A Kraken’s Deal (Siren Call Part 2)
Summary: In the Kraken’s lair, William strikes a deal and makes a horrid mistake. LittleMermaid!au
Prompt: Goretober, Sacrifice
Warnings: deal making, unfair deal, skulls, mention of skinning mers.
Note: Markraen is pronounced “mark-ray-in”. Just did to make it sound more exotic and less normal, but I like it. Apologies that