For the mermay prompts
Pairing: Eskel/Jaskier
Word: insecurity
Thank you for your prompt dear!! And CLEARLY it is still Mer-May. Mer-maybe-time-to-post. This little darling grew bigger than I planned, and thus promptly took a break under the waves until it was ready to see the splendid light of day. Ish 7300 words, big bad monsters under water and shipwrecks ahoy! On Ao3 here
Mer sing. Mer are beautiful. Mer are deadly.
Eskel is none of that. Alright, he is deadly, and he has the scars to prove it. But song never came naturally to him, and beautiful he certainly is not.
Not only does he have scars that cover the right side of his face, but he is too big, too scary. He knows, and has been told repeatedly.
Eskel is never included in the hunting party. Not included in much of anything, really.
He is often sent to patrol their borders on his own, something he gladly does, something that he is good at.
It doesn’t involve much killing, other than when something dangerous emerges from the depths. It only gives him more scars, but he prides himself at being able to keep his family safe. Well. The pod where he resides.
They haven’t felt much like family since he lost his daughter.
It wasn’t humans who took her, after all. Fights between pods are rare but vicious, and what remained became a part of the other pod when they accepted their new leader.
It’s been years, and despite not knowing exactly who bears responsibility, Eskel has never forgiven them. He fights to keep his brothers in arms safe, and his mentor.
But despite it all, humans remain the biggest threat to their kind. Another failing of his, because Eskel can’t bring himself to kill them.
~
Shipwrecks are nothing new, but Eskel has never been close to one before.
The storm is raging, tearing the ship apart, and soon pieces of debris crash together in the churning sea, bodies mixed littered amongst the wreck.
He knows he shouldn’t, but Eskel goes there. He swims close to the surface, dodging a heavy barrel. Most of the bodies he sees are broken, already lost to the great beyond.
There is one, however, who is not. Eskel senses it more than he sees it, drawn to the man slowly drowning in a mass of bubbles, and reaches for him.
They are on the outskirts of the wreck, the storm pressing the debris further away, and so Eskel dares to hover, just for a moment.
The man is everything he is not.
Slender, pale, beautiful. His lashes are long, his lips open and stained blue with lack of breath. Eskel hesitates but a moment before he cradles him to his chest, holding him against his body as if he were a child.
His size is finally in his favor as Eskel pushes hard to reach the surface.
It might already be too late, he has seen the faces of the drowned, but something tells Eskel to keep pushing.
When they breach the surface, the waves are high and violent, attempting to pull them under again. Above water, the body in his arms seems heavier, but Eskel is strong.
With a stroke of luck, he finds part of the hull floating a bit further away, and Eskel aims towards it.
Once the human is stowed on the hull, Eskel grabs hold of it and steers it towards land. The man on the makeshift raft doesn’t move as the vicious waves attempt to pull him back down into the depths.
It doesn’t take Eskel long to figure out why their ship went under.
The lighthouse set on the cliffs is dark, quiet. He has seen humans prey on their own kind, leaving nature to do the dirty work and then scavenge what is left.
Eskel should not be this close, should not risk his neck for a human. But if he doesn’t, who will? Certainly not his kinsmen.
Eskel realizes his mistake when the wave lifts him and the raft both, hurling them towards the cliffs. If it can break ships apart, it most definitely will break bones.
Instinct makes Eskel wrap himself around the fragile human body, shielding it from the impact with his own.
A stroke of luck sends him tail and back first, his head somehow spared, but he can feel his ribs snap, feel the tear of his fins. The pain is nearly blinding, and when the wave pulls back, he makes another realization.
He is stuck.
The cliff they were thrown against doesn’t easily let him roll back into the sea, and he is unable to climb. As long as the sea rages, he is stuck, and the human with him.
The body in his arms suddenly convulses, water pouring from his now open lips. Coughing, gasping for air, fingers clenching and unclenching as his body expels the water.
Another wave hits them viciously, slamming them back against the cliff wall. The pressure is hell on his ribs, but Eskel makes sure to twist again to keep the human away from the worst of it.
When the water retreats, Eskel spots a gap in the stone, just big enough to shield them from the onslaught of the water. There is water pooling in the cliff, allowing him some ease of movement as he drags them towards their shelter, and another wave more or less shoves them inside.
In the relative safety of the cliff’s crevice, Eskel inspects the human in his arms. He props himself up enough to sit and lean back against the rock, grimacing when his ribs give a stab of pain.
The human is unconscious, but seems to be breathing at least, strained as it may be.
