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fennorians · 2 years

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TES Summerfest Day 3: Curse

Summary: Faolan struggles with the reality of being a Companion.

Tagging: @tes-summer-fest @vilkas

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Blood, animal death

Iron floods his mouth, earthy and metallic, and the wolf spirit within Faolan howls in triumph.

As soon as the taste of blood permeates his tongue, the moon-haze over his mind clears. The deer beneath him is still twitching, breath rasping wetly in its ruined throat as Faolan’s fangs slip from the tattered flesh. In the form of the wolf, he’s powerful - enough that the deer never stood a chance from the moment he caught its scent on the wind - and yet far weaker than he was before the spirit settled within his flesh. The moment he’d shifted into this creature of white fur and bloodrage, helpless before the silvered moons that rise this night, he’d been unable to think of anything but the hunt.

When he hunts with a bow or sets traps along game trails, his mind is focused with a rare clarity. When the wolf takes over, he is nothing but rage and the thrill of the chase. Only the kill can drive the madness from him. He hates it, succumbing to bestial rage in order to escape its clutches, but he has found no other way than the one practiced by the Circle.

He watches the deer’s blood soak the earth, his massive paws, feels it drip from his jaw to stain the ruffle of fur at his chest. It’s still in its death throes, seizing before him as noises of primal distress spill from its bloodied mouth. If he’d killed it with an arrow, it would have been gone before the pain sank in. As the wolf, all he can inflict is a slow, brutal death - and he will, every night the moons swell to fullness, every time Hircine calls from the trackless thickets.

He’s almost afraid to taste its blood again, but he lowers his head to its throat and bites down hard, squeezing for those last interminable seconds until it falls limp in his jaws. He releases the moment its last breath fades to the ringing silence which follows the hunt - but something far less honorable than hunt took place here. This was a slaughter.

On shaking legs, he turns from the deer and bolts into the undergrowth. He can run faster and further as the wolf, and yet he’s come to fear the boiling in his blood that such exertion brings. He can never tell when his mind will slip again. His head’s been hazy since the first night he transformed, confused and only half-willing, and fled from Whiterun into the plains beyond. Around him, the woodland is alive, his ears catching every rustle of scurrying in the undergrowth and his nose catching a blend of scents - moss, water on rock, deer fur, owl. The forest parts around him, branches whipping at his coat and leaves crackling beneath muffled pawpads, the scent of blood and earth cloying in his nose and the breeze in his ruffled fur. Keeping pace with the wind has always been the best part of his new nature, but all too often, it’s turned to the purpose of chase and kill.

It’s not that Faolan is opposed to killing. He’s hunted his entire life, and he chose the path of a warrior willingly - but that’s just why he finds himself fearing this thing he has become. Whenever he took lives before, it was his own choice, as painless and wasteless as he could make it, turned to some higher purpose than some craving for violence. Now, he serves something far darker and more unknowable than his own mind.

He lopes through the wending paths until the trees thin and he comes upon the shores of a lake that stretches rippling towards the distant hills. The ground beneath his feet shifts from rich loam and fallen leaves to thin moorland soil and shifting pebbles. The scents of the forest are washed away by the wind on the water. He slows to a walk as he reaches the waves lapping on the shore. In the moon-silvered water, his own haunted eyes stare back at him, wolfish but no less green. The rest of the face is not his own.

Faolan has felt an exile within his own body before - a Nord staring from behind elven eyes - and yet never has his own nature made him feel so removed from himself.

The form of the white wolf feels cloying, wrong, as if he’s been crumpled up and forced into a shape he cannot possibly fit. Coiled power rests in each muscle lining his sleek form, in the jaw lined with dagger-sharp fangs and the massive paws bristling with thornlike claws, in the ears that can hear the moonlit moors come alive for miles around. His pelt is thick, braced for blows from any weapon, and his body is something quick and lethal, built for the kill. He ought to wear this new shape like a second skin, revel in the speed of his legs and the strength of his body and the sharpness of his teeth. He is more dangerous than he’s ever been, an incarnation of the hunt he loves. Still, parts of him feel muffled, as though shrouded behind a veil of moonlight.

He stands on the rolling pebbles of the waterside, watching tiny waves break on smooth stones, watching the green-eyed wolf reflected in the water, and soaks in the cloying wrongness of it all until he can bear no more.

Shifting back is a tricky thing, an art he’s not quite mastered, and yet he grits his teeth and wills his body back to itself. The wolf’s spirit is reluctant to be caged, and it thrashes against him, but something within him burns brighter still. In a flash of blinding pain, he’s a man once more, kneeling on slick rock, smears of blood sticky on his chin and chest. The drying crimson is suddenly inescapable, suffocating.

He splashes cold water onto his face and scrubs the last traces of his kill away, watching crimson bloom into the water. He scrubs himself clean until his fingers itch and his face feels chilled to the bone with lakewater. Frigid water slips into his mouth and he sucks it between his teeth until the heady taste of blood fades. Blinking away the lakewater, he takes in his reflection - this time, that of a pale-haired man. Still, in his mind’s eye, the bloodstained muzzle of the wolf remains.

Even freed from that prison of fur and fangs, something within him feels wrong. It’s like he’s swallowed a chunk of Skyforge steel and it’s burning him from the inside out. The swift agony of the transformation fades quickly, leaving only bone-weariness behind, but the wrongness of it lingers.

“Kyne fucking preserve me,” he pants to no one in particular, kneeling on the lakeshore a hand’s breadth from the lapping waves. His eyes are drawn to the golden hawk pendant suspended from his neck, dangling a finger’s span from the water, a gold reflection dancing in the depths.

Kyne. Of course. He’d never claim to know the motives of a goddess, and yet he’s grown pretty damn sure that this moonshadow darkness within him is far from what she’d want for him. Every hunt he’s ever undertaken has been in her name. It’s the purest form of worship he knows. As the wolf, can hunt with more devastating lethality than he could ever manage as himself, and yet…

The wolf hunts as a beast, not a man. The wolf does not understand restraint, or faith, or harmony. The wolf only knows how to take until the forest has nothing left to give.

The Circle calls the beast-blood a blessing. Faolan’s come to the swift, bitter realization that it is a curse.

He sits back on the shore, breathing hard, and watches the reflections of Masser and Secunda turn the water bright. Given his new nature, he’s found a reverent, creeping dread in the sight that he never before associated with the moons. Perhaps he ought to feel grateful for the trust of the Circle and this new form they’ve granted him. And yet…

Even now, he can feel that hungry presence in the shadow of the moons. Every time he tastes the blood of his prey - still sharp on his tongue despite the clean taste of lakewater - it looms over him, until he can all but hear dark laughter in his ears. There is something in the woods, watching, waiting. For what, he does not know.

The forest has been his salvation time and again. He cannot stand to look back on the dark bank of trees and feel dread running icy claws up and down his spine.

