[Summary] - James/Lily [Mermaid!AU] He does not know what brought her to this beach, or what continues to bring her back, but he is thankful for it.

A/N – This is written for Mary (MaryandMerlin). I'm so sorry you had to wait so long for this! I don't think this is anywhere near good enough to justify that. Hope you don't mind ridiculously sappy and vaguely stalkerish. Okay, it's very stalkerish. And more a little more angsty than I was planning (but you asked for that, so I figured it was okay).


He sees a flash of red, standing out in contrast to the dull morning; fog permeates the air, and he can barely see the rocks he knows to be at the edge of the tide, but somehow the red is visible in the distance. He slides off his rocky perch when it becomes apparent that no amount of squinting will bring the object into clearer focus, lowering himself into the sea with barely a sound.

He cuts easily through the water, swimming faster than any man could walk, and he reaches the rocks in a matter of seconds. He stops behind the largest boulder, pushing his head above the water slowly, webbed hands bracing himself against the rock. He pulls up, lifting himself with just the strength of his arms, sharp fingernails digging into the seaweed and the ridges across his palms and the pads of his fingers allowing him to keep a firm grip.

He stops when his eyes are just above the level of the rock, peering through the fog. His eye sight has always been better underwater; he can see further in the murky depths of the ocean than human eyesight would allow above it, but when he is out of the water most of what he sees is vague and it becomes harder for him to pick out the fine details that would have been obvious to him in the ocean.

Sinking back into the water, he curls his body around the rock so that he is mostly in front of it but his tail is still behind, keeping his eyes just below water level. He can see better now, the fog no longer hindering him, and the shape of a woman's back is obvious as she stands close to the cliffs on the far side of the beach.

Most of what he can make out is hair - and that is what drew him to her, after all. Beautiful red locks flowing in waves, like the tide on a calm day, until it reaches the soft curve of a hip.

Knowing nothing about her, having not even seen her face, he knows that he would do anything for her.

He will do anything to make her his.

.oOo.

He revisits that same spot every day. She doesn't always journey to the beach, but she is there often enough to justify his own trip.

Sometimes, she has friends with her, a couple girls who he thinks must also be from the nearby village, but usually she is alone. He prefers those times, as he is able to focus solely on her without other people trying to block his view.

He does not know what brought her to this beach, or what continues to bring her back, but he is thankful for it.

It is in those moments, where she is alone and he is hidden, that he feels he can truly see her. Not the show she puts on for her friends, of a happy girl with few cares, but the real her - a beautiful woman who is scared of-

He doesn't know what she is scared of, but he makes a silent promise to her that he will find out and that he will alleviate her fears.

.oOo.

It is during the summer, a warm evening with a calm tide, when he makes his first mistake.

She is alone, he hasn't seen her friends for some time - distantly, he wonders what has become of them, but mostly he is simply pleased to have her all to himself, even if she does not know it.

She is carrying her shoes in one hand; he assumes she is leaving footprints in the sand, and he would have liked to be able to take a closer look, for her feet have always fascinated him, but he does not wish for her to see him.

She stops, turning fully to face the expanse of the ocean. He is able to pretend, for a moment, that she is looking at him with that wistful expression, that she thinks him as beautiful as the ocean - as beautiful as her - but that moment is gone too soon.

He watches as she drops her shoes beside her, and he can almost see the displaced sand, but then she is stretching, lifting her shirt above her head and dropping it to the ground with her shoes. He had expected her to look more alien than she does, but her body is more similar to the females of his species than he had been led to believe. She doesn't have scales or gills or fins, of course, and her body does not reflect the evening sunlight as he is used to, but she is beautiful with her muted, delicate skin and he cannot see why she would wish to conceal her body in such a way.

She lets her shorts drop, too, and then she is running into the water, uncaring that anyone could see her. Her hair catches in the wind, streaming about her face like liquid fire, and-

What is that?