Eskel pats his back, thinking the thumping might help him to cough up more water. It’s not the first human he has saved, but it is the first he has ever held this close for so long.
The thumping seems to help, and the man starts coughing violently, hacking and wheezing for a long, terrible minute, but it seems to help.
He breathes easier after. Eskel still has the human propped up against his chest, and takes the opportunity to look for injuries. There is a gash next to a suspicious bruise at his temple, and a lot of scrapes that look older than the ship wreck.
Humans really can’t help but prey on anyone they see, huh? Eskel tips up the human’s face, inspecting it closer. His lower lip is swollen, and there is a cut that has reopened.
Eskel touches it, frowning.
His back and ribs ache still, and the rocks are digging into his tail. Waves keep pushing water into their little sanctuary, dislodging his torn fin and sending a jolt of pain up his spine. Fuck, he really is stuck.
Leaning his head back, Eskel settles in to wait. He fits the human better against him, so they both can rest as comfortably as possible.
Hopefully he won’t be stabbed when the human wakes up. That would be a fitting end, though, wouldn’t it?
Another wave explodes against the rockside, and with a sigh, Eskel lets himself drift off to sleep.
~
The storm rages well into the morning.
Eskel keeps waking up to something moving against him. Someone, he corrects himself every time. Despite the weather, the human is warm, and it seeps into Eskel’s skin, calming him in a way he hasn't felt for years.
Another heartbeat next to his own, someone’s chest rising and falling against his, a comfortable weight in his arms.
It’s nice to pretend that someone trusts him enough for this, though it’s selfish of him to leech off the human’s warmth to assuage his own stupid loneliness.
The wind has calmed, and the sea with it, but the sky remains heavy and grey. While considering if it would be safe to leave the human here and try to get back, the human stirs.
A deep breath, heartbeat speeding up, fluttering eyelashes.
Fuck, and Eskel is still holding him, shit!
It won’t do to just shove him off now, so Eskel stays as still as he can, looking out of the cave rather than the man coming to.
The man’s hand flattens against his side, just over his aching ribs, and it takes everything in him not to snarl for the pain. The man sits up just enough to notice exactly where he is sitting, and when Eskel looks at him, the man’s eyes widen comically large.
“Whoa, holy fucking shit balls!” the human swears hoarsely, throwing himself backwards and falling down on the ground with an oof.
“I’m alive?! You’re a- I’m-?!” The human looks around their little shelter, his eyes so very blue, Eskel notices. He decides to give the human time to get his bearings, and so far no stabbing has occurred, so that’s good.
“Where-? My lute, where is my lute?!” The human frantically looks around himself, patting the ground as if the instrument were merely hiding.
“Only saved you,” Eskel rasps out, his hand going to cover his side. Now that there is no weight against him, his body is adjusting, and it aches.
“You talk… You saved me?!”
Eskel gives a nod in agreement, and the human tilts his head.
“Are you hurt? What happened? I was in the holding cell and then-” The man frowns, thinking hard but seems to come up short.
“Shipwreck,” Eskel informs him. “Got you above water. Storm put us on the cliffs.”
“Am I- uh. Are you a mermaid? Or a Siren?” The human looks a little nervous, but not scared, which is… odd.
“Mer. Distantly related to Sirens.” ‘But I’m not like them,’ he thinks. Not pretty enough. Not clever enough, or bloodthirsty. Not… enough.
“Do you have a name? I mean, what may I call you? Shit, are you like Fae, where names are secret or something? Forget I asked, that is so rude of me, are Fae even real? There was this lady once who claimed-”
“Eskel. You may call me Eskel,” Eskel interrupts his rambling with a smile, before the human can talk himself into a ramble.
“Eskel,” the human breathes, then seems to get his bearings back. “I’m Jaskier. It’s a flower, back home…uh.” Jaskier trails off again.
Clearly his way of coping is talking, so Eskel lets him.
It is starting to get real uncomfortable to continue sitting up, though, and since the waves have calmed, he has started to dry out. He feels stiff and sore, and his fin is not looking good.
Looking outside the stone formation, there seems to be a shallow pool of water. Getting there will be very undignified, but what choice does he have.
“Can you climb up to land?” Eskel asks Jaskier, hoping to distract him enough for Eskel to suffer in peace.
Haltingly, Jaskier stands and moves on unsteady legs towards the opening between the rocks.
Thing is, in order to do that he has to step over Eskel, and looking up at him as he does was a mistake, it turns out.
Sun filters in between the cracks, and despite the bruises, Jaskier is beautiful. His hair lights up with a golden hue, his profile outlined with it, his white shirt almost translucent.
