggs like these. Maybe whales, but they had live pups, he knew that. Another thing that was odd was that they looked like bird eggs with a hard shell, despite being in water, which should imply that they would be jelly-like. Carefully, curiosity getting the better of him, Arthur picked up the blue egg. Its surface was firm in his gentle grip, but he found it to not quite be what he was expecting.

Unlike the hard shell of a bird's egg, the shell of this egg was soft and flexible, but also firm, like a thick sheet of rubber. He picked up the other egg and, yes, it was the same. It was the strangest thing that Arthur had ever seen.

"What the hell laid these?" he wondered aloud.

He thought of the contents, wondered what tiny creature was inside, but more than that he wondered why their parents had left them there alone. Even most fish stayed with their offspring for just a little while and these eggs looked like they'd been left alone for some time.

His stomach rumbled. Arthur's practical side started thinking about the fact that these eggs could be some nutrition, but very quickly his good side knew he didn't actually want to do that. He decided that, whatever these eggs belonged to, he didn't want to piss it off, so he very gently put the eggs back into the pool, just as he'd found them. It was odd, there was some kind of paternal instinct telling him to make sure they were safe.

"Weird," he admitted. "They aren't even mine, and yet…"

Arthur shook his head. It was better to leave them to their own devices. They were eggs, they were tiny creatures, they would figure it out, he supposed.

As he walked away, he had no idea that he left a mark on those eggs.

"GODDAMNIT!"

Francis jerked awake. It was morning, just after sunrise. What the hell had awoken him? He sat up, his head and chest breaking the surface of the water, looking for anything that could have made such a noise.

Was that a voice that I heard?

Francis wasn't sure, but as he listened closer, he could have sworn he heard some kind of angry snarl. Unsure of what exactly he was about to witness, he swam out into slightly deeper water and followed the noise.

Meanwhile, Arthur was losing his mind. After half a day of searching a sleepless night, he was at the end of his rope. He found absolutely nothing, nothing that could help him get off of that island. He'd spent the night angry and cold and tired and hungry. He had seriously considered going back for those eggs, but then that odd paternal feeling to protect them came back in full force. Plus, he didn't want to trek all the way to the tide pool to get those eggs.

When he'd woken up, his anger had gotten the better of him. He started screaming to the ocean, shouting, asking why it had brought him there, why it had taken him from his life back home, why it didn't allow him to leave, to live in miserable pain. It eventually got exhausting, so he sat down in the sand and put his head on his knees, trying to get rid of the headache that was beginning to form from dehydration and hunger and stress.

"Why? Why god…" he whimpered.

After a few more minutes of sulking, Arthur heard an odd splash. It didn't sound like the waves crashing on the shore, but it sounded like something had jumped out of the water. He looked up, and froze.

There, maybe thirty feet out into the water, was what looked like a person.

"What the hell?"

Arthur stood. Sure enough, it was some person. It looked like a man, a man with long blonde hair. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and Arthur could only see him from the waist up.

"Hello?"

The man in the water looked at him, and seemed startled. Arthur felt a little relief upon seeing he wasn't alone, but then realized that this person didn't know him and was potentially frightened of him. This was his only companion and maybe a way off of this island.

"Hey," he tried again, waving at the man gently, and started walking closer to the water. The man didn't move closer, but seemed less scared now.

"Who are you?" Arthur tried again, this time walking into the water. He had long since taken off his shoes and stockings.

"Francis Bonnefoy," the man replied softly.

"Francis," Arthur repeated, solidifying the name. "I… I'm Arthur. Arthur Kirkland"

"Arthur…" Francis replied, also solidifying the name. He smiled a little upon getting the name right.

Arthur noticed how… pretty Francis' voice was. He hated to admit it, but he quite liked the way he said his name.

A memory flashed in his mind, one where he'd been told again the story of sirens, singing to make sailors fall to their death.

What the hell Arthur? Francis has nothing to do with that, he told himself.

Then he saw something, something he hadn't noticed before. A fishtail, just a few inches from Francis. It was teal and, more disturbingly, it was proportioned for a human.

