So! I’m late, because I was gonna do a comic and it got... longer than I thought, so I did this instead, and I’ll work on the comic later. So! Here Klance AU month, Day 6: Pirates!
Keith is a merman who’s pod mate Shiro is injured. They’re picked up by a net cast by Lance’s crew. Lance strikes a deal with Keith. He’ll try to save Shiro, and if they should be successful, Keith can help him find what he’s looking for. Desperate, Keith agrees.
In the AU, Merm magic can enable one to walk for a short time on land. So have Pirate!Lance helping Merman!Keith find his “sea legs” on deck his ship while a proud Shiro watches from his jury rigged sea water sick bed (they secured a life boat to the side of the ship and filled it with water. Every single crew mate was desperately proud of their ingenuity).
Keith, naturally, is Extremely Put Out by his newfound clumsiness. Lance is absolutely Enamoured.
Pirate!Lance x Mermaid!Reader - Desire to Become Human
So uhhhh i somehow did two fics for the same request,,,, fandoms dead but i’m still uploading this cause i like it for the plot
Pronouns: Female
Words: 435
Buy me a Ko-fi? ← (plz consider this and go to my blog for the link, tumblr sucks)
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Lance sinks into the pool, sighing as the warm water envelops his body, his arms spread out on the edge.
He closes his eyes as he sits on the underwater ledge. His tense muscles relax by the second, the stress of the day being drawn out of him.
He can already feel himself drifting off to sleep, his mind woozy with drowsiness. However, the sound of dripping water and the feeling of rippling waves bobbing against his chest drags him away from the comfortable arms of sleep.
Soft, wet lips press against chapped ones, serving as a form of moisturiser as they meld together.
“You look exhausted.” You murmur against his lips.
Lance, whose eyes have yet to open, simply leans his forehead on yours, noses squishing against each other. “I feel exhausted.”
The back of your knuckles tickles across his cheek. “Why don’t you go to sleep?”
Lance manages to force his eyes open. His navy blue eyes stare into your sparkling (e/c) ones. He peels his arms off the ledge and lays them atop the small of your back. He feels your shimmery scales at the tips of his fingers.
“I wanted to see you.”
You smile, but the worried look in your eyes doesn’t disappear. “Sleep is more important right now.”
Lance can’t help but smirk. “I can easily argue with that.”
You heave out a heavy sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. You place a chaste kiss on his lips before resting your head on your shoulder, nose tickling just below his jaw.
The room is quiet as the pair lean in each other’s embrace within the warm water. Minutes pass easily and quickly, and the inevitable thought lingers across their minds; Lance would eventually get prune skin, then he’d have to leave for bed.
It was the most dreaded time, but they knew that it had to happen sooner or later, as it did every night.
Of course, they both knew it was essential, but dread filled them every time.
“Lance?”
Lance hums in acknowledgement.
“I want to become a human. I want to be with you forever.”
Lance isn’t surprised as he should be, and he’s not sure if it’s the overwhelming exhaustion or the fact that he’s had similar thoughts.
“Me too. But we’ll tackle that hurdle later. Right now, I just want to hold you close.”
You sigh in relief and nuzzle his cheek with yours, the simple action displayed a loud show of affection.
That hurdle is definitely a hard one to tackle, but with Lance by your side, you’re positive you’ll overcome it.
Remember when I said these subsequent chapters would be short? This chapter is 4500 words.
And now, the Plance interaction begins. @sp4c3-0ddity tag you’re it.
Prologue
Chapter One
~~~~~
A mermaid. They actually had a mermaid with precious little time to spare. The condition to break the curse could be met. Haggar wouldn’t be happy to give up her potential puppets so easily, so perhaps they’d have to fight her once more, but they would at least be free of the curse.
Lance should be happy.
He feels miserable instead, nearly sick to his stomach.
It’s been hours and her face still haunts him. He recognizes her eyes, a clear echo of his younger self, although her fear and heartache were far more justified than his had ever been. Unthinkable what-ifs worm into his mind, of his parents refusing to submit to the hostage demands. Would the crew have killed him at a time when they hadn’t known him as well?
Lance dismisses the traitorous thoughts. The Blade of Marmora pirates are not - and never were - cold-blooded killers; he’s seen that firsthand throughout the years.