Eskel knows his tastes are seen as adventurous, knows that it’s frowned upon to look outside of your pod, but there is nothing for him there.
Jaskier steps over him carefully, minding not to step on his torn fin, supporting himself against the wall over Eskel’s head, and then steps out into the sunlight.
He can hear a gasp from outside, but doesn’t wait for Jaskier to come back to explain. His ribs protest something fierce when he crawls over the stone, feeling uneven edges dig into scales and skin alike.
Outside, Jaskier stands watching the ocean. It is dark blue now, instead of the inky darkness it was last night. Debris is floating around, bobbing along the glittering waves. Gulls and other sea birds are hovering overhead, looking for anything to eat.
Either Jaskier is so captured by the view, or he is giving Eskel privacy, but either way he doesn’t turn until the Mer has settled into the shallow water with a bitten back groan of relief.
“The wall is too steep for me to climb. And, uh… I don’t know how to swim.” Jaskier says, looking embarrassed. “All your hard work gone to waste, eh?” he tries to joke, scratching his neck and finally turning to look at Eskel.
The pool is shallow, but his skin already feels less taut, less painful.
“We’ll find a way. Maybe I can help get you to shore if we manage to get into the water again. Should be calmer now, except for the vultures.”
Eskel is cupping water and pouring it over his face and chest when he catches Jaskier looking. His eyes are big and jaw slack, cheeks turning rosy red.
“What?” Eskel asks, feeling very self conscious and vulnerable. “Is there something on my face?”
There is something on his face. A huge scar, ugly and badly healed, covering most of his cheek and part of his lip. Maybe Jaskier finally noticed the monster that had saved him.
“You are beautiful,” Jaskier breathes, and Eskel frowns. Must be sunstroke, or he did in fact hit his head.
“Excuse me?” he says, giving the man a chance to correct himself, but alas.
“Beautiful. Gods, Eskel, are all Mer like this?” Jaskier walks up and kneels by the little pool, hands reaching out as if he wants to touch and Eskel doesn’t understand.
“I’m… no? I mean we all look like this but I’m… not…” Beautiful, he doesn’t finish, but Jaskier notices it anyways, and gives him a disbelieving look.
Thankfully he lets it go.
“Will you be able to swim? Your fin looks pretty bad.”
It does. It feels bad too, but he won’t be able to do much about it without the right poultice back home.
“It will be fine. It’s not one of my main ones,” Eskel assures him, thinking the human is worried about getting to safety. “When the evening tide comes, the drop from here won’t be as bad, and the currents should help us move away from the rocks.”
“But won’t it hurt you? I don’t want you to be in pain because of me.”
Blinking, Eskel tilts his head, cupping some more water and pouring it over his chest. Jaskier’s eyes are on him, following the movement, his cheeks growing ever redder.
“It will heal. What matters is to get you to safety,” Eskel says slowly, a strange feeling building in his chest. Saying it aloud almost felt like a confession.
The human groans and throws himself on his back, arms hiding his face from the sun and Eskel both. He mutters something that sounds like ‘the end of me’, which Eskel does not like at all.
“I promise, you will be safe,” he says more insistently and Jaskier makes that groaning sound again.
“Perfect. Too perfect.” Jaskier sits up and looks around. “Alright. What can I do? How can I help? Should I look for food?”
Jaskier is unable to be still, and he is on his feet and looking around. The area is not big, but if you are able to do some light climbing, you can move around the cliff sides.
“If you manage not to fall in,” Eskel says with a smile. It comes out as teasing, but he means it. Jaskier stops and looks at him for a long moment, just looks at him, and Eskel feels terribly self conscious again.
“I’ll find something,” Jaskier says finally, turning away, and Eskel is left in peace once more.
This is so unlike anything Eskel has ever experienced. The humans he previously saved either didn’t wake up in time to see him, or fled when they noticed what he was. Only one person before this has talked to him, and none had asked his name, nor looked at him like… that.
The water in his little pool is getting warm from the sun. and he leans back in it. It feels better already, and he lies back to properly soak.
Despite their predicament, it’s peaceful, as it usually is after a storm has passed.
Even if the sounds of shore aren’t really reassuring to him, he dares to close his eyes. If it is too steep for the human to climb up, the same goes for down. And with their distance from the sea, other predators can’t reach them.
For now, this is their safe haven, as much as it is their prison.
The little pool is not big enough for him to stretch out fully, but it feels good to be able to straighten out his back, his arms, and then in turn, his tail.
