#props to chief herself for giving me info on the pirates to help me write this

[emeraldtawny]

Siren/Pirate!AU MC, Oliver & Loki - Secrets In The Fog

Guys....before you continue down this rabbit-hole, the original AU is by the absolutely amazing @chiefofpigs so you should definitely read her relationship chart and how this story begins !

SO! Once again, I am incapable of keeping a story brief but this AU literally breathes life into my veins and as soon as I saw Loki’s inclusion into this AU, I knew I had to include him so here we are I seem to love including Oliver as minor roles in my stories recently....huh  ANYWHO! Here is my first fic of 2019, and it’s using an amazing writer’s AU so all the better~! ;3

~

Another quiet night.

The thought passes through her head as the young woman moves through the tavern she works at with ease, her presence both soothing and uplifting to the patrons around her. The regulars know very well of the bubbly yet soft-spoken tavern waitress; how the curl of her lips as she offers you a drink is truly genuine, or how she will always ask you about your day, not from obligation but from interest. Newcomers or travellers passing by for a quick drink enjoy the change of pace, appreciating the somewhat rare expression of such sincerity in these trying times.

She hums to herself as she works, the loose waves of hair framing her face that are too stubborn to be tied back flowing freely with her seemingly effortless movements. The song she hums is a familiar one to her, one that holds a place deep within her heart and always reminds her of the beautiful, dulcet tones of the voice who she first heard the captivating song from.

“Excuse us, miss. Another round of beer for the table, if you would.”

“Coming right up, sir!”

She never notices the spring in her step whenever she thinks of him, her mind too enraptured to fully grasp how much he has a hold on her - a hold that she would gladly stay in, whether circumstantially forced to or not.

She glides to the bar over to where her boss is idly cleaning the glassware. The man, Oliver, hardly spares a glance at her, but this is in no way cold or dismissive. He grabs a few glasses and tops them with tapped beer, the foam falling smoothly over the precipice of each of the glass’ rims. He places them on a tray and slides it to her, the exchange between boss and employee complete. She simply smiles and nods, taking the tray in one hand before turning around to head towards the required table. She sets the tray of golden beer down on the table.

“Here you are. I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“Thanks, dear.”

With a smile, she grabs the now unoccupied tray and moves to head back to the bar - she doesn’t make it very far.

“Oi, sweetheart. Come back here for a sec. I’ve got a question for ya.”

Despite the man’s gruff authoritative voice, she remains smiling as she turns back to face the man calling upon her, “Can I help you, sir?”

The man grunts, his expression as he assesses her the epitome of untrusting. “I’ve heard rumours ‘bout you ‘round here, love. People say you’re a nice young lass, always kind and helpful regardless of the folk passin’ through.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed by his remarks, she politely bows, “Thank you, sir. It’s very nice to know that-”

“Hold up, I ain’t finished yet.”

She uprights herself, meeting the man’s gaze swirling with seething contempt. “People say that, but that’s just because they don’t know what you really are.”

The calm merriment in the tavern is as good as dead, everyone’s attention focused on the conversation unfolding. Oliver keeps a steely eye on everyone, his movements tense as if ready to act if necessary.

The young woman’s gaze shifts to confusion. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I’ve seen you hangin’ round the ports at night, thinkin’ you’re all alone so no one can see you emerge into yer true form, you sea witch.”

Her delicate eyebrows furrow at his words, “Sea witch? You compare me to something of myth?”

“It ain’t myth, sweetheart, so stop playing dumb! No sane girl would hang around the sea at night unless they wanted pirates to abduct them, sirens to suck the life outta them or….you were wantin’ to go home to the ocean you belong in.”

His voice grows colder as realisation dawns on him, the scraping of his wooden chair against the floorboards grating patrons’ ears as he stands, looming over her significantly smaller stature. He laughs mirthlessly, “That’s it, ain’t it? You’re just a fish outta water tryna go back. So why don’t you?! Go back home to the cold depths where you belong, you wretched sea hag!”