Arthur stumbled, stopping dead in his tracks.

"Arthur?" Francis asked, confused.

Arthur couldn't say anything. He was still reeling from the fact that Francis was a merman.

Holy shite they do exist. No, that can't be; they're just myths, right? But then how does that explain this Francis person? What the actual hell is going on? Am I dead or something?

"Arthur?"

He snapped to his senses and backpedaled.

"Stay away from me!" he yelled.

Francis jumped a little, then the color left his face. Fear was etched in his eyes. Arthur couldn't help but feel a little twinge of guilt, but he had to protect himself.

"What the hell are you?" he barked.

Francis looked at his tail, then back at Arthur. He said nothing, but simply gave a look asking Arthur if he understood. Unfortunately, he did.

"No, no no no no," Arthur shook his head. "Merpeople are not real, you shouldn't be real, you can't exist!"

He was too distraught to keep talking. Mumbled gibberish was all his mouth could make. Francis understood, however, and let the man speak. He had once seen a human, and knew that the existence of his kind was disputed amongst humans, so he knew that this Arthur was simply in shock.

Still, he didn't like seeing this man so upset. There was something about this Arthur that he liked. Arthur's sandy hair that refused to be tamed, his green eyes and the way they sparkled, and even his bushy eyebrows had caught his attention. Francis found himself… entranced by his good looks. It was strange just how much he liked this Arthur, despite the way he was talking to him.

Arthur, finally, calmed down after a few minutes. He sat down in the sand, something he was doing a lot of lately.

"Arthur," he heard his name, spoken in a voice so gentle it actually calmed him down.

He looked up. To his surprise, he found that Francis had dragged himself onto the shore next to him. Arthur couldn't help but stare at Francis' fish-like tail, and only then did it register that Francis was on the shore and not in the water.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he questioned, scooting away, ready to chuck the merman back into the ocean. "What about the water?"

Francis smiled a little, clearly amused.

"I'll be fine," he said. "As long as I don't dry out I'll be okay."

Arthur stopped moving away. He looked at Francis, still unsure, but eventually nodded.

"Are you okay?" Francis asked.

"What?"

Francis cocked his head.

"You're upset; what's wrong?"

Arthur said nothing. He was just too unsure of everything that had happened, he honestly wasn't even sure that this was all real.

Francis looked out at the sea before saying: "You come from out there, don't you?"

Arthur was surprised by how observant this merman was, but he answered him, despite thinking he was still hallucinating.

"Yeah, I got washed overboard in the storm and ended up here. I don't know how to leave."

Francis said nothing, just listened.

"It's not even like I could really live here. I can't find any water, or food, or hell even any blankets to keep me warm."

Arthur sighed, rubbing his pounding forehead. It was quiet, just the sound of waves lapping on the shore. Then Arthur felt something around him. He realized that Francis had roped him in a slightly-awkward hug.

"Francis?"

"I'm sorry," the merman replied. "I'm sorry you're so upset and that you ended up here."

Arthur was surprised by this to say the least. Within the span of ten minutes, he'd not only proven the existence of merpeople, befriended one, but had spilled his current grievances to it, and now it felt bad enough that it was hugging him and trying to comfort him. And yet, despite all this weirdness, he actually quite liked it. He found that he liked Francis, despite his French accent.

"I mean, it's not your fault," Arthur mumbled.

"Non, but I don't like seeing you upset, and you were brought here against your will."

Francis' kind words made Arthur melt a little. He didn't want to admit it, but he had gone so long without physical contact that he'd forgotten what it was like to hug another human… well, person. It was so nice to feel the heat of another body, especially after the cold night before. A little awkwardly, Arthur put his own arm around Francis' shoulders.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, I… I didn't mean it… I'm probably just losing my mind a little."

"It's okay, you've had a lot of stress lately," Francis replied. "I understand."

Arthur didn't know what Francis meant exactly, but he could tell that Francis did indeed forgive him. After a few minutes of just hugging, Francis let go.