When his torn fin twinges in pain again, he decides to actually look at it.
It doesn’t appear broken, but the membrane is split in two places, and there is even a part of it missing. He notices two smaller wounds along the side of his tail, where some scales are missing.
Probably where he landed when they were flung against the rock, if he would guess. It doesn’t hurt too bad, but it’s likely going to if he stays in this little pool for too long.
From the rocks where Jaskier disappeared, Eskel hears singing. He bolts upright, heart pounding in his chest. Is his pod here? Is Jaskier going to be lured in? That would be bad for so many reasons.
“Jaskier?” he calls, but not too loudly, worried the presumed siren will hear it too.
The singing stops, and some grunting and huffing later, Jaskier’s head pops around a large rock.
“Something wrong?” Jaskier asks, frowning lightly.
“Are you alright? Did you hear the singing?”
At this, the human looks almost embarrassed, and gives another smile. Always smiling at him, this one, and something clenches in Eskel’s heart.
“You heard that? Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so loud.”
Eskel blinks at him.
“That was you?”
“It was. Ah, maybe I shouldn’t have. You think someone else heard? Are we in trouble? I’m sorry, and singing with a Mer nearby, it probably sounded terrible to you too.” The human rambles and Eskel blinks again, at a loss for words.
The human had sounded… well, like a Mer. He is beautiful, he is slender, and he sings. The only thing Jaskier doesn’t do is swim. Or maim and kill, but that is yet to be determined, he supposes.
“Where are you from?” Eskel asks, and Jaskier climbs closer, hands full of clams and seaweed and what looks like a little crab. How he does not get pinched is beyond Eskel.
“Lettenhove. It’s a coastal town, and I was setting out to visit a friend down south. But uh, turns out people are greedy, and being a lord's son was too tempting, and I was taken as a captive. I think they were going to ask my father for ransom to release me.” Jaskier chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s funny. “They never met my father, or they would have known he would have paid them to take me away. Well.”
He sits down next to Eskel again, legs crossed and puts his finds in front of him. The crab immediately scurries out of his grip and into the little pool.
“By the by, are you going to be alright sitting in direct sunlight all day?” Jaskier asks, which actually, is a very good question.
The sun is closing in on its zenith, and even if he is in the water, Eskel’s skin is not used to the direct sunlight, and it is already stinging a little.
“It will be fine.”
“You keep saying that, but I can clearly see you are hurt.” Jaskier bows his head and fiddles with his fingers. It makes him look young, and Eskel feels a surge of protectiveness.
“I am hurt,” Eskel replies. “But I will heal. It makes our situation a little bit more difficult, but I do not regret saving you, Jaskier.”
“Why did you save me? Don’t sirens- Mer hate humans?” Jaskier asks, and this is something Eskel would prefer not to talk about but they have the time, and something compels him to speak.
“I’m not much like my family,” Eskel admits. “Where they are slender, I am broad. When they sing, I cannot. Where they are beautiful, I am…” Eskel trails off but gestures towards his scarred cheek. “…Less. But I don’t carry their anger with me, and where I can protect, I will.” he finishes.
Jaskier’s eyes are soft, and he shuffles closer to where Eskel sits, reaching for him.
The Mer wants to pull back, but there is nowhere to go, and Jaskier has done nothing to harm him.
Warm fingers touch his cheek, palm fitting against his scars.
“A gentle giant,” Jaskier says warmly. “The world has treated you unjustly, it would seem.”
Something twists in Eskel’s chest. It is uncomfortable, aching, a simple touch his undoing.
“Though you are not so large,” Jaskier backtracks, taking back his hand. Eskel misses it immediately. “You are not that much larger than me. Though I’m not very small either, to be fair. Unless you meant large in other… assets. Which is very improper to say out loud, or even admitting to thinking about it, Melitele’s swelling bosom, Jaskier, shut your mouth!”
Humans are so strange. Eskel watches Jaskier change color, from simply blushing to a deep, embarrassed flush. It would be funny, had Jaskier not revealed thinking about Eskel’s… assets.
The human stands up and starts pacing, his mouth still going, but now about the small puddles of rain water he had found to drink, and if what he brought is even edible for Eskel. The day is slowly getting hotter, and Jaskier has taken to fanning himself with his hand.
The puddle that Eskel resides in is also getting warmer, but it won’t become dangerously so, he decides. His skin is starting to burn, though.
“Jaskier,” Eskel says, and immediately Jaskier’s eyes are on him. “Do you really want to help me?”
“I do.”