And so he closes his fingers around the amulet dangling from his neck, feels the chilled metal wrought into the shape of a bird beneath a stormcloud. It warms with his touch until it feels as though he holds a shard of summer in his hand. The darkness beneath the trees suddenly feels softer at the edges.

“Kyne preserve me,” he repeats, watching the moonlight shine luminous on the thin golden sigil clutched in his shaking palm. “Kyne…gods, what’ve I done?”

His goddess may not speak directly in his ear, and yet she is not silent. He can hear her in the murmur of leaves in the wind, in the patterns the clouds form across the starry sky of the north, in the dancing moonlight scintillating through the waves like captured diamonds. He is not alone with the beast at his back.

“I shouldn’t've let them do this.” He’s never spoken his doubts aloud before, and it eases some intangible weight from his chest. “Should’ve left. Said no. Some shit like that, and now…” He can feel his throat close up. “Part of me’s gotten twisted and I can’t get it back undone. Doubt you can hear me, but…I’m a little lost, here.”

He sits on the pebbly bank, knees drawn to his chest, and watches the lapping of the lake on the shore. The wilds have always soothed his troubled thoughts. Now, they’re a part of them.

Whatever power he’s gained from the wolf cannot be worth the darkness seeping into his heart like vines breaking through the stones of an abandoned fortress. Before, when he’d hunted only with bow or snare, he’d been part of the world beneath the rustling leaves. Now, he is too sharp at the edges to fit.

Ironic, perhaps, that the wolf made him less a part of the wild places he loves. He’d laugh if it felt less like a piece of him is missing. Something awful has taken its place, something just barely kept contained, a vicious hound on a fraying leash. He has never felt further from the goddess whose symbol he clutches in his hand.

The path forward is overgrown, and Faolan is lost in a lightless thicket. He watches the moons creep across the sky, reaching their zenith, and resentment sours his blood. To live at the whims of the moons is unthinkable. The wolf within him wants blood, wants death, and beneath the bright moonlight it claws at his insides until he’s certain he’s a tattered wreck. He’s never before felt as though a part of him wants to tear the other pieces to shreds until it’s all that remains.

He’s grown accustomed to finding his own way. Still, some part of him knows this is not a burden he can bear alone. Even out here, with the lights of Whiterun glowing like a waking dawn over the hilltops, he might as well be standing on the surface of one of the moons. The lakeshore feels a world away from anything. Isolation - perhaps that’s another aspect of his new curse. There are precious few who understand it, and most of them are taken by the bloodlust it brings. They serve the thing that laughs when he kills, watches from the woods, and he knows he cannot trust others of his kind. Still, can he truly leave the Circle? Would they even allow it?

It would be the simplest path to accept the dominion of that laughing spirit which now has a hold over his blood. Surrender is always seductively easy. Leashing this thing he’s become wears at him until he’s wondering if it would be better to just let go of the ropes.

He bows his head, lost and questioning, and when he raises it, the answer is emblazoned across the stars.

A burst of color ignites the darkness, blue and green flames kindling to life across a dozen shades of night. His breath comes up short as he watches the sky come alive with Kyne’s lights. Perhaps it’s his desperate mind reaching out, but the amulet around his neck feels a shade warmer, as though dipped in the ribbons of fire amid the stars. The slavering beast in the moonlit thickets seems to quail before the sight. Faolan feels his heart grow bolder.

He rises before the aurora, restless fingertips finding the pendant of his goddess, and knows what he has to do. Faolan Snow-Strider is not a man who surrenders, not in battle, not to the Daedric Prince that lurks over his shoulder with burning eyes. After all…

“How tough can kicking one little curse be?” he muses aloud to the moons.

The silent ribbons of light kindled by his goddess’ hand are the only answer he needs.

#tesfest22 #skyrim #last dragonborn #my writing

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i-have-not-slept · 7 months

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Animalec Fest 2023

September 21: Treasure

@animalecfest

Read the whole thing on Ao3: Animalec Fest 2023 - Chapter 1 - i_have_not_slept - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

"But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more."

― Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid

Although it was a bright day, the ocean seemed dark and bleak to Magnus as he swam. Since the day that he’d left Alec on the beach, his every waking thought had been occupied with the prince. Even in his dreams Alec came to him, wrapping his arms around Magnus’s and laying his warm cheek against Magnus’s cool one, until the warmth of his body seemed to consume Magnus.

Magnus had never known it was possible to miss another person this much.

Thankfully, his father hadn’t managed to learn about Magnus’s meeting with Alec. He’d told his best friends, though, and listened as they tried to talk him round.

“You have to forget about him.” Catarina said, her face ceased with regret. “I’m sorry Magnus, I know you care about him, but humans and mers can’t be together.”

“There’s plenty more fish in the sea.” Ragnor had added. “Literally.”

Magnus knew they were concerned about him. He was concerned about himself. He’d never felt so strongly about another person, and it scared him how quickly and deeply he’d fallen for Alec. But the thought of a lifetime in the ocean, wasting away year after year in a listless daze… it was too much.

Sitting in his grotto, Magnus looked around at the items he’d collected, representing a lifetime of work. A lifetime of fascination with the land above the waves.

He opened the wooden box where he’d hidden the prince’s ring, and slipped it back onto his finger. Then he turned in a slow circle, looking around at his cave for probably the last time. There was a lump in his throat as he swam away. He swam not towards his father’s palace, but away from it, into the open wastes of deep water where few merfolk ever went.

Out here, the water was darker, murkier, and much colder. The coral here was bleached a sickly white, and the ground was covered in the broken pieces, looking like a carpet of chalky bones. Magnus looked a little closer, and shuddered as he realised some of it was bones, mixed in with the coral. Here and there were more complete skeletons, the remains of people who had drowned in shipwrecks. Magnus swam faster, not wanting to look at them.

Magnus swam through a tangle of grasping polyps, shaking them off when they tried to drag him down. On the other side was a bare plain of black sand. The only feature in the dead landscape was a house built from dead coral-- or maybe it was more bones. Magnus swam towards it, heart thudding.

A figure emerged from the house. White as the coral itself, with ink-black hair and eyes. She smiled as Magnus approached, revealing sharp and needle-like teeth.

“Hello, Magnus dear.” she said. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“You know what I want?” Magnus asked quietly. He supposed it made sense. She had spies everywhere.

“Of course.” Lilith’s smile widened. “And I can give it to you. Come inside so we can talk.”

Magnus followed her inside warily. Many years ago, Lilith and Asmodeus had fought over this part of the ocean. Now, an uneasy truce existed between them. Lilith was allowed to remain out here in the wastelands, but all of Asmodeus’s subjects— which included Magnus— were expressly forbidden to make contact with her. Magnus was breaking his father’s laws by being here. But then, he’d broken them the second he’d decided to save Alec. There was no going back from this.