"You're hungry?"

Arthur nodded.

"I'll be okay for a while, you can always last longer without food than you think. It's water I'm worried about."

Francis had an odd look in his eyes.

"Are you going to be on this beach? Like for the next hour?"

Arthur nodded again, unsure of what Francis had in mind.

"Yeah, why?"

He realized Francis was dragging himself back into the water.

"I'll be back soon," the French merman replied. "I promise I'll be back."

Somehow, Arthur knew he was telling the truth, so he just let Francis go. Once the merman slipped beneath the waves, Arthur looked around and then back at the forest. He had only walked the beach and hadn't gone more than twenty yards into the forest, and that was only to curl up under a shrubby tree to preserve warmth.

"Maybe there's water in there somewhere?" he wondered to himself.

He looked back at the ocean. What if Francis came back and found him gone? As strange as it was to have a merman as a friend, he was still the only friend Arthur had right now and he didn't want to lose him. He got an idea; he gathered a few rocks and arranged them in an unnatural way. Hopefully Francis would understand.

An hour later, Arthur walked out of the woods, having found nothing. Another thirty minutes later, Francis showed up again. He had a large fish in his arms.

"Sorry it took me so long," he apologized, throwing the fish onto the sand. "It took me a while to find one big enough."

Arthur stared at the fish, then at Francis.

"You… got that… for me?"

Francis hauled himself onto the sand.

"You said you were hungry," he replied. "Besides, you look like you need to build your strength up again."

Arthur was so touched upon hearing these words. Francis, this random merman whom he'd only just met, was kind enough to not only worry about his well-being, but also go out and get him food to recover. Maybe this merman was just as lonely as he was and just wanted a friend, just like him.

"What about you?" Arthur asked.

"What about me?"

Arthur crouched down so he could easier talk to Francis.

"Aren't you hungry too?"

Francis looked away.

"I'll be fine."

Arthur didn't like that. Not one bit.

"Well, you caught it for me, so as a gentleman, it's my duty to share with you."

Francis was surprised by this statement.

"Really?"

"Of course," Arthur replied as he began to rearrange the rocks to make a makeshift fire pit. "That's what friends do after all."

"Friends?" Francis asked, as if he couldn't believe his ears.

"I mean, if you want to be…"

He once again felt Francis hug him tightly.

"I'd like that," he whimpered. "I'd like that a lot."

Once again, Arthur returned the hug.

Several hours later, Arthur had built a fire and had cooked the fish, making sure Francis had a raw filet since that's what he normally ate. He couldn't help but laugh when Francis had tried the cooked fish for the first time and immediately went out to find another fish to cook up. After awhile, they just sat on the sand, watching the sunset.

"That was delicious," Francis sighed.

"Really? I thought I'd burnt it." Arthur scratched his head a little. "I mean I just stuck it in the fire, didn't do anything other than that."

"Hmm, then maybe I should thank the fish for being so delicious and thank you for not ruining it," Francis teased.

Arthur playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"Whatever, ya bloody wanker."

A few minutes later, he heard Francis reposition himself on the sand, but that was quickly followed by a small hiss. Arthur looked back and saw Francis had his jaw clenched and rubbing at his side.

"Hey, you alright?"

Francis nodded.

"Oui, I'm… I'm okay."

"You sure?" Arthur asked, clearly not believing him. "You're not looking so good."

Francis debated with himself for a moment.

"Just… just a cracked rib, I think," he lied. "It's almost healed now, but still a little sore."

Arthur stared back at him, but ultimately accepted this answer.

"You should've said something," he told him. "And you shouldn't have gone out to get food if you're still recovering."

Francis laughed a little, finding it funny how Arthur sounded like a worried mother.

"It's okay, I would've had to go out anyway."

"Still," Arthur replied simply. "Don't hurt yourself; I can help if you need it."

Francis smiled.

"Okay… okay, fine," he joked, this time being the one to punch Arthur in the shoulder.