“You were right, I think I need shelter from the sun. May I borrow that thing you wear? Over your chest. Your shirt? I don’t think I can get back behind the rocks where we hid before.”
Jaskier starts unbuttoning his shirt even before Eskel finishes, revealing a surprisingly hairy chest. Eskel is not familiar with body hair, he knows there are Mer and Sirens closer to shore and in lakes or rivers who are sprinkled with it, but not his pod.
He finds his eyes lingering, watching Jaskier’s chest, how the hair dips down out of sight into his breeches.
When Jaskier hands over his shirt, their fingers brush. His fingers are warm, the fingertips rough in a way that doesn’t feel like a fighter’s.
Their eyes lock, a moment paused in time, until it fractures, breaks, and Eskel pulls back. The human had put his arms through the… tubes…? Sleeves? Eskel doesn’t dare try it, his arms larger, clumsier, more destructive than Jaskier’s.
He simply wraps the shirt over his shoulders, covering as much of himself as he is able, shielding himself from the sun.
Jaskier moves back, reclining in the shadows of the rock, facing Eskel.
He is not a bad companion, making good and entertaining conversation. It isn’t long until Jaskier’s eyes droop though, the heat and the wreckage finally taking its toll.
His head leans against his shoulder, arms wrapped around himself in sleep.
Eskel watches him sleep.
He should not. There is nothing to gain here but pain. Land dwellers and sea dwellers don’t tread the same path. Watching Jaskier, however, makes him wish there was a way.
“Jaskier. Wake up,” Eskel calls. The human scrunches his nose and smacks his lips, wriggling until Eskel calls his name again.
“Ugh, my ass hurts like seven hells,” Jaskier complains, stretching out his stiff limbs. Eskel agrees, he is not used to his own weight not being carried by water.
But the time is almost right, the tide has slowly been rising. They should make ready to ride the currents back, to where it is safer to travel from.
Eskel gives the shirt back to Jaskier and mourns the loss of the view only a little. He buttons up with nimble fingers, and Eskel heaves himself out of the pool as he does.
It never gets more dignified to move across land when lacking legs and being the size Eskel is.
He rolls, rather than crawls, towards the edge of the cliff, which luckily isn’t far, his ribs giving him hell for every movement. He doesn’t turn to look if Jaskier is watching him until he has reached the edge, breathing heavily enough for his gills to react too.
When he looks back, Jaskier is approaching him, looking down at the waves nervously.
“I really am useless in the water,” Jaskier reminds him.
“It’s okay, I’ll keep you safe,” Eskel promises, and he finds that he really, truly means it.
Jaskier in turns nods, and sits down with his feet over the edge. It’s more of a slide rather than a free fall, luckily, even if it is steep.
Eskel goes down first, angling himself to keep his already torn fin out of harm's way. He still feels the rocks scrape at his skin, his scales.
There will likely be even more wounds after this, but the important part is to get back into the water.
When he breaks the surface, it’s like the world has righted itself. The water is cool, holding him up and swaying him with the beat of the waves.
Home.
He closes his eyes for a minute and just enjoys it. The world sounds different here. Right. It echoes between the cliffs, muffles the waves’ harsh pounding, filters the sun to a smattering of rays, warming instead of burning his skin.
Eskel realizes he has been under for too long, and swims up and close enough to look back at the cliff.
Jaskier is sitting where he left him, feet dangling over the edge, but looking much more worried.
“Oh good. For a moment there, I thought you had left me…” Jaskier says, giving a strange chuckle.
“Slide down the slope. I’ll catch you when you get down.” Eskel assures him, and Jaskier gives a nod. He is still hesitant, looking down and licking his lips worriedly.
“I will catch you.” Eskel repeats, because he thinks Jaskier needs to hear it.
The human then all but throws himself off the cliff, getting off balance, and tumbles down.
His uncontrolled descent has him slamming into Eskel’s chest, and they immediately sink.
True to his word, Eskel pushes them up, and Jaskier is clinging to him, one arm over his luckily good ribs, the other around his neck, and both legs around his hips.
Eskel in turn is holding on to Jaskier’s sides, to easily adjust his grip if need be.
The human splutters and coughs and leans back enough to look up at Eskel, hair plastered to his forehead and into his eyes.
“Well. That went well. Very graceful.”
It makes Eskel smile, and before he registers what he is doing, he raises one hand to push the hair out of Jaskier’s face. Jaskier blinks, his cheeks coloring prettily. Eskel snatches his hand back, suddenly all too aware of himself.