A lifeless metallic clink echoes in the still air. The man turns, any expression of anger he was ready to let out forced back by the sight of a barrel of a gun pointed directly at him.

“I think you’ve made your point. Now it’s time for me to make mine-” Oliver’s hand on the pistol is steady, his finger resting on the trigger, “-Get the hell out of my tavern. One more targeted remark from you at my staff and I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

The man’s hulking frame shakes in fear. He grabs a bag of coins from his pocket, carelessly tossing on the table before dashing out of the tavern. Everyone seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief, the atmosphere calming once again.

Oliver returns his pistol to its place under the counter and motions to his waitress to come to him. She swallows and walks slowly to the bar, the nerves built up in her throat from the tense accusations still yet to have dissipated. She meets Oliver’s eyes, their colour similar to the pistol he was just wielding, an involuntary shiver running through her.

“You alright?”

What is meant to be a “Yes” instead emerges from her lips as a strangled “Mm” noise, her throat still constricted. She nods to affirm her point and Oliver sighs.

“Is what he was saying true? Have you been going out to the harbour at night again?”

Her eyes break away from his own to stare at the freshly polished counter, her hands tightening in the fabric of her dress. Oliver keeps his gaze steady on her face, looking for the telling flicker in her eyes of her easily readable honesty. He says nothing, waiting uncharacteristically patiently for her to respond. After a minute, he turns back to polishing the glassware, his deep voice cutting through her thoughts.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I’m your boss, not your guardian. But just be careful, okay?” She nods with an affirmative sound and Oliver sighs again, more from relief than exasperation, “Take the rest of the night off, go clear your head. Be back before the fog sets in. I’ll be waiting.”

She blinks, unsure if what she just heard were her boss’ words. A smile breaks across her face, the thought that she has someone who cares for her putting her mind at ease. She dashes back to her room on the second floor, undoing her apron all the while. Removing the ribbon from her hair with a simple tug, her natural waves succumb to gravity and flow down her back. After a quick check in the mirror, she’s dashing down the stairs and outside, her hair tickling her exposed shoulders.

The lanterns light the linear path to the harbour, her light steps still causing the aged floorboards to creak underneath her as she walks. She breathes in the cool, salty breeze that she adores, her chaotic thoughts like the crashing waves instantly soothed to nothing more than a gentle ripple. She reaches the end of the dock, admiring the few ships anchored down as she walks without a destination. Reaching the edge of the wooden walkway, she closes her eyes and begins to sing, her voice resonating out to the vast nothingness of the ocean. She smiles as she sings, feeling accomplished at how much she has improved since when she first learned the foreign lyrics. She knows that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she should be inside in her room, but she feels beckoned to the harbour, to the deep ocean before her so close yet still so far away.

(I want to see you.)

Through her closed eyelids, she doesn’t notice the fog slowly creeping in and swirling ominously around her legs, nor does she notice the almost silent footsteps over her singing. She lets out a breath of satisfaction and solace, reopening her eyes to those of ruby and amber, seeming to shine without light. She stiffens and jumps back, her foot slipping on the edge of the walkway.

“Ah-!”

She squeezes her eyes shut, yet she feels no chill from the seawater running through her spine, nor the wetness on her skin. She opens her eyes again to mismatched hues, the man’s arms around her waist and a few feet from where she almost fell.

“My, that was awfully close. Do be careful out at night. Who knows what would have happened if you fell into the ocean.”

“U-um, yes. Thank you.”

His arms release her and she takes a precautionary step backwards. He smiles, an odd combination of innocence and mystery that has her curious. Before she can even ask, he speaks.

“You should head back home before the fog sets in. Wouldn’t want Oliver to condemn your actions, now would we?”

“Wait...how do you--?”