“I heard about that prince nearly drowning.” Lilith said conversationally. “Pity you saved him. I would have had his eyes for my collection if you hadn’t.” She pointed to the corner of her house, where dozens of human eyeballs floated in a pool of greenish water. Magnus flinched at the sight. He wanted to turn and swim away as fast as he could, but the thought of Alec made him braver.

“You said you could give me what I wanted.” Magnus said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

Lilith trailed her fingers across the shelves lining her walls. “I can.” she mused. “You want me to turn your tail into legs, so you can go onto the land and be with your prince.” She gave Magnus a keen look. “What makes you think he even wants to be with you?”

Magnus swallowed. “I think— he likes me.” he said hesitantly. “When we met, I think he was holding back, because he was scared of— of feeling too much. If he wasn’t scared I think things would be different.”

Lilith laughed. “So sweet, Magnus.” She smiled at him. “I can give you legs, but it will cost you. I can give you a potion to drink, which will cause your tail to change into human legs. But once on land, I can make no guarantees that the prince will love you, legs or no legs.

“You will have five days, and five days only, to win the prince over. If he rejects you, and marries another, your heart will break and you will die, and your body will dissolve into seafoam. Do you understand all this?”

“I understand.” Magnus whispered.

“And then there’s the matter of payment.” Lilith went on. “In return for my services, I want just one small thing. A trifle, really. I want your voice.”

Magnus flinched back, one hand instinctively going to his throat. “My- my voice?”

“Yes, your voice.” Lilith said. “I’m not going to make this easy for you, Magnus!” Her eyes gleamed at him. “True love must be fought for, not just given away without a second thought. If you could speak, well, you could just walk up to your prince and explain everything, and he’d just kiss you straight away. No, it must be genuine true love, or the charm is worthless. Now that you have heard all the risks, are you still willing to go through with this?”

Magnus swallowed. But he had already made his choice, hadn’t he? He could die if he went through with this. But the alternative was to waste away in the ocean, year after year, while his heart withered inside him. And that was a sort of death as well.

“Yes.” Magnus said, and his voice didn’t shake. “I am willing, and I would still be willing if you had asked for much more.”

“Brave little merman.” Lilith purred. “How devoted you are.” She turned away from him and pulled out a large scallop shell from under the table. This she placed on a shelf built into the coral wall. She began to open the stoppered shells around the room, pouring ingredients into the potion. Magnus watched her work, heart thudding. The mixture in the shell turned from murky grey, to black, to blood red.

“Your voice now.” Lilith said, turning to face him.

Magnus nodded. He lifted his chin, trying to not feel as if his throat was about to be cut. Lilith reached towards him, her hand closing lightly around his throat. She drew it back, and Magnus felt a harsh tugging sensation, like his vocal cords were quite literally being ripped out. He choked, pressing a hand to his throat. For the first time in his life, he understood the sensation of drowning.

Then it was over, and Lilith opened her cupped hand over the shell. Her hand looked like it was empty, but there was a white flash, and the potion became clear as water.

Magnus tried to speak, but no sound came out. His voice was gone. There was a weight of despair threatening to crush him, but he forced it away, thinking of Alec. Don’t look back.

Lilith poured the draught into a thin spiral shell and snapped on the lid. She handed the vial to Magnus, lips drawn back to show her sharp teeth. “Swim to the surface tomorrow before sunrise, sit yourself down and drink this. But remember, Magnus,” she said, eyes glinting, “five days, and no more.”

Magnus nodded. With the vial clutched to his chest, he swam away from Lilith’s house as fast as he could. The waving polyps shrank back from the potion he held and didn’t grab at him as he swam past them. He sped over the white coral and bones, and up into the clearer water.

He paused for a moment to gaze at his father’s palace, with its windows lit by glowing mosses. His heart ached at not being able to farewell Cat and Ragnor, but they would only try to stop him if they knew his plan. Magnus kicked towards the surface, ignoring the weight on his heart and staring resolutely ahead.

The sky was the chilly grey of pre-dawn as Magnus surfaced. He swam towards the palace and crawled up onto the beach nearby. Opening the vial, he stared at the liquid inside, shimmering alluringly.

Without hesitating, Magnus drank it in a single draught. Then he dropped the vial, gasping as a burning pain went through his whole body. It felt a sword was passing through his heart, like his tail was being slashed to ribbons on the sharpest coral. He wanted to scream, but his voice was gone, and he could only gasp, pressing his forehead against the sand as the pain rose up in waves.

Everything went black for a moment. When Magnus came back to consciousness, the first thing he was aware of was the sand prickling his scales. No, not scales. Skin.

He looked down and saw two long legs stretched out in front of him. Smooth brown skin, so much more sensitive than his scales. Magnus held one out and wiggled his toes in fascination.

Legs. He had legs.

Magnus touched the sides of his neck gingerly and found that his gills were gone. He was human. He was human, and the next thing to do was to find more humans.

He pulled himself up on a rock, took his first step, and promptly fell over.

Lying full length in the sand, Magnus realised that walking was going to take some time to master. He felt annoyed at the idea. Humans had always made it look so easy.

He pulled himself up again and tentatively tried another step, this time concentrating on his balance. This time, he managed half a dozen before overbalancing and tumbling to the ground.

Magnus scrambled up again, and then froze. There was a person coming towards him along the beach. His heart leapt wildly as he realised it was Alec. His eyes were downcast and he hadn’t seen Magnus yet. Magnus tried to call out to him, forgetting that his voice was gone. It didn’t matter, for at that moment Alce, now quite close, looked up and saw him.

He froze, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. For a long moment they just stared at each other.

“Magnus?” Alec said, in a shocked, strangled voice. “Why— how—” His face was burning, eyes darting back and forth between Magnus and the ground. “Why are you here? How do you have legs? ” His face, if possible, became even redder. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”

Magnus was so overjoyed to see him he forgot everything else, forgot the pain and his fear and the fact that Alec was getting married. He started towards Alec, but in his eagerness his still-shaky legs wobbled and he lost his balance. Alec lunged forwards instinctively and caught him before he hit the sand.

For a moment, Magnus found himself cradled against a warm, solid chest, with strong arms around him. Then Alec seemed to realise what he was doing and leapt back, shoving Magnus away. He stumbled and would have fallen again if Alec, looking ashamed, hadn’t caught his arm. He steadied Magnus, very pointedly looking anywhere except his body. Alec pulled off the blue coat he was wearing, wrapping it firmly around Magnus. It was long enough that it reached his knees, and he pulled it closer around him, relishing the warmth of the fabric, the lingering smell of Alec. Alec hadn’t seen the ring he was wearing, and Magnus quickly worked it off his finger, letting it drop into one of the coat’s deep pockets. He wasn’t sure why, but something told him to hide the ring from Alec, at least for now.

“Why are you here?” Alec asked again. His breathing was a bit slower, but the flush remained in his cheeks.