But he must make some sound or movement in his confusion, for she is suddenly looking directly at him and he can see her blurred form moving as if to shield herself from his eyes.

He drops back beneath the surface of the water, turning and swimming away as fast as he can.

He knows she will have already seen, that it is too late to run, but he must try.

.oOo.

He stays away from the shore for a long time after that. He can't let his people be discovered, and he has already risked too much.

His friends are curious at his sudden change of heart; they hadn't known where he was going, of course, or they would have attempted to join him, but they had noticed his absences around the same time each day.

He can only assume that they had been gearing up to follow him, when the incident occurred. It is unlike them to leave each other with secrets for long.

.oOo.

When he does go back, he is much more careful. He stays close to his rock, as he has begun to refer to it, and he ensures that he is always well below the surface of the water.

He doesn't see her that first time, but it is no matter, he reassures himself, for she has felt the call of the ocean and she will be hard pressed to resist it.

.oOo.

The next time he visits, she is not alone. He is thankful to see her at all, of course, but he could do without the sight of the unattractive girl that she is with. He does not understand how this girl could feel so comfortable when next to someone who is clearly so much better than her.

He knows he shouldn't, especially after the last time he saw her, but he slinks around the rock, keeping close to the ocean floor, and inches closer to the humans on the beach.

He thinks from their body language that they might be talking, but he cannot hear their words underwater. He contemplates, for a moment, raising his head above the surface, but dismisses the thought almost instantly. She has already seen him once, and he cannot risk it again.

He digs claw like nails into the sand, pulling himself along by the strength of his arms when moving his tail would draw their attention to him. He's lucky they aren't really paying attention to the ocean, but at the same time, he hates it. It was his one connection with the girl, and now this other-

No.

No! How dare he? How dare this unclean man touch what did not belong to him? The girl was his, and no other's.

He can feel his features twisting into a snarl, exposing slightly pointed teeth, and he wants to surge forward and tear them apart.

It is only the thought of the others - his family, his friends - that keeps him from doing as he wishes. Instead, he manages to keep a reign on his anger until he is a safe distance away, and only then does he unleash it deep below the surface of the ocean.

.oOo.

He still visits her, despite the now near-constant presence of the man. He doesn't understand how she is so willing to give her company to such a vile creature, to waste her time on someone so far beneath her, but he could never leave her.

Not after the months he has already wasted.

.oOo.

His mood takes an instant turn for the better, when, the next time he visits, it is clear from their body language that the two are having a heated argument in the privacy of the little-known beach.

He cannot hear their words, and this time he will not close the distance between them, but he takes up his usual position in front of his rock, eyes just beneath the surface of the water, and watches.

When the man leaves, he is ecstatic, he can barely contain his joy, for he knows that he will not be coming back. That the girl will remain his alone.

That joy, however, is short lived, for as soon as the man vanishes into the distance and his small figure can no longer be seen on the path above the tears, she falls to the ground, pulling at her hair with white-knuckled fingers, and opens her mouth in a scream he cannot hear.

That is not something he can ignore, and so, as the tears stream down her reddened cheeks, he swims closer, not bothering to keep himself hidden.

She does not notice his approach at first, the tears clouding her vision and her attention clearly elsewhere, but when she does notice him she freezes completely, staring at him in shock and what he hopes is a little awe.

He pulls himself onto the sand beside her, knowing that he cannot stay out of the water for long lest he suffocate, and only then does gather herself enough to move.

He smiles widely at her as she focusses her attention completely on him, as she has never been able to do before, something he has wished for ever since his first sighting of her.

"I remember you," she says, her lips turning down into a frown and her eyes hardening despite the tears still falling freely down her cheeks. He grins sheepishly; his mother had explained some of human customs to him, after he had finally caved and told her of the incident, but he could not say the words to apologise. His vocal chords were not capable of producing the sounds required for the human language.

But that was alright, because she was his, and everything that he is belongs to her, and he knows that everything will work out for them.

One day soon, she will know that, too.