But no matter their moral code, having a mermaid in the brig put them all on a figurative sandbar.
“There is no discussion,” Kolivan says to the circle of assembled crew. “Waiting until the last moment is too cruel. The heart must be taken now.”
Frenzied debate breaks out among the veteran members. While most agree it must be done, having the mermaid physically aboard gives many second thoughts, Lance included.
He sighs and goes about his appointed task of checking the mermaid’s possessions, something to help keep busy while the crew debates. He shifts around for a more stable seat on the rigging that he and Keith watch from.
“It’s not fair,” Lance says. He sifts through the bag’s contents with one hand, feeling mostly smooth rocks and the ridges of seashells.
“Most things in life aren’t,” Keith replies evenly.
“There has to be something else we can do,” Lance stresses, turning to his friend. “Haggar said we had to earn the heart of a mermaid. Cutting out her heart and taking it doesn’t sound like earning to me.”
Keith shrugs. “She did surrender of her own free will. I’d call that earning.”
Lance deflates in exasperation and peers into the satchel. “We were kidnapping her dad.”
“It kind of counts?” Keith says. “Look, I don’t really want her dead either, Lance, but if we don’t break this curse not only do we have a fate worse than death, but Zarkon gets an immortal crew that follows his commands to the letter. None of us want that for ourselves or for the world. If there was another way we’d all jump on it.”
Lance’s fingertips brush a couple strange objects. He pulls out a handheld pipe and a pair of spectacles minus their lenses and wonders use would a mermaid have for these.
Lance leans back and throws his hands up, landing in a cluster of rope. “This sucks. I thought a pirate’s life was supposed to be carefree and simple. We’re supposed to be raiding ships, wooing the ladies, and just generally having a good time.”
“Maybe some of us, not you,” Keith ribs with a smirk on his face. “You’re the least pirate out of all of us.”
A sting pierces his heart, but he continues smiling despite it. He knows Keith doesn’t mean to hurt him, not like this, but by the Ancients Lance thought he was past this.
“What?” he jokes back. “You’ve see my charms firsthand. The ladies we rescue love me.”
A grey, long-haired cat poofs into existence on top of Lance’s currently horizontal stomach. He isn’t surprised by Kosmo’s appearance but gasps and shoots back to a sitting position when the teleporting cat uses his belly as a launching pad. He takes the mermaid’s frames and poofs away.
“Can you please control your cat?” he tells Keith in annoyance and points at the bag in his lap. “I’m going to have to give this back eventually.”
Keith rolls his eyes. “Kosmo has more charm than you,” he jabs with a teasing glint, but quickly frowns when his eyes flicker to the deck of the ship. “If you want to give the bag back to her, you’d better do something now. Otherwise you may not get a chance.”
Kolivan has broken off from the group with Krolia and Antok, making their way down towards the brig. Before Lance can even think about what he’s doing, he climbs down and rushes to stand in their way.
“There’s got to be another way,” he pleads.
“This isn’t up for debate, Lance,” Krolia says. She steps forward. “Move aside.”
Lance blocks her path “Doesn’t this feel wrong to you? We haven’t earned anything. We’re going to kill her for nothing.”
“And you have an alternative?” Kolivan asks. “Lance, you cannot put yourself in her position. It isn’t the same.”
Lance knows it’s a rhetorical question, but he can’t not say anything. “I’m cursed just the same as everyone else,” he blurts. “Haggar looked into my head for this part, so I should have some say in this,”--he crosses his arms defiantly--“and I say we keep looking for another way.”
There, that ought to show them.
“If you want a say in this then you must be prepared to cut her heart out yourself,” Kolivan responds. “Is that something you are willing to do?”
Lance gapes like a fish, unprepared for the ultimatum. He’s killed before, but never an unarmed civilian - let alone a mermaid! The phrase ‘shooting fish in a barrel’ becomes uncomfortably real.
Phrase. Haggar never said they needed to literally take a mermaid’s heart. She’d used the word ‘earn’.
“I won’t have to,” Lance says. He beams at the revelation. “Maybe all she has to do is say ‘I love you’ and that’ll be it. I - I’ll pull out all the stops, Candlelit dinners, flowers somehow, the best compliments!”