Magnus stared up at him, trying to say with his eyes what he couldn’t with his voice. As the silence dragged on, Alec’s face creased in concern. “Magnus, what’s wrong?” A gentle hand turned Magnus’s chin up and Alec studied his face worriedly. “What’s happened? Can’t you speak?”

Magnus shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. A look of pain crossed Alec’ face at the sight of him crying. For a second, it seemed as though he would embrace Magnus. Then his eyes darted around the beach, as if remembering where they were, and his arms dropped. He looked around helplessly.

“I guess you’d better come up to the palace.” he said finally. His voice was heavy.

Magnus nodded, fighting back tears. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured their meeting going. He hadn’t exactly expected Alec to sweep him off his feet and kiss him right away, but he’d been picturing something slightly warmer than this. Alec looked as if he just wanted Magnus to go away.

Three days, he thought, the words settling like stones in his mind.

Alec began to walk up the beach, indicating with his head that Magnus should follow. He took a few unsteady steps, but seeing Alec had made him feel shaky all over and his new legs refused to cooperate. He stumbled and Alec steadied him again.

“Is walking difficult?” Alec asked. Magnus nodded, staring at the ground.

Alec hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. He scooped Magnus up, sliding an arm under his back and the other behind his knees, and set off up the beach. Magnus was too surprised to race for a second, then he carefully put his arms around Alec’s neck and leaned against his chest. Alec tensed up but didn’t flinch. He carried Magnus toward the palace, moving easily despite the uneven sand. Magnus started up at the imposing building as they approached.

Alec carried him over the sand dunes and onto the grass, and set him down as they reached the stone path leading to the palace gates. The guards at the door let them in at a word from Alec, and then Magnus found himself entering a human dwelling for the first time.

For a moment, he was dazzled by the high painted ceilings, the gleaming polished floors and the corridors that seemed to stretch off in every direction. Then Alec was pulling him off to the side, and speaking to some people who had appeared as soon as they had entered�� palace servants, Magnus guessed. Then he was whisked away, and before he knew what was happening he found himself in a warm bath in the middle of a luxurious marble bathroom.

Magnus stretched out in the bathtub and considered his next move. Things were not going quite as well as he’d hoped. Alec sort of seemed like he wanted to get rid of Magnus as quickly as possible. At every moment of their brief conversation, Magnus had sensed Alec teetering on the edge of a cliff of sheer panic, like he was afraid of his own feelings. Still, he had carried him up the beach, which was something.

Magnus stared up at the ceiling, trailing his fingers through the water, which was warmer than anything he’d ever felt before. He would win Alec over somehow. He had to.

The servants had left out clothes for him. Putting on the human garments was a complete mystery to Magnus, and it took several instances of trial and error before he figured out what went where. There was a soft linen shirt, and a pair of trousers made of a thick red material, plus a pair of boots. He put Alec's coat back on as well. Staring at himself in the mirror, he decided that he looked more or less presentable.

Magnus left the small room he’d been shown to and moved quietly through the corridors, trying to orient himself with the palace. He heard voices and followed the sound to a wide room looking out over the sea. He recognised the sound of Alec’s voice before entering the room, and stepped inside cautiously.

Alec was standing with his back to the door, talking to someone— someone Magnus recognised. It was the blonde woman Magnus had seen on the ship several days ago. Also in the room were a dark-haired woman with black eyes who looked so much like Alec that Magnus guessed she was his sister. She was sitting on a settee with a blond man who looked about Alec’s age. They both looked up and seemed to start at the sight of him. The blonde woman also caught sight of Magnus over Alec’s shoulder and stopped talking, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

Alec turned. When he caught sight of Magnus, he froze for a split second— so quick that Magnus wouldn’t have seen it if he’d blinked. A look of panic crossed his face for the briefest instant and was gone, smoothed over by an expression of forced calm.

“Magnus.” he said, and there was only the slightest tremor to his voice, barely noticeable. He took a step towards him. “Are you feeling better?”

Magnus smiled and nodded, hoping this was a good start. A smile flickered across Alec’s face and he took another step towards Magnus, then seemed to realise everyone in the room was watching him. He hastily stepped back and quickly turned to the woman beside him. “Magnus, this is Lydia, my— my fiancée.”

Magnus wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the dark-haired woman across the room give a small sigh. He also hadn’t missed the way Alec had stumbled over the word ‘fiancée’. Nor, it seemed, had Lydia. Her eyes cut towards Alec for the briefest second, a look of— regret?— on her face. Then her smile returned. “Magnus, so nice to meet you. Alec’s told us how he found you on the beach. Were you shipwrecked?” She touched his arm sympathetically. “That must have been terrifying.”

Magnus looked over at Alec. So, he thought, you’ve let them think I’m a shipwreck survivor. Alec wouldn’t meet his eyes, staring fixedly at the ground.

If Lydia noticed the tension in the room, she ignored it. “Magnus, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. We’re happy to have you.” She smiled brightly at him, then turned to Alec. “I’m going to go check that the musicians have all the music they need. Can you talk to the captain and confirm the route we’ll be sailing?”

Alec smiled at her. “Of course.” It was a very forced smile, but she pretended not to notice. Alec and Lydia both left the room, leaving Magnus alone with two complete strangers.

“Jace, shut the door.” the dark-haired woman said instantly. The blond man complied with her order, and then they both turned to Magnus. The woman advanced on Magnus, and he took an involuntary step back. He wasn’t scared, exactly, but she was an intimidating presence.

“So,” she mused, studying him. “Magnus, is it?”

She surprised him by throwing her arms around him in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Magnus hugged her back, feeling stunned. She pulled away and looked at him. “We need to talk. I’m Isabelle, by the way. Alec’s sister. That rogue over there is our brother Jace.” The blond man waved at Magnus.

Isabelle led him over to one of the plush chairs and gestured for him to sit. She took the seat facing his and Jace leaned over the back of her chair. Both of them were watching him intently.

“So, Magnus.” Isabelle started. “Three days ago, my brother Alec was washed overboard in a storm and nearly drowned. He showed up on a beach claiming to have no memory of what happened to him. Now you show up, possibly shipwrecked in the same storm, and Alec brings you straight to the palace. He also somehow knows your name, despite you being unable to speak or write, as he tells us.”

She leaned forward, looking at him keenly. “I’m thinking there are a few things Alec is keeping from us. Am I correct?”

Magnus nodded emphatically. Isabelle looked up at Jace triumphantly. “I told you so”. She turned her attention back to Magnus. “Have you and Alec met before today?”

Magnus nodded again, feeling a sense of relief at being able to tell someone. Isabelle raised her eyebrows. “Intriguing.” Her expression became more serious. “You’ve probably figured out that Alec and Lydia are getting married.”

Something struck at Magnus’s heart. He nodded again, keeping his eyes downcast so they didn’t see the glimmer of tears.