“Sorry.” He mumbles, turning them enough so that Jaskier is mostly top of him, and Eskels swimming backwards. Both of Jaskier’s hands are now on his shoulders, and with the help of the currents they navigate out of the rocky parts.
When they are out deep enough, Eskel changes course. Out here the risk for collision is less, but being spotted by a predator is a lot higher.
Especially considering Eskel has many small wounds that are bleeding sluggishly. His movements are much easier in the water, less heavy, but with every flick of his tail, his ribs are screaming.
Swimming on his back also leaves them both vulnerable, no matter how nice it feels to have Jaskier close like this.
Looking up was a mistake.
The way they are angled, the sun is behind Jaskier again, giving him a halo of light.
Eskel is suddenly aware of how his hands have drifted from the human’s sides to his thighs, and how Jaskier’s hands have traced to his chest, now that they have slowed down and are just floating.
Jaskier notice him staring, maybe because Eskel’s fingers twitched, resisting to squeeze the firm muscle under his hands. His shirt is once again see through, water making it cling to his form, and Eskel wants to taste the salt of his skin.
“You have no idea, do you? How beautiful you look.” Jaskier says gently, hand splaying over one of the bigger scars on Eskel’s chest.
“I’m not.” Eskel says, breath catching in his throat. Nobody has called him beautiful, not ever.
“Can I do something stupid?” Jaskier asks, and Eskel licks his lips and nods.
Jaskier can do whatever he wants, especially when that means the distance between them is shrinking, and Jaskier tilts his head to place a gentle kiss on Eskel’s lips.
He doesn’t think. He feels like something clicked in place and broke at the same time, and he doesn’t realize they are sinking under the surface until Jaskier splutters and coughs.
“Sorry, sorry sorry, shells, I’m so sorry.” Eskel lets go of one leg to wipe the drops of water on Jaskier’s face, pushing his hair back from his face again.
When he does, Jaskier huffs a laugh, but nuzzles into Eskel’s big hand.
“No, I’m sorry. Did I over step?"
“No.” Eskel says, tongue tied with how this beautiful creature is still smiling at him.
“May I try again?”
Eskel just nods, and Jaskier holds his hand to his cheek when he leans down again. This time, Eskel meets him, allows himself to hold Jaskier close.
“My gentle giant.” Jaskier whispers against his lips, and Eskel makes a deep noise that makes the water vibrate around them.
The moment Eskel lets himself relax, he regrets it.
Sharp talons dig into his back, and he cries out in pain. A screech above them announces a second attacker.
Sirens.
The one above them, she beats her wings to get into position, her tail poised behind her. When she dives at them, Eskel has to make a snap decision.
“Deep breath.”
She dives through the air at them, as Eskel dives beneath the surface. He holds Jaskier securely to him, hoping to everything he had time to take a breath.
He comes face to face with the siren who swiped at his back, her fangs bared and talons tainted with his blood.
He snarls back, cradling Jaskier closer and protecting him against the next attack. He is well aware he can’t stay under for too long, nor go too deep to evade them.
He makes a sharp turn, doesn’t take the time to feel his torn fin protest, just spins out of her reach and dashes past her. He feels the shift of water, knowing the second siren is now under too, so he goes up for air. Jaskier is panting hard, clawing at Eskel to keep his grip.
“What-?” He tries, but Eskel shakes his head.
“Sirens, drawn by the wreck. They always scavenge, or tear apart what survived. We need to dive again.”
“I trust you.” Jaskier pants, and they go under again.
The trust weighs heavy on Eskel, and as he goes under again, he fights to keep memories at bay. Of the last time someone trusted him with their life.
The only way to hide in the open sea is to dive.
The second option is to swim against the current to get back amongst the rocks, but that is the sirens territory.
The third option is to fight.
His body is already gearing up for it, even before he knows the decision is made. His focus sharpens, as does his fingernails.
Mer are not sirens' usual prey, but they were no doubt goaded by the sight and smell of his blood. But even a hurt Mer is a dangerous Mer, maybe even more so.
He knows what he looks like when this happens, and he hopes Jaskier doesn’t notice. The pattern of his scales shifts in color, darkening, and if he were in the depths, he would glow.
Eskel dodges as they charge at him, lashing out when they pass. He tastes their blood in the water, his gills trembling with it.
The siren screeches at him, but launches herself into the air.
The second siren is more skilled. She dodges when Eskel attempts to cut her with his fin, and aims at his already wounded side.
He just barely manages to spin out of her reach, flicking his tail and hitting her in the head as he passes.