Krolia raises an eyebrow and side-eyes Kolivan, awaiting his reaction. Antok says nothing, but his aura judges Lance’s plan.
“We’ve discussed the curse being metaphorical before,” Kolivan states. “It is unlikely such a superficial act will work. Are you willing to put both of your hearts on the line to gain a true bond? If you fail, she will end up suffering tenfold before death, and you will live with it.”
“It's worth trying,” Lance says quickly. “I know if I were given a choice, I’d try anything.”
He bites his lip; he hadn’t meant for that to be so direct.
Kolivan is silent for a long moment, hopefully considering Lance’s words.
“This is our last chance,” he says evenly. “You have until the day before the century mark. If the curse has not broken, then you will cut out her heart.”
Lance barely registers the last part. He salutes, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you, Captain!” The mermaid will be safe for the time being. “I’ll start right away!”
“Do not tell her about the curse,” Kolivan says, pulling him up short. “It may be best to let her live in ignorance for a while longer. Do you understand?”
He frowns under Kolivan’s intense stare. “What am I supposed to say when she asks?”
“You’re a pirate, Lance,” Krolia offers with a sigh. “You don’t have to say anything.”
But he isn’t. Not really. His situation makes no difference to the mermaid though, so pirate he’ll be.
“All right,” Lance concedes. “I won’t tell her about the curse.”
Kolivan nods in approval. “Have Keith help you with the mermaid’s needs. That will be your principal duty from now on. I’ll take someone off weapons maintenance to help with food preparation.”
Lance’s mouth twitches into a grin. He’ll get to flirt on duty and order Keith around? Today is shaping up to be a good day.
~~~~~
The enthusiasm fades as he descends the stairs to the brig, where they keep the mermaid mostly out of principle. She can’t survive long out of the water-filled barrel, so putting her behind bars seems unnecessary.
As much as Lance wants to help her, he has no idea where to start. What does he even say?
It’s been so long since his own kidnapping. He tries to remember who said what to him, or how long he wanted to be alone, but he only has fleeting memories of Krolia placing a sword in his hands and late-night chats with Keith while trying to fall asleep.
He remembers being busy, but the mermaid won’t have the luxury of distraction.
Maybe that’s what he can give her.
Lance opens the barred door, the irons thick and flat. It creaks, unused and unoiled in decades (he’ll fix it later), and he winces. She had to know he was here now. “Hey,” he says, raising his voice just above normal. “You still in there?”
He wants to slap himself for his stupid question. “O-obviously you’re still there. What I mean, is everything okay?” he wonders as he draws closer. Water trickles over the side of the barrel, displaced by the creature - person - inside. “Comfortable? I know it’s not the most spacious place. Maybe I can get you something to make it a bit better?”
No answer.
He takes a deep breath in and out, upper body rolling in sync. Adjusting the one good strap of the mermaids backpack around his shoulder, he steps forward and cautiously peers into the water.
It’s darker here in the hold, so it’s hard to make out the figure at the bottom at first.
His nose finds her first. Despite being part fish, why did mermaids have to smell like them too? The stories never prepared him for this.
When his eyes adjust, he can see that hers are closed. Her tail, twice as long as the rest of her body, twitches like Kosmo’s does when he’s in the midst of a dream.
She didn’t hear a word he said.
Lance releases the breath he was holding. At least her nap spares him embarrassment.
He probably should leave her be; that’s what he thinks he would want but… she’s mesmerizing. Lance still remembers the twelve-year-old inside of him fascinated with mermaids and wanting so badly to meet one, how amazing it is that a humanoid could live underwater naturally. A memory from another lifetime resurfaces, of him pretending to be a mermaid on the beach with his siblings, of him ducking in and out of the water to scare his sisters and his father joking that perhaps he was born to be a fish after all.
And now because of the curse, he’s confined to the water he loves so much.
She won’t notice if he stays for just a bit longer. He wants to commit what she looks like to memory. He can try making nice with her another time.
Seaweed drapes her torso, concealing everything it needs to . Growing up on a ship with a mixed crew, there’s little he’s a stranger to, but he’s relieved merfolk have similar modesty standards to humans. He doesn’t want to be caught gawking for more than one reason.