“The wedding’s in five days—” Isabelle began.

“ Supposed to be in five days.” Jace cut in. “You’re forgetting the ring.”

Magnus looked between them quizzically, and Isabelle explained. “The wedding’s scheduled to be in three days, but there’s a bit of an issue with the rings. See, the tradition is to swap family rings when there’s a royal wedding. So our parents had a ring with our family symbol specially made for the wedding. But they gave it to Alec to look after, and he….well….”

“He lost it.” Jace said bluntly.

“Lost it.” Isabelle said. “Or got rid of it deliberately, we don’t know. He’s being cagey about it. Won’t tell us for sure.”

Magnus’s stomach swooped. He wondered what Jace and Isabelle would say if they knew that the ring in question was currently hidden in the pocket of the very jacket Magnus was wearing.

“Without the ring, no one’s really sure what to do.” Isabelle said. “Everyone’s still working on the wedding preparations, but if we don’t find the ring in time, the wedding will probably be delayed. So as you can imagine, our parents are not pleased that Alec’s lost it.”

Magnus kept his features still, but his mind was racing. He had the ring-- the ring that Alec had thrown away. What would happen if he produced the ring? Would Alec be angry that Magnus had hidden it? Or would he be angry at Magnus for finding it and allowing the wedding to go ahead? Did Alec want the wedding to go ahead?

“It’s an arranged marriage.” Isabelle went on. “Neither of them particularly want it, but our parents arranged it, and it’s a strong political move. I know Lydia would rather not— she told me she’s in love with a man back in her kingdom, but he’s a commoner. They’d never be allowed to get married. And Alec is….well……”

“Alec’s not really into women.” Jace supplied helpfully.

“We think.” Isabelle added. “I mean, we’ve never really discussed it. He’s never really let us discuss it.” There was an unmistakable sadness in her voice, and Magnus instinctively reached out and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, giving him a sad smile. “But now you’re here. When you came into the room just now…. I’ve never seen Alec look at anyone like that before. Ever. It’s like you’ve unlocked something in him.”

Magnus looked up at her, feeling a spark of hope. Maybe he hadn’t made a mistake by coming here.

Isabelle squeezed his hand again. “I think Alec likes you, Magnus. Really likes you. Loves you, even. And that’s why I’m happy you’re here, because I think having you around might help him realise what a horrible mistake he’s making. This marriage is our parent’s idea, but Alec hasn’t put up any sort of resistance to it. He’s just going to be miserable all his life, and so will Lydia. It’s not fair on them. Or you.”

She gave him a long, searching look. “Do you love him, Magnus? Do you love Alec?”

Love him? Magnus thought. I gave up my tail and my legs for him. I gave up my home and my family. I’d do anything for him, and even after all that, he might not even want me around.

But he couldn’t say any of that, so he only nodded again.

Isabelle’s face broke into a bright smile. “I knew it.” She looked up at Jace. “I think if we keep talking to Alec, he’ll realise he’s making a mistake and that he really wants to be with Magnus.” She squeezed Magnus’s hands, giving him a reassuring look. “I can’t promise it’ll work. But at least we’ll have tried.”

And if it doesn’t work, I’ll die, Magnus thought. But he couldn’t say that out loud, so he only smiled back at Isabelle with all the hope he could muster. The next few days would decide his fate. Either he would win Alec’s love and be free to live his life beside the man he loved. Or he would die, broken-hearted, unable even to explain what had happened to him.

Four days later, Magnus was in despair. He’d taken every opportunity he could to be alone with Alec— in the hallways of the palace, out on the balcony, on the beach. Every time, Alec had steered clear of him, citing some sort of wedding preparations he needed to oversee. He’d made sure Magnus was fed and clothed, and had told the head housekeeper, Elisa, to give Magnus anything he needed. But he’d otherwise done everything he could to avoid Magnus.

It was as if Alec had decided that, having committed to an arranged marriage, he needed to ignore Magnus’s presence, or else he would call off the engagement with Lydia.

Time and time again, Magnus felt a surge of frustration that he couldn’t speak. If he could have just confessed his feelings to Alec, told him how he felt, he was sure he could bring the prince round to him. But he couldn’t speak, and two days was not enough time to learn to write, or to work out anything but the most rudimentary of sign language.

After every botched meeting, when Alec pushed past him, or pretended not to see him, Magnus’s heart sank lower and lower. The design of the palace was such that Magnus could hear the noise of the sea from every room, and the sound made him shiver with the thought of turning into foam on the waves.

On the evening before Alec and Lydia’s wedding, Magnus could stand it no more. He ambushed Alec in the corridor, grabbed his hand and forcibly dragged him into an empty room. Alec seemed too surprised to resist. Magnus shoved the door shut and turned to face Alec, looking at him with, he hoped, everything he wanted to say on his face.

“Magnus.” Alec said, in a sort of weary exhale. “You can’t— you can’t be here. I don’t know why you came here, and I’m sorry I can’t— can’t give you what you want. But I’m getting married tomorrow, and seeing you— I mean, I can’t— ” He broke off, jaw working as he stared off into the distance. Magnus waited.

“I know you’re hurt.” Alec said in a more controlled tone. “It hurts me too.” There were two bright spots of colour burning in his cheeks, and Magnus could see how much it cost Alec, how much shame it caused him, to say even that. “But I’m going to be the king one day, Magnus, and I have— obligations— I can’t just throw my whole life away for you.”

Throw my whole life away for you. Magnus’s eyes stung. That was exactly what he had done for Alec. If only Alec knew.

Magnus tried to speak then, his throat burning as he tried to force a single sound out of his vocal chords. He mouthed the words desperately, trying to say something. Anything. A plea, a supplication. Alec’s name. One word. That was all he wanted.

No words came. The only sound he could make was a desperate, wheezing exhalation.

There was shame and sorrow in Alec’s eyes as he looked at Magnus. “I-” he began, and for a wild second Magnus thought he might be about to say I love you.

“I’m sorry.” Alec said softly. He blinked hurriedly, and left the room without looking back, walking like someone in a daze.

Magnus sank to the ground, putting his hands against the cool marble floor. Tears, hot as blood and salty as the ocean, splashed onto the cold stone. Merpeople didn’t— couldn’t— cry, and this was the first time in his life Magnus had ever shed tears. He shook with silent sobs, unable even to make a sound while he cried.

Later, after he’d cried himself out, Magnus sat quietly in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. He’d got it all wrong. Coming here had been a mistake, the worst mistake of his life. A mistake that would now cost him his life, because of his foolishness.

Magnus pulled Alec’s ring from his pocket and sat looking at it. The small gold circle was heavy in his palm, winking softly in the fading light. Magnus closed his hand around it as another tear spilled down his cheek. Looking out the window, he could see Alec out on the beach, staring at the ocean with his back to the palace.