He notices a week tapping at his chest, and dread fills him.
Up, air, Jaskier needs to breathe.
The second siren is up there though, and the moment she spots them, she plunges in again, so close she almost hits them. Jaskier is gasping for air, breathing for all that he’s worth.
“I’m so sorry.” Eskel says, holding the human securely above the now agitated water.
“You’re bleeding.” Jaskier pants out, and Eskel clenches his jaw.
“So are they. We need to get out of here, or worse will come.”
Jaskier nods and tucks closer to Eskel again, which is good, because clawed hands drag them down, puncturing skin.
One of the sirens makes the mistake to come close, and Eskel manages to grab hold of her, and he bites her shoulder, hard.
Her blood is thick and disgusting in his mouth, and he quickly rinses it out when she tears herself free.
The smell of their battle is everywhere, of siren blood, but it doesn’t deter the other one.
There is a tremble in the water, and he knows it’s bad, and it’s coming.
There are bigger things lurking below, and Eskel wants to be out of here now.
He shoots off, away from the bleeding sirens, and not a second too late. Giant maws gape open, and in a flash they have closed around the wriggling siren.
Away, they need to get the fuck away.
For once, the surface is their best option, and Eskel takes the chance.
Eskel doesn’t stop to see if they are being chased, but he feels the water move as the Big Bad is hunting.
Jaskier doesn’t speak, just clings as hard as he can when Eskel swims as fast as he can. He holds the human tightly, knowing exactly how easy it is to lose his grip out here.
It’s hard to see where he’s going, but he knows where the shore is, too shallow for the old beast, and aims towards it.
Above, more sirens are gathered, but luckily they have lost focus on them, instead focusing on the slaughter of their kin.
When Eskel can sense the sea floor again, he slows down, but not by much.
He is still cradling Jaskier to himself, but only now, out of immediate danger, does he realize he still has his claws out. The human seems terrified, but alive, and his trousers are slightly torn where Eskel holds on to him. Damn it all.
“I’m alright,” Jaskier says hoarsely against Eskel, and the Mer doesn’t believe that for a second.
They are closing in on human territory. In the distance, Eskel can hear the creaking of boats and shouts and the telltale sounds of a village.
This is as far as he can go.
He chooses a spot that is blocked off, and brings Jaskier in just enough for him to reach the bottom. They turn, and Jaskier is safe at last.
It is shallow enough to stand on his own, but he doesn’t let go of Eskel. His arms are still around Eskel’s shoulders, his head buried in the crook of his neck.
“You are safe now,” Eskel murmurs, and realizes this is goodbye.
They have only known each other for hours, barely a day, and it would be foolish to give the feelings swirling inside him a name. If it had to have a name, it might have been hope.
Hope that he actually wouldn’t have to be alone, that despite everything, that somehow, somewhere, someone could care for someone like him.
“Will you be?” Jaskier asks, hurting Eskel in ways he did not think was possible.
He shuts his eyes against it, holding on, just a little longer.
“I always am,” he says. “I will heal in time, and there are safe ways home.”
Jaskier pulls back, and Eskel’s skin feels cold without him. The sky is full of colors and some left over storm clouds in the far distance. The sea birds cry and the sounds of humanity must be calling Jaskier home.
“Could you… stay around? For a little bit?” Jaskier says hopefully, and bites his lip, as if he didn’t mean to say that.
It is Eskel’s turn to blink in surprise.
“Why?” he asks, dumbly. Why would someone like Jaskier want him around? Unless there is a plot somewhere, to gather a group and spears.
To them, Eskel is a monster, after all. He is a monster to most.
“Because you got hurt! And because of me! I could… I don’t know, I could help you? Bring you food or something?”
Ah.
So he feels guilty.
Eskel sinks back deeper into the water. He will not make himself Jaskier’s problem with his misplaced feelings and wishes.
“I can’t,” he says, face barely above the surface, angled so his scars aren't as visible. May Jaskier remember him fondly, and better than he is.
The human looks down and takes a shaky breath before speaking.
“Can you… Will you at least come back to see me? We can meet here, if you’d like. When I can afford to buy a new lute, I’ll play for you.”
Eskel doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what this is.
“I-…” He hesitates, but when Jaskier meets his eyes, looking at him in the way Eskel feels, he dares to say it. “I could visit you. I enjoyed your company.”
“Despite the circumstances?” Jaskier smiles. “Despite the fact that I can’t swim, despite the fact that I can’t shut up or only say ridiculous things?”