Long auburn hair and a pale upper half is where any physical commonality ends. Dark green scales - nearly black submerged in water - dot her arms and back and thicken at her wrists. Lance follows the ribbing along the top of her tail, which curls around the edges of the barrel with the fins tickling her face. His heart thumps in regret when her thinly webbed fingers clutch above the fins, as if seeking comfort from something familiar.
He knows with certainty that’s what she’s doing.
Only the threat of the curse on him and the crew keeps him from just letting her free right this minute.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He dares to grip the edge of the barrel and dip his fingers in the water. “I hope you can forgive us one day.”
The mermaid's eyes flash open. A surprised gasp barely escapes him before angry red eyes find him.
She launches herself up.
Lance steps back, heart pounding. He isn’t fast enough, and sharp needle-like teeth sink into his forearm.
He screams from the pain, falling to the floor and sliding away, clutching his arm to stop the bleeding.
“Hey, that hurt!” he exclaims indignantly once he realizes he’s not going to die from the wound. He’s had worse, and being immortal has some perks.
He meets her guarded hazel eyes, the hint of fear unmistakable. Her scaled fingers grip the edge of the barrel, but her mouth is still underwater.
“Good!” she snaps, but her voice cracks despite her indignation. “It’s supposed it!”
A beam of sunlight from a barred vent in the ceiling hits her thickly scaled cheeks, making her face look unworldly thin and scales shine yellowish-green. It’s gorgeous, the way she can seem so dark and mysterious underwater and bright and youthful above.
She must be stunning in the sunshine…
(He admonishes himself for hating the overcast skies from when they took her aboard.)
Her thinly webbed earlobes twitch, their rectangular shape odd but the action obviously annoyed.
His jaw snaps shut when he realizes he’s gaping.
“It’s bad enough you’re keeping me here, but are you all planning on watching me while I sleep? It’s creepy. Can’t you just leave me alone?” She sinks lower into the water and he can no longer see her flat, scaly nose.
The dark blue puffs around her eyes aren’t scaled, but they don’t seem to fit with the rest of her face. Did mermaids cry water underwater?
Oh. Of course she’s been upset.
“No!” he retorts. “I just came to see if I can get you anything. It gets lonely down here.”
She hisses, “I don’t need company from any human!” She ducks down with a splash, hiding from view.
The blood drains from his face as his brain scrambles for context. He lifts his bloodied hand from his wound and sees that he’ll need to see Doctor Ulaz for disinfectant. He knows stories of legendary beings from both land and sea, one of his favorite pastimes. What if…
“I’m not going to turn into a mermaid, am I?” he frets. But it would be preferable to the curse he already lived under, and he wouldn’t need pants anymore. Less laundry!
She doesn’t respond.
Lance considers leaving, frustrated with his lack of success, but he remembers why he’s there. Her life is on the line. He has to at least make an effort to be friends.
And the child inside wants to know more about her.
He stands and clears his throat, confidence rising in the simple action. “We got off on the wrong foot, or tail for you I guess. I’m sorry for staring at you. I won’t do it again. My name’s Lance.”
He waits for her to reply with her name. After an uncomfortably long silence, he continues, “Look, I know you have no reason to trust any of us, but two months is a long time to not talk to anyone.”
Her eyes break the surface once more, this time looking uncertain and vulnerable. “How long is two months?” she asks.
“About sixty days,” he says patiently. “A sunrise and sunset make a day.”
“Oh, sixty quintants.” She gulps, diverting her eyes. “What happens to me after that?”
Lance isn’t sure how to answer without revealing her role in lifting the curse. She deserves to know, he knows she does, but he doesn’t want to risk losing a tentative thread of friendship this early when it could save her life.
But he pauses too long, and she thankfully continues into a nervous ramble.
“Am I going to one of those… menageries? A—a lot of the sea creatures have relatives who end up in one. I’ve heard they aren’t too bad, once you get used to land walkers watching you all the time. As long as there’s room to swim and the water has good circulation.”
Her hands shake. Lance isn’t sure what comes over him, but compassion for both her true predicament and guessed one outweighs the fear of being bitten again.