Magnus got to his feet and walked slowly through the hallways until he reached the heavy oak door of Alec’s room. It was opposite the one Magnus had been given and he didn’t know if that had been deliberate on Alec’s part or just a cruel twist of fate.

Magnus slipped inside the room, cool and silent in the encroaching twilight. He crept to Alec’s bed, veiled by blue silk hangings, and pulled them aside. He knelt beside the bed, and for a single moment pressed his face into the silk pillow and breathed in the scent of Alec. Then he slipped the ring under Alec’s pillow and stood up. He walked away, trying to ignore the grief that magnified with every step he took. If Alec couldn’t— wouldn’t— love him, Magnus wasn’t going to fight it anymore. He would stand by and watch Alec get married, and accept his fate quietly.

Magnus went back to his own room, so cold and silent, except for the soft lapping of the waves. The sound of the sea, always so soothing to him, now sounded like a death knell. He thought he could already feel his body dissolving into foam.

Magnus curled up on his bed, wrapping his arms around himself. He closed his eyes and tried to savour what little time he had left.

When he woke the next morning, Magnus simply lay there and stared at the wall. He felt like there was a two-tonne stone pressing on him, weighing down his entire body. The whole world looked bleak, like a grey curtain had been thrown over everything.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, huddled under the blankets, but after a long time he heard a noise of footsteps outside. Then the door was roughly flung open and someone hurried over to the bed.

“Magnus.” Isabelle hissed. She shook him, not exactly gently, and Magnus rolled over and glared at her.

“Alec found the ring.” Isabelle went on. “The wedding’s going ahead.”

When Magnus didn’t react, she crouched down, trying to look into his eyes. “Magnus, we have to do something.”

Magnus shook his head, turning his face away. He’d given up, and he didn’t want to be dragged back into the agony of false hope.

Isabelle was staring at him like she’d realised something. “Magnus, did you…. did you have the ring all along?”

Magnus glanced up, then away, trying not to meet her eyes. Isabelle gasped. “You did, didn’t you? You had the ring and then you put it where Alec would find it.”

There was no use trying to deny it. Magnus nodded.

Isabelle threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t believe this. You can’t just give up, Magnus.”

Magnus made a dismissive gesture with his hands. It’s over. He wished Isabelle would just leave him alone and let him die in peace.

She crouched down, getting right in front of Magnus so he couldn’t ignore her. “Listen, Magnus," she said. “I’ve spent all morning arguing with Alec, telling him to call off the wedding. He won’t listen to me. But he loves you. I’m sure he does. The only thing holding him back is fear

Magnus tried to ignore her words, but something stirred inside his chest. It was the faintest glimmer of hope-- weak and flickering, but alive.

And suddenly he believed Isabelle. He couldn’t give up. Maybe he would still die, but he’d die knowing he’d done everything he possibly could to save himself and Alec.

There was a knock on the door, and Jace poked his head in. “They’re loading supplies onto the ship. We need to go, Iz.”

Magnus gave them a confused look, and Isabelle explained. “The wedding is being held on one of the royal ships in the middle of the ocean, just like the engagement party was a few days ago. Which seems irresponsible considering that said engagement party was interrupted by a storm that nearly destroyed the ship, but whatever.”

“It’s tradition.” Jace said. “And it’s not supposed to storm for the next few days. But it means that we have to move fast.” He looked at Magnus. “The ship is sailing in two hours, and you need to be on board when it does.”

“Our plan is to help you sneak on board and hide until the wedding starts.” Isabelle added.

Magnus looked between their faces. Jace looked serious, Isabelle determined. They meant it. They were serious about helping him. He felt a wave of unexpected gratitude, followed by resolve.

This wasn’t over yet.

The ship was impressive, even larger and more ornate than the last one Magnus had seen. It was moored in the palace harbour and people were hurrying up and down the gangplank, carrying trays of food, chairs, musical instruments and flowers. Magnus was reminded, oddly, of the coral reefs he’d grown up around, with shoals of fish swarming over the reef.

In the end, getting onto the ship turned out to be surprisingly easy. There were so many people rushing to get everything done before the ship sailed that Magnus simply blended in with the confusion and slipped aboard. He followed the directions Isabelle had given him and headed below deck, into the ship’s hold.

It was quite nice down there, among the wooden beams of the ship, with light filtering in through the slats of the planks above him. Isabelle had promised she would come and tell him just before the ceremony began, so all he had to do was wait.

Magnus found a comfortable spot amongst the ship’s cargo, where he was well-hidden from anyone who might come down unexpectedly. He pressed his back against the hull of the ship, feeling it rock gently. It was peaceful, soothing, and eased some of the tension in his body. He settled down to wait, hoping he wouldn’t be discovered.

He was woken, some hours later, by someone calling his name. Rocked by the motion of the waves, he’d fallen asleep, slumped against the ship's hull.

“Magnus!” Isabelle called again, and Magnus got to his feet, stumbling for a moment with the movement of the ship. Isabelle was at the entrance to the hold, evidently having come down to look for him. She had changed into a dark red dress for the wedding, her hair intricately threaded with pearls.

The wedding. The thought sent another stab of fear through Magnus. This was his last— his very last— chance. It was getting close to sunset. If Alec turned him away again, it was all over. He had nothing to lose.

Magnus held out his hand and let Isabelle lead him up the stairs, into the tiny corridor that led out onto the main deck. The door at the end of the corridor had a wooden grille set into it to let in light, and Magnus moved closer to it and peeked through.

The main deck of the ship had been set up with rows of chairs, most of them already occupied by wedding guests. The space had been decorated with white banners draped from the rails and flowers wreathed around the mast.

“The wedding’s starting in a few minutes.” Isabelle whispered to him. “Wait here until Alec and Lydia are both at the altar, then come out.”

Magnus nodded to show he understood, and Isabell gave him a quick hug before slipping out the door to take her place at the front of the deck.

Magns waited, heart pounding and palms sweaty. He heard music begin, from the quartet of musicians in the stern of the ship, and then the guests were taking their seats and a priest in a white robe was opening his book at the front of the deck. Then Magnus's heart skipped a beat, because Alec was there, taking his place in front of the priest. Magnus drank him in, dressed in a white military suit and looking every inch the prince of Magnus’s dreams. Alec looked beautiful, but caged, like a cornered animal searching for an escape route. His eyes kept darting around, like he was looking for something— or someone. Magnus’s heart lifted, hope buoying him up like a wave.

Lydia appeared, beautiful in a shimmering pale gold dress, and swept up the aisle to join Alec. He took her hand, with only the slightest tremble of his own, and the priest cleared his throat. The music died away, and the guests leaned forward expectantly.

Magnus took a deep breath, steeling himself with every scrap of courage he had left. He pushed open the door and stepped out onto the deck.