Arthur laughed a little, then quieted as Francis shifted slightly and seemed to droop a little. He could see how tired the merman was. Knowing he was recovering from some sort of injury, Arthur couldn't help but worry. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and got Francis to lean on him for support.

"Arthur?" Francis questioned when he realized what Arthur was doing.

"Just rest," Arthur replied, an arm around his shoulder. "You're tired and you need it."

Francis was surprised, but smiled and nuzzled into Arthur's shoulder.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Arthur murmured back.

They watched the sunset. Arthur couldn't help but notice the small heat in his chest, and the small flutter of his heart when he thought about how Francis was so close to him.

A week later, no one had come for Arthur and there was no sign that anyone would come for him. After much screaming and anger, Arthur finally accepted that he was going to be there for a while. During that week, Arthur had gone into the forest to search for water. He eventually found a freshwater spring, thank god.

All the while, Francis had stuck around, catching fish for the both of them. They ate their food together, talked together; simply just being in each other's presence was comforting. Francis began to heal from his injury, though he often played the injured companion card and tried to get close to Arthur, claiming he was cold. Arthur found it odd, yes, but didn't deny him because he liked it too. He found that Francis was interested in cooking, and it turned out he had a real knack for it. Francis began cooking from then on out.

But after a week of being stuck on that island, Arthur finally had to accept his fate that no one was coming to rescue him, and it almost broke him. Francis was there when he threw every English insult in the book at the sea; he had never seen anyone so angry. After he finished, Arthur sat in an exhausted heap, prompting Francis to cuddle up next to him, gently comforting him. That had made Arthur feel a lot better.

He'd asked Francis if he was going to leave, since he was at home in the sea.

Francis had given him an odd look, then said he honestly didn't want to leave. When prompted, Francis explained that he wasn't that close to any other merpeople, didn't have any real relationships with anyone, and was pretty lonely. He hesitantly asked if Arthur would mind if he stuck around, to which Arthur told him that he wanted nothing more than for Francis to stay. The two spent that night just cuddling, both convincing themselves they did it out of the cold of the night air.

Another week went by, one of Arthur feeling a small but definite heat in his chest every time he so much as thought of Francis, and one where he still had a small flicker of hope that he would be rescued. But as the sun set on the 14th day, his hope was extinguished like a candle's flame. He had dropped into the sand, trying not to cry.

Francis was next to him in a minute, hugging him tightly, trying to comfort his… his…

At that moment Francis didn't know what Arthur was to him, and it caught him off guard when he felt like 'friend' wasn't good enough; he wanted Arthur to be more to him.

Maybe it was the way he tensed, maybe it was the way his breathing changed upon the realization, maybe it was the heat that emanated from his skin out of shame, but Arthur could tell that something had happened and turned to look at the merman. The blush was clear on Francis' face and his heartbeat was clear since they were so close. Arthur found his own face was on fire.

He knew it was probably because he was upset about being left on this island and because Francis was the only person around, but all at once, Arthur wanted more of Francis. His body ached for something he'd never wanted before, something he'd never had before. He wanted nothing more than…

Before he even knew what he was doing, Arthur was cupping the back of the merman's head with one hand, brushing his long blond hair out of his face with the other hand. In that moment, Francis felt it too: a fire in his chest that threatened to kill him if he didn't act on it.

"Francis…" Arthur roughly breathed, making the merman squirm.

"Please, just-" Francis started, but couldn't get any more words out.

Arthur took that opportunity to act.

He mashed their mouths together. Francis moaned into the kiss as their tongues fought for dominance, both being worthy contenders. Briefly, they pulled away, keeping their foreheads touching, gasping for air.

"I love you, Francis…" Arthur somehow got out.

"I love you too," Francis replied softly. "God, I love you too."

Hearing those words sent Arthur over the edge. In an instant he was shoving his tongue down Francis' throat and hands were anywhere and everywhere.

That night they made love.

They weren't entirely sure how, but they did and they didn't question it.

They both woke up the next morning, wrapped in each other's arms, both covered in bruises. But they were both incredibly happy.