“I won’t have to forage anymore,” she adds. “And there will be plenty of others to talk to. Maybe we’ll know the same folk.” She perks up. “Maybe they’ll know my family! I’ll never see them again but maybe the seals can take mes — “
On a chance, Lance takes her hands in his. They are cool and smooth to the touch, and he can’t help running a thumb over the scales. She stops trembling but does not pull away.
“I still want to see the human world. Maybe whoever is in charge will have some interesting things for me to see.”
“Is that why you carry this bag of junk?”
Her eyes widen when he shows that he has it with him, and she rises to her chest out of the water, ripping her hand away. “That’s mine! Give it back!”
Lance holds the satchel up and away from her. This is his chance to find out her interests fast. “You’re really interested in this stuff?”
“Not anymore thanks to you!” she yells, swiping for it and missing.
His heart freezes in horror as she leans over for it with her sharp claws fully extended, her abdomen a fulcrum and the barrel on the verge of tipping over.
Lance drops the bag and steadies the barrel, preventing more water from spilling to the floor.
But the mermaid strains for the bag and flops out, her tail slapping him squarely in the face.
“Ow!” he whines, clutching his sore nose. He intends to say more but reconsiders when she clutches the bag to her chest as if it was a lifeline.
Half the water is spilled thanks to the incident. Lance needs to fill it again, but more importantly he needs to get her back in.
“We’re not all bad, you know,” he says weakly. He senses he repeats words someone once told him, and it makes him ill delivering the message himself and meaning it.
“Then why did you kidnap me? Why did you take my things?” she demands without loosening her grip on the bag. “We did nothing to earn this.”
Lance winces at her choice of words, guilt eating him from the inside. “I had to make sure there was nothing dangerous to us in there,” he says, dodging the first question. “I was going to give it back to you.”
Her eyes grow wide in surprise and possible embarrassment. “You went through my treasures?!”
“I wouldn’t call them treasures,” Lance admits. “That pipe is useless underwater, and it’s just rocks and seashells. You can find those anywhere. Your necklace looks like a real gem though. That might be worth something.”
The mermaid encases the green stone centerpiece with one hand - Lance is positive it’s an emerald - and glares. “What kind of humans are you?”
“This is a pirate ship and most of us aren’t even human,” Lance says. “I’m the only one, actually. Everyone else is Galra. Well, except Keith, but he’s only half-Galra so he looks human. You… can’t tell the difference?”
Her mouth flaps open. “I thought humans were just that biologically diverse.”
Oh Ancients, they’ve captured a scientist.
She sighs in resignation. “I wish I could make note of all this. Are humans and Galra the only — “ She wheezes, choking on the air.
Time was up for her drying gills.
Lance scoops her up, muscles conditioned after decades at sea. He dips her head first into the water, making sure her gills are functioning and at rest before letting her tail slide in.
“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning over to look into the barrel.
The mermaid curls up on the bottom like when he first arrived, but her eyes are closed in relief rather than sleep.
“I’m fine,” she says. “I hate this water. It’s so stale.”
Despite her complaint (or rather because of it), her gills open wide to take in water for several seconds, before she sits upright, the waterline only up to her shoulders.
“You said I had a pipe. What’s a pipe?”
“The pipe?! You almost died and you’re worried about your knickknacks?” he says, incredulous. “I need to get you more water. I’ll change it every couple of hours from now on.” He straightens to leave to do just that.
“Wait,” she says, grabbing his arm. He turns to see her desperate look. “Don’t leave. The human things were gifts from my family. I’ve wanted to know what they really are since forever. I can deal with a little stale water until then.”
Lance sees the break he’s been looking for and somehow stumbled upon. He melts at her touch, relaxing even though he shouldn’t with her obvious discomfort.
He hopes her request doesn’t end up being her last one.
“It’s the five tubes of metal tied together,” he says.
The mermaid digs through her bag with vigor. She finds the correct object, but her face scrunches in confusion. “It’s not here!” she says, voice rising with increasing panic. “Matt’s wires are missing!” She glares at him. “What did you do with them?”
“I didn’t take anything!” he defends. “I put everything back in the bag except — “
Except for the glasses that Kosmo snatched, he realizes with dread. Probably the wires she’s talking about.
Lance is used to Keith’s cat, so he isn’t surprised when he teleports in at the exact moment he’s needed with the frames in his mouth, walking delicately along the rim of the barrel.