There was a split second when no one noticed him. Then Alec’s head snapped up, staring at Magnus with a look of absolute shock on his face. Magnus could literally see the blood rush to his cheeks in a blush, the way his eyes widened. Magnus was dimly aware of the guests murmuring and exclaiming, Jace putting a hand on Alec’s shoulder, Isabelle’s fingers twisting nervously as she watched. But he saw all of them in periphery only, his focus never leaving Alec. He was staring at Magnus, face frozen, unblinking.

Come here to me, Magnus thought, trying to somehow reach Alec’s mind through the turmoil of the moment.

Come on. I know you feel what I feel.

You can be happy. We can be happy.

Lydia dropped Alec’s hands and leaned in to speak to him, but Magnus was too far away to hear what they said. She cupped the back of his neck, smiling at him reassuringly, and Magnus’s stomach twisted with uncertainty.

Alec turned to face him, his expression unreadable. They were separated by nothing more than a dozen metres of wooden planking, and yet Magnus couldn't bring himself to take a single step.

He didn’t have to. Alec was moving towards him, every step firm and sure. The Queen, his mother, rose to speak to him, but he pushed past her and kept going. And then he was reaching out to Magnus and catching the front of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss, and Magnus’s world shattered into a thousand bright beautiful pieces. He gasped into the kiss, his first kiss, unlike anything he’d ever imagined. Alec’s mouth was sure and strong and so warm, kissing Magnus with an earth-shattering intensity. Magnus’s legs felt weak all over again, and he clutched at Alec’s shoulders in an ecstasy of love and gratitude and relief. He kissed Alec back for all he was worth, his heart singing.

Finally, Alec broke away from him with a gasp. He looked dazed, hands still clutching Magnus’s shirtfront, soft pink lips— Magnus now knew how soft— parted.

“Magnus.” he breathed.

Tears filled Magnus’s eyes, and this time he didn’t try to hide them. “Alec.” he whispered, voice cracking.

Alec’s eyes widened. “You can talk again.” His eyes darted around, like he was only just becoming aware of the dozens of people staring at them. Magnus glanced around. It was eerily silent. Isabelle and Jace were grinning widely, Lydia smiling. Everyone else seemed to be in a state of shock.

“What did I just do?” Alec murmured, glancing around.

Magnus cupped the back of his neck, caressing gently. ‘You saved my life.”

“Unfortunately,” said a voice behind him, “he wasn’t quite quick enough.”

Magnus’s stomach dropped as he realised the wedding guests' looks of horror weren’t only because they’d seen him and Alec kissing. They’d also been staring at something behind them.

“Hello, Magnus dear.” Lilith said. “How lovely to see you again. And is this you prince? How sweet.”

Magnus turned slowly, his stomach sinking. Lilith had curled herself along the foredeck, like the carved mermaids that adorned the front of some ships. She must have hauled herself up out of the sea while Magnus had been distracted by the kiss. Her eyes were full of a terrible, vengeful glee.

“Who are you?” Alec demanded. Without seeming to realise it, he’d put himself between Lilith and Magnus, shielding him with his body.

There were murmurs and small cries of shock from the assembled guests as Lilith smiled down at Alec. “Ask Magnus.” she purred. “Ask your brave little merman.”

Magnus suddenly gasped and fell to his knees, his throat burning. A scalding pain shot through him and he cried out, hands clawing at the deck.

“Magnus!” Alec’s horrified cry cut through the pain as he rushed to Magnus’s side. An arm slid behind his shoulders, steadying him, and Alec eased him into a sitting position. His eyes were wide, terrified. “Magnus, what’s happening?”

“I made a deal.” Magnus gasped out. “I bargained with her…legs in exchange for my voice…” Another wave of agony washed over him and he slumped against Alec, dizzy with pain.

Alec’s head whipped round to stare at Lilith. “Whatever you’re doing to him,” he hissed, “stop it.” Jace and Isabelle were at his side now, the three of them forming a barrier to shield Magnus.

“I’m not doing anything.” Lilith said silkily. “Magnus did this to himself.” She pointed to the horizon, and Magnus’s heart sank as he saw that the sun had disappeared fully beneath the horizon.

“Too late.” Lilith said, with fake sympathy. “Didn’t I tell you, Magnus, you only had five days?” She laughed openly at Alec’s expression of horror. “You were too slow, little prince. If you’d made your mind up only a few seconds sooner, Magnus would have been fine.”

Alec turned white. “No.” he whispered. He clutched Magnus’s hands, and Magnus could feel him shaking. “No, please — Magnus, I’m so sorry — I didn’t know— please be alright—”

Magnus wanted to say something to comfort him, but another rush of pain had him nearly screaming. His vision blurred as he slipped out of Alec’s arms, writhing against the deck. Was he turning into seafoam? He could barely see, all his nerve endings burning.

Everything was hazy and confused. Alec was bending over him, trying to soothe him, his tears falling onto Magnus’s face. “Magnus, please don’t go, I’m so sorry— I only just found you, don’t leave me, please—” He pulled Magnus into his arms again, cradling him, rocking them back and forth. “Tell me what I can do. Tell me how I can fix this.”

“Marry me.” Magnus choked out, lips pressed to Alec’s ear. “Marry me right now.” He didn’t know where the words had come from, but an instinct deeper than the sea rose up inside him, telling him that this was somehow what he needed.

“Okay.” Alec whispered. He lifted his head, calling out to someone. Then the priest who had been officiating appeared at their side, looking rather ruffled. “Your Highness, this is extremely irregular-”

“Just do it.” Alec hissed. He propped Magnus up against his chest, holding him while the priest read from his book. Magnus’s head swam and he only caught a few words— do you take…your lawfully wedded husband… He managed to gasp out “Yes” at what he thought was the right time and felt Alec’s arms tighten around him. He heard the priest ask Alec the same question, heard him answer. Then Alec was holding his hand and sliding a ring— his ring, the one that had started everything— onto his fourth finger.

“I love you.” he breathed into Magnus’s ear. Magnus tried to say it back. He listed sideways, now barely able to see, the pain rising. Tiny lights were blinking out inside his head. He tried to say Alec’s name but his voice faltered and cracked. He thought he could feel his flesh dissolving, becoming foam on the waves.

The last thing Magnus heard, before the darkness took him, was Alec pleading with him, his voice breaking. “Magnus, no, please don’t go, I can’t lose you, stay with me, stay with me —

Magnus woke on a bed of soft silk cushions, to the sound of gently lapping waves. He peeled his eyes open, the lids feeling sticky and sore. There was a silk canopy above him, shielding him from the sun, and when he turned his head he realised that he was on the marble deck at the back of the palace.

“Magnus,” said a familiar voice, and then Alec was kneeling down in front of him, his face a mix of relief and concern. “How are you feeling?”

It was so similar to how they’d first met that an involuntary smile touched Magnus’s lips. “I thought I died.”