"Arthur," Francis whispered as the sun began to rise.

"Hmm, yeah?" Arthur replied, nuzzling into the merman's neck.

Said merman hummed a little as he felt Arthur's warm breath on his neck before answering: "What are we now?"

Arthur pressed his lips to the back of Francis' neck.

"Well, I'd like to think of you as my boyfriend," he admitted. "If you're okay with that."

"Of course I'm okay with that."

They both smiled and made out once again, softer this time, more gentle.

And so it went for the next week or two.

Arthur began to chart the island, starting to slowly understand each tree and rock. He found an almond tree and even an apple tree further in the forest. Before long he started to build a small shelter and a proper fire pit. Francis stayed with Arthur as much as he could, but being mostly water bound was a bit difficult. Still, he found it alright to just lay on the beach and watch Arthur work, occasionally going out to catch fish. At night they would lie together on the sand, either making out or having sex, then falling asleep in each other's arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Arthur wondered just how lonely he was, to fall in love with a mythical creature in just a few weeks. But then again, it seemed like Francis was pretty lonely too, like they were both waiting for each other for their entire lives and hadn't realized it. Deep down they both knew that they really shouldn't have fallen for each other so quickly, but at the same time, they were so infatuated with each other that they didn't care. To them, having one another was pure bliss.

It was quiet. Other than the sounds of the water lapping against the rocks, nothing disturbed the silence. In the small rock tide pool, the two eggs sat next to each other, being there just as Arthur had left them. Nothing was amiss.

Except that one of them moved.

The blue egg shifted, just a little bit, but enough that it bumped into the white one. Within seconds that one moved too.

A small crackling noise started.

Francis awoke with a gasp.

Panting, it took him a moment to realize where exactly he was. He remembered that he had convinced Arthur to sleep with him in a deep tide pool that night, one deep enough they could both sit in it without any problems. Francis had started to dread waking up on the beach being mostly bone dry, meaning he was horribly uncomfortable and probably endangering his health more than was really necessary. So, Arthur had stripped down to his drawers and they had fallen asleep holding onto each other in the tide pool.

Francis breathed heavily, trying to figure out what woke him. Deep in his gut, he knew something wasn't right, he didn't know what, but something was up.

"Francis?" Arthur's sleepy voice came. "What's going on love?"

He couldn't help but feel a little bit of relief from Arthur's voice. He'd recently given him the nickname of 'love', which made Francis melt every time he heard it. Still, it didn't alleviate the strange feeling that had woken him.

"I don't know," he eventually settled on, resting his head once again on Arthur's chest. "Something just doesn't feel quite right."

He felt Arthur press a soft kiss to forehead.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Arthur mumbled, clearly trying to fight off sleep. "But we'll check things out in the morning, alright?"

"Okay…"

Francis did feel a little better now, not much, but enough that soon Arthur's heartbeat lulled him to sleep again.

Author's Note:

Hello my people!

So if you know me, you'll know that this is a new story and my second story on the site; how fun! If you don't know, I've also written A Frenchman's Tail, which I'm still working on, don't worry. But recently, a reader reached out to me and requested this story (*swoons with happiness*); hence, What Makes a Family is now on the site!

So I honestly didn't think I would like writing Mermaid!France so much, but it's starting to grow on me honestly. So given what's happened so far, I'm sure you can guess where this story might be going, but stick around! There's going to be... Drama! Romance! Heartbreak! Magic! Adorable babies! Stupid siblings! And much more! Okay but in all seriousness this story is going to get interesting soon so stick around if you want to know where this story goes!

Also one thing, if you've read A Frenchman's Tail, there's a good chance you've noticed that my writing style is different in this story. Or maybe it hasn't deviated too much, but if it has, then it probably has to do with some other writing that I've had to do recently, which was set in a completely different time period and had a completely different 'feel' to it, so some of that is probably rubbing off.

But I digress, I'm rambling again. My cat Jack is currently sitting on my laundry basket of clean clothes but he says hi T^T. In any case, I hope you like the story and see you next time!