Lance is used to cursed cats.
The mermaid is not. She shrieks, dropping the bag and stiffening, backing up as far as she can.
“Go bother Keith,” Lance grumbles as he takes the frames and shoos the cat off with a wave. Kosmo jumps down without a sound and poofs off to his next haunt.
“What was that?” she squeaks.
“Keith’s magical cat,” Lance says, rolling his eyes. “Kosmo catches all the rats that stow away. He’s harmless and been here longer than me. He just takes a bit to get used to. We had all kinds of fun with him when we were kids. It was almost like having a dog.”
The mermaid stares blankly at him. “What’s a cat?”
Lance isn’t often caught speeches, but how does one explain a cat? “One of those?”
“Obviously,” she says, rolling her eyes. “What is its species name? It’s a land animal so perhaps — “
“I’ll tell you if you tell me your name,” Lance interrupts. “I mean, I won’t force you, but I really don’t want to keep calling you ‘mermaid’ the whole time.” To increase the incentive, he holds the frames out to her.
She takes it, as if it was a precious glass figurine. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and ducks back underwater.
When she emerges again, she’s wearing the frames.
Behind her head.
“You can call me Pidge,” she finally says.
Lance grins, heart filling with joy. This crazy plan might actually work. No one will have to die. He just has to get her to say those words.
“Well, Pidge,” he says, enjoying how easily her name rolls off the tongue, “your first human lesson is how to properly wear glasses.” He leans over and plucks them off her head, before gently resting them in front of her eyes.
Not having a nose causes complications and they fall down her face. She scowls. “What’s the point in that?”
Lance laughs. “Humans use them to see better. Normally they have glass in them, so we call them glasses. Doctor Ulaz has a working pair. I guess it doesn’t work for mermaids.”
Pidge stares down cross-eyed before placing the glasses back the way she had them, more like a hat. “I like it better this way. What’s a cat? And what’s a dog? And the differences between Galra and human - and what do my pipes do?” she asks, holding up the device. “I want to know everything.”
“Okay okay, one thing at a time!” Lance stresses. “Mammals. That’s the term you’re looking for. That’s what humans and Galra are too.”
“Fascinating,” Pidge breathes in wonder. “I knew there had to be more of them on land like seals. Maybe I’ll get to see some more when I”--her smile falters for just a blink of an eye,--“get to the menagerie.”
Lance refuses to go down that road of conversation right now.
“Yeah, sure. Those pipes are pretty cool though. You can play a song with them.”
Pidge lights up. “I knew it was a musical instrument! I knew it and no one believed me!” She thrusts it into his face, and he has to lean back to avoid getting hit. “Can you play it? I want to know what it sounds like. I want to know how it works!”
Lance examines it once it’s in his hands. He hasn’t played one of these since Antok’s was lost to the sea in an incident that was absolutely not his fault. He smirks. It was easy enough then, it should be no problem now. Plus, it’s another opportunity to impress Pidge.
“I should be able to play a few notes,” he brags.
Pidge doesn’t seem to mind the obvious posturing; she rests her elbows and chin on the rim of the barrel, eagerly awaiting his performance.
So he plays, blowing softly into each tube. The melody is terrible and he can’t remember a single song, but it seems to be pitched well even after years underwater.
Pidge is enraptured. A smile remains on her face and her ears wiggle with delight.
It’s incredibly cute and endearing.
He finishes and she claps excitedly for him. “That was amazing! It’s so different from dolphin and whale calls!”
His heart flutters from the praise. He didn’t grow up in the absence of it, but he could never see past the underlying obligation behind the words. Pidge doesn’t know his story, and now that they seem to be getting along, there was no need to tell her.
He’s about to thank her when the cellar door slams open.
“Lance!” Keith yells, nearly out of breath. “We found the Vrepit Sa. It’s alone. We’ll be on her in an hour!”
The pride of Zarkon’s fleet, alone. Ripe for picking off and causing a crippling blow to the pirate king himself.
They’ll never get another chance to weaken Zarkon with only two months before the curse expires. They have to do whatever they can to take him down before they’re unable to resist his commands.
“I’ll be right there!” he calls back.