There were tears in Alec’s eyes. “So did I. You went limp in my arms….It was the most frightened I’ve ever been.”

“Then how—” Magnus tried to sit up, and that was when he realised that his legs, still a novelty to him, weren't quite working properly.

Because they were gone. His legs were gone, and his tail had returned. Magnus stared down at himself in shock. Numbly, he touched the side of his neck, and found that his gills had returned. He was a mer again.

His voice sounded weak and thin to his own ears. ‘I don’t understand.”

“Allow me to explain.” said another familiar voice, and Magnus nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Hello, Father,” he said weakly.

Asmodeus, who had apparently just surfaced from the water, raised a sarcastic eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you even acknowledge me as your father, after that stunt you pulled with Lilith. She told me everything— came right into the palace and just told the whole story. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was almost pleased with how things have turned out.”

Alec’s hand came to rest protectively on Magnus’s back. “Um, Magnus, who is this?”

Asmodeus glared at him. “I’m your father-in-law, boy. Show some respect.”

“Oh.” Alec said. He glanced between them, appearing to make the connection. “It’s very nice to meet you, uh, sir.”

Asmodeus rolled his eyes, then resumed glaring at Magnus. “As for your query, Magnus, I can explain why you’re not dead. In all probability, you should have died—”

“Thank you, Father.” Magnus muttered.

“—but for an unexpected magical loophole.” Asmodeus continued. “Something neither Lilith or I could have predicted, for all that we know about magic.” He steepled his hands, looking between the two of them. “You two got married. It was a rush job, and I doubt the wisdom of your decision—”

“Father, please.” Magnus said wearily.

“But nonetheless, you were married.” Asmodeus went on. “Your souls were bound together.” He gave Alec a disdainful look. “By tying yourself to this…. human, you were protected from the curse which Lilith laid upon you. The magic couldn’t work.”

Magnus felt an enormous lifting of hope in his chest. “Truly? I’m not going to die?”

“It would seem not.” Asmodeus said. He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re free, Magnus. Free to stay with this land-dweller, if that’s what you want. I would call it inadvisable, but you never did listen to me.”

It was the closest thing he would ever get to a blessing from his father. Magnus nodded, his face breaking into a smile. “Thank you, Father.”

“Yes, well.” Asmodeus sniffed. “If it all goes horribly wrong, don’t come complaining to me.” With that, he dove underwater and was gone.

There was a few seconds of awkward silence, then Alec cleared his throat. “Your father seems— nice.”

Magnus snorted. “You don’t have to lie to me, Alec.” He looked over at him, and caught Alec’s smile. Then, unexpectedly, they were both laughing, the sort of laughter that only comes from a huge release of tension. Magnus went to crawl closer to Alec, then remembered his tail. The laughter died on his lips.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asked, instantly concerned.

Magnus looked down at his tail, feeling sorrow well up in him. All that effort, and he was back where he started: a merman. Not human like Alec was.

“Magnus.” Alec said softly. He turned Magnus’s face up to look into his eyes. “Are you worried because you’re a merman again? Do you think I don’t love you?”

Magnus dropped his eyes. “You said yourself you were going to be king,” he mumbled. “How are your subjects going to react if you’re married to a mer? I mean, I’m half fish. There are probably a few people who wouldn’t like that.”

“I’m not going to be the king anymore.” Alec said, and Magnus’s head snapped up. “My parents and I had a long talk while I was waiting for you to wake up.” He winced, and Magnus suspected that this conversation had not been entirely pleasant.

“They’re not happy, exactly,” Alec went on, “but there’s not a lot they could do. We did get legally married.” He took Magnus’s hand, thumb brushing the ring on his finger, and Magnus smiled.

“Anyway,” Alec said, “I’m officially abdicating. Isabelle’s going to be the queen one day instead. It’s what she’s always wanted, and she’ll be a lot better than me at it. And Lydia’s gone back to her kingdom with her parents. She told me she’s not getting married until she’s the queen, so she can change the law and marry who she likes.” He smiled. “I hope it works out for her.”

“What did she say to you at the wedding?” Magnus asked. “I was too far away to hear.”

Alec’s smile became fonder. “She told me that it was okay. That she’d seen how I looked at you. That I was allowed to be happy.” He took Magnus’s hand in both of his and kissed it, and Magnus’s heart melted.

“So…?” he began, hardly daring to hope.

“So I’m free.” Alec said. “I’m free to do what I want. And I want you.” His cheeks flushed as he realised how he’d phrased the last statement, but us eyes never left Magnus’s.

Not scared anymore, Magnus thought. He clasped Alec’s hands, pressing them against his chest and feeling the warmth flow through him. “I want you too.” he breathed. “Now, today and forever. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you, my Alec.”

Alec’s face lit up. He leaned in, tentatively, and Magnus met him in the middle. He didn’t know how it was possible, but their second kiss was even better than the first, quieter and gentler and comforting. Magnus broke the kiss and slid his mouth from Alec’s lips to his cheek, then his ear.

“Can you take me into the water?” he whispered, and Alec wasted no time in lifting Magnus up again, just as he had when they met on the beach. He carried Magnus down the marble steps and into the ocean, and joined him without having to be asked. His wet shirt stuck to his chest as he swam towards Magnus and wrapped his arms around him again, settling comfortably into his embrace.

They held each other in the water, soft ripples around them from the movement of Magnus’s tail. One of Alec’s hands was at the small of his back, the other wrapped around his shoulders. Magnus had never felt so safe, or so loved.

“I can’t believe we got married.” he whispered, stroking Alec’s hair. “You saved me.”

Alec kissed the juncture of his neck, making Magnus’s chest feel fluttery. “You saved me first. I can’t believe how brave you are, my treasure." His eyes were wet, and looking at him made Magnus’s heart feel so full he could hardly stand it.

Magnus kissed him again, and Alec gave a little groan against his mouth. Their first kiss had been desperate and brimming with emotion, their second sweet and comforting. This was neither. It was hot and wet, and salty from the sea, and Magnus opened his mouth wider, trying to drink Alec in, revelling in this new way of kissing.

Alec gave a low gasp, burying his face in Magnus’s neck. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

“In a minute.” Magnus murmured. “Just want to stay here with you for a bit.”

Still holding Alec, he swam them out a little further, out to where the coral reefs glittered underwater like jewels. He turned them in a slow circle and Alec leaned against him, solid and warm and real, everything Magnus had ever dreamed of. They drifted together, two small figures wrapped up in each other, in a love as vast and deep as the sea that surrounded them.

#malec #alec lightwood #magnus bane #tsc #shadowhunters #cassandra clare #magnus lightwood bane #alec lightwood bane #the shadowhunter chronicles #malec fanfic #malec fanfiction #animalec fest 2023 #isabelle lightwood vibes #jace herondale #tsc fanfiction #merfolk #man this chapter was a struggle to write

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