He chuckles, thoroughly amused by her shock, “You need not know anything about me, except that I am better than most at knowing what goes on around here. I have nothing better to do, you see,” His grin somehow widens, taking on a more knowing, fiercer edge, “For example, I know you come out here most nights to sing to the sea. And that you’re not always alone.”

She stiffens, opening her mouth to retort but is quickly silenced by his hand, the force applied enough to keep her quiet but nothing to cause harm. “Don’t try to lie to me, my dear. I’ve seen him. Or, I guess it’s more accurate to say that I’ve seen them both.”

She gasps, his hand stifling the sound. He continues, “Seems that man calling you a sea witch wasn’t too outlandish. If you’re conversing with the creatures meant to suck the souls from humans and are still living, then maybe you have something special about you,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he watches the quickly growing distress in her eyes, “You can even sing the siren’s song and feel no bewitchment...although, I guess your pirate friend can’t say the same.”

(What? What is he saying? What does he mean? How does he know all of this?!)

Her thoughts spiral, no answers and only questions. She breaks free of his grasp, ready to run until-

“A shame you haven’t seen your pirate friend in a few weeks. And I was going to tell you when he was next coming back to town.”

She freezes almost subconsciously, her feet still while her brain screams at her to run. She should know better, she should be back at the tavern by now, unconcerned with the man before her. So why isn’t she moving?

The fog settles deeper around the docks, creeping slowly around them, its presence near suffocating and threatening to leave the lantern lights redundant. She looks over her shoulder, meeting the man’s gleaming gaze.

(I...want to see him too.)

“What do you know?”

The man grins wide, his trap in place. “He’s a pirate on a ship called The Heart Breaker. New recruit, yet he has his sea legs. They like this town for its neutrality and good trading posts. I happen to have intel that The Heart Breaker will be back in port on the next full moon.”

Eyes wide, she racks her brain for the next time that will be. “That’s in….four days.”

“It is indeed. Is that all you wanted to know?”

She nods, “Yes, thank you. I won’t ask how you know this, but you have my gratitude.”

He chuckles, herself unsure if it’s the presence of the fog making him appear more sinister. “ You didn’t actually think I would just tell you what you wanted without an exchange, did you?”

She swallows hard, chills running through her spine. “I--I have nothing of value. I swear, please.”

He steps towards her, the fog seemingly parting for him. Her feet feel as heavy as lead, unable to run as he drifts within arm’s reach of her.

“I’m not asking for much. And what I want is something only you can get me,” He leans in, whispering into her ear, “I need you to get me one of your siren friend’s scales.”

“What?”

She baulks, in disbelief of his request.

“I want a siren scale,” He reiterates, “The rumours of their opalescent scales holding a myriad of colours intrigues me. Get me one of your friend’s scales and I’ll consider your debt paid.”

“But, I--”

“Haven’t seen him? Maybe not, but I know he’s emerged from the surface for you and that he’s been close enough to you to touch.”

She falls silent, her eyes transfixed on his own. He grins, stepping back from her but never once letting his gaze waver.

“You’re a pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Maybe you can beguile the beguiler.”

The last thing she sees are his eyes, blood and gold, staring at her until the fog inhibits her vision. She rushes forward hoping to catch him, but as she emerges from the fog, he’s nowhere to be seen. She frowns, looking around near frantically for him. She sighs silently, resigning herself to simply walk back to the tavern, ready for Oliver to rip into her.

As she walks back with the last of the sun setting behind her, the man who she was searching for emerges from the fog, watching her return to town with a wry smile gracing his lips.

“With her voice, she enchants; with her beauty, she deprives of reason - voice and sight alike deal destruction and death.” He chuckles under his breath as the fog engulfs him, his eyes glinting with the small shred of lantern light penetrating the deep fog, “A siren uses its voice and a pirate uses its sword, but all bring destruction and death regardless.”

#ikerev #ikerev siren/pirate au #loki genetta #oliver knight #I love chief and her AUs so much! #pls read the originals #props to chief herself for giving me info on the pirates to help me write this