Keith acknowledges him with a nod and runs off to prepare his own post, Kosmo at his heels.
“What’s going on?” Pidge asks. She looks around wildly, pausing to watch a few crewmembers run across the vent above her. “What are you doing?”
Lance smirks, energy building and escaping through twitching fingers. “What pirates do best: raid ships.
Because Keith as a merman is still a golden concept for me. This time featuring Pirate Lance.
Enjoy!
Lance McClain was going to die.
He knew it was his own damn fault. He’d gotten too greedy. Even among pirates, there were certain rules that couldn’t be broken. Such as the rule against stealing from the captain himself. But, like a fool, Lance had been unsatisfied with his meager share of the latest treasure haul and had tried to supplement it with some of the captain’s share.
And now he was going to die here, strapped to the mast of a sinking ship, praying to every patron saint of sailors he could think of, while the rest of the crew rowed away scot free.
He was running out of time. Almost the entire hull was underwater now and the deck was becoming flooded, the water creeping up around his ankles, then his knees, then his hips. In a matter of minutes, it would be over his head.
“Please,” he choked out, voice hoarse, “Please, someone…help.”
And then, impossibly, his prayers were answered.
Just over the starboard side of the ship, a head of black hair poked up above the water, followed by bare, pale shoulders.
Lance didn’t know how a solitary swimmer could have gotten this far out to sea, nor did he care. “Hey!” he shouted, “Over here! Please, help! Untie me!” The water was up to his chest by now. He strained against his bonds, but they did not budge.
The lone swimmer contemplated him for a moment, before ducking beneath the water once more.
“No!” shouted Lance, “No, come back! Come—“ At that moment, the water reached his chin and Lance barely had enough time to take one last gulp of air before he was pulled under.
He thought that was the end of him. That it would be easier to just open his mouth and let the ocean consume him, when he felt something tugging at the ropes around his arms. His eyes flew open.
The sting of the salt water made it difficult to see, but Lance could catch glimpses of a figure in the water next to him, pulling at the ropes. A cloud of thick, dark hair, equally dark eyes, wide with worry, a pale, bare chest, and below that…below that…
Lance’s mouth opened in surprise and the seawater rushed in, just as he felt the ropes fall away from his arms. Suddenly, he was being yanked upward, toward the sunlight. Just before he could black out completely, his head broke the surface and he gasped and coughed.
Then, a pair of arms was wrapped around him and he was being pulled through the water at an astonishing speed. He drifted in and out of consciousness as the water rushed past him. Just before his exhaustion could overtake him, he was being dragged up onto a beach, the warm sand at his back. He rolled to his side and spat up an alarming amount of sea water.
He was vaguely aware of someone lying next to him. With great effort, he kept his eyes open just long enough to get a good look at his rescuer. It was a man, his dark, wet hair plastered to his face and neck, his hand gently caressing Lance’s cheek, the red scales of his tail shimmering in the sun.
Good god, thought Lance, they do exist.
“Shh,” the merman said in a low, soothing voice, “It’s all right, you’re safe now.”
“Hello, beautiful,” said Lance, head still spinning from his dip in the ocean, “Do you have a map?”
“A what?” said the merman.
“A map. Because I seem to be lost in your eyes.” said Lance, before passing out cold.
When he came to, he found he had been moved under a palm tree to keep him out of the hot sun, no doubt by his mysterious merman rescuer.
How considerate of him, thought Lance, Though I wish he’d given me a pillow as well.
All in all, Lance supposed circumstances could be worse. The island he was on looked fairly big, with plenty of trees for timber. He couldn’t be too far from where the ship had sunk, so this island was probably located along one of the major sailing routes his crew used. After fishing around in his pockets for a bit, Lance was relieved to pull out his flint and a pocket knife. Perfect, now he could build a fire and use it to signal passing ships. But first he ought to find fresh water. No use in attracting a rescue vessel if he died of thirst before it could reach him.
Turning his back to the beach, Lance trudged into the jungle, in search of a stream. Along the way, he spotted several fruit-bearing trees, making a mental note to come back later and see if any of them were safe for eating. After a few minutes of hiking through the underbrush, his ears caught the sound of running water. Lance took off at a near sprint.