“Because you treat me like I am like everybody else,” Eskel says, but regrets it the moment he says it, because Jaskier looks confused.
“Because you sing as sweetly as a Mer, because you smile even when it’s hard, because you don’t… you don’t fear me.”
The human tilts his head, then reaches for him, ever reaching for him.
“Eskel, I feel safer with you than with most on land. I don’t know your past, but you have done nothing but protect me, and I hate that it was at the cost of yourself.”
His fingertips are cold, chilled by the sea water. Humans are frail. If he stays in much longer, there could be consequences. Eskel hums, and allows himself to be touched, turning into it.
“You have to go,” Eskel murmurs, but swims closer nonetheless. Letting himself have this, even if it is for a short while.
“I want us to stay,” Jaskier replies, touching their foreheads together, breathing the same air.
“I will come back for you,” Eskel promises. He doesn’t know how, but he wants to, oh how he wants to. “But you need to get dry, I need you to be safe.”
“Ugh, so noble,” Jaskier whines. “Can I do something stupid again?”
Eskel’s heart skips a beat, and instead of replying, he presses his lips to Jaskier’s, who hums into the kiss.
But the sun is setting, and Jaskier is shivering with cold now, so Eskel pulls back.
“I’ll come back. Soon,” he promises again. “But you need to go.”
“I will hold you to that. If you don’t come see me, I will get into the water and find you myself,” Jaskier says, and then stares when Eskel smiles.
“You can’t swim,” Eskel reminds him, and then Jaskier surges forward and kisses him again, knocking their teeth together and banging a lip.
The kiss this time is desperate and tastes a little like iron.
“That’s why it is a threat,” Jaskier grumbles when he pulls back. “Fine. FINE, I’ll go. I expect to see you within ten days. Preferably every day in those ten days, you hear me?”
Eskel makes an amused sound in his throat and chest that makes the water vibrate around him.
“I hear you. I will do my best.”
“Good,” Jaskier kisses his forehead, swears and complains, and then slowly makes his way towards land.
Water carries humans differently, their bodies not made for the waves and the currents. Jaskier looks like how Eskel felt on land, and he watches him go in case Jaskier slips under the waves.
The moment Jaskier has set foot on shore, Eskel dives.
Rarely has Eskel had something valuable to part from. Or someone in this case.
It only makes it harder, and from below, he sees Jaskier stand there, looking out over the waves, until he finally turns and goes.
Eskel remains for a while longer. Partially because he doesn’t want to leave, partially because his ribs are aching something fierce.
He stays for the better part of the night, resting and doing what he can for his wounds.
Eventually, he swims back out to the depths, aware how vulnerable he is to an attack, exhausted and beaten up as he is.
It surprises him to see his brothers out here, though.
“Why are you here?” he asks in their native tongue, and Lambert makes a disgusted sound.
“You were missing, and the shore stinks of your blood.”
“And Siren blood. Were you attacked?” Geralt asks, his hair pale as moonlight around his head.
What a strange day. Eskel didn’t expect anyone to notice him gone, but here they are.
“Two sirens, but they were chased off by something bigger. Think we should avoid that area for a while,” Eskel says, eyeing Lambert as he swims closer to inspect him, daring him to say anything about the smell of human on him.
There is a wrinkled nose and a baring of teeth. Lambert hates humans with a deep passion, but he is never cruel, which is a part of the reason Eskel trusts him.
“I have a new poultice I have been working on. Should help with the pain,” Lambert says, noticing his torn fin. “Was it an orca who finished off the sirens, you think?”
“Bigger,” Eskel says, remembering the size of those maws. “Much bigger.”
“You think Vesemir knows?” Geralt asks, flanking Eskel, protecting his other side as they start their return journey home. “He knows almost every creature with teeth bigger than ours.”
Their path home takes the rest of the night. It hasn't been that long, but Eskel looks at his little dwelling with new eyes, the pod from a different standpoint.
He never thought he would be worth anything to anyone again. The pod, their home, their supposed family, never made him believe something else.
As Eskel finally falls into a slumber that night, Geralt and Lambert sleeping nearby, loath to part from him when he is hurt, he thinks about it.
Thinks about home, and shore, and blue eyes, and warm lips.
It takes Eskel seven days to recover enough to be allowed outside their dwelling. Another passes until he can make Geralt leave off and allow him to go out alone.
On the eve of the ninth day, Eskel is back where he left Jaskier.
He hears the singing first, muffled below the surface. When he breaches it, it changes. Mer sing. Mer are beautiful. Mer are deadly. But it would seem humans might be too.