He reached a stream and nearly sobbed with relief. After splashing water on his face to rinse off the dried salt, he drank deeply, first trying to hold the water in his cupped hands, then, when that proved unsatisfying, bending down and drinking directly from the stream like a dog.
He had to force himself to sit back up, to not drink too quickly or he would throw it all up again. As Lance wiped his mouth with his sleeve, a new sound caught his ear.
Singing. A strange, wordless singing coming from downstream.
Lance followed the sound. Soon, he came to a short cliff maybe twenty feet high, the stream rushing over the edge in a waterfall, forming a small lagoon below, which opened up to the sea.
And sitting perched on a rock in the lagoon was his merman, singing that strange wordless song and running some kind of comb through his hair.
Lance’s heart fluttered. He had thought the strange creature beautiful when he was delirious from almost drowning. Now in the clear light of day, he was even more so.
Glancing around, Lance noticed some vines growing along the cliff, sporting some lovely red flowers. Lance picked one of the blooms and allowed it to drift down towards the merman. It landed just behind him and floated in the water. Huffing, Lance picked another one, this time blowing it a little as he let it go, so that it sailed over the merman’s head and landed in front of him. Surprised, the merman looked up and turned his head in Lance’s direction.
“You know,” Lance called down, “They say the sound of a siren’s voice can drive sailors mad with longing, but I think you could do it with your face alone.”
It could have been the light reflected off his scales, but Lance swore he saw the merman blush. “So you’re awake. Did you have a nice rest?”
“I did,” said Lance, “I dreamed a beautiful angel pulled me from the sea and carried me to shore. Imagine my happiness when I woke and discovered it wasn’t just a dream.”
The merman rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his grin, “I bet you say that to all the merpeople who save you from drowning.”
“Only the pretty ones. Is the water deep down there?”
“Fairly deep. Why do you—“ said the merman just as Lance jumped off the cliff and landed in the water with a resounding splash.
He surfaced and laughed at the merman’s glaring face.
“You absolute guppy! Suppose the water was shallow! What would you have done then?”
“Waited for you to rescue me again. The name’s Lance, by the way. What’s yours?”
“Keith.”
“Well, Keith, I’m in your debt for saving me. What would you like? Name any treasure and I’ll give it to you.”
Keith tilted his head coyly, “Treasure? Like what?”
“Like a rope of pearls to hang around your lovely neck.”
“Pearls?” Keith wrinkled his nose, “Those things that come from oysters? Don’t like them. Too crunchy.”
“Well, it wouldn’t have to be pearls. I could give you some gold bracelets for your arms.”
Keith smiled, amused, “But they’d slow me down while swimming.”
“What about a ring, then? With a big diamond the size of a strawberry.”
Keith held up his hands to reveal the delicate webbing between his fingers, “I don’t think that would work.”
Lance huffed and would have crossed his arms if he wasn’t busy treading water, “Well, all right Mr. Picky, what would you like me to give you?”
“How about one of those?” said Keith, pointing to one of the flowers floating in the water.
“Oh. Well, that’s easy then,” said Lance. He scooped up the blossom and clambered up onto the rock next to Keith.
Keith’s breath hitched at Lance being so close to him. “Your eyes are very blue.”
“I’m told they’re as blue as the ocean,” said Lance, “Don’t get lost at sea.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Lance brushed Keith’s hair back and tucked the flower behind his ear, “There. Beautiful.”
“Me or the flower?”
“Both.”
And he meant it. From the red flower in his hair, to the red shimmer of his scales, to the red blush on his cheeks, Keith was a stunning sight. Certainly worth almost dying for.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
For @shancefluffweek - Day 8 - Free Day
Summary:
The plan was a simple one.
A very, very simple one. As simple as a plan can get.
Ram the the Altean transport ship. Dramatically board and overwhelm the crew into submission. Steal the Book of Voltron. Get rich, maybe a little infamous, and retire to the pristine beaches of Varadero...or Fiji...or somewhere nice and tropical, and very, very far away.
Prince Takashi Shirogane was not supposed to be there.
Yeah, last fic of Shance Fluff Week. And it’s a Sinbad AU cause I want it so everyone is getting it. I hope you all enjoy!
Titles comes from The Heat by The Score, cause it kind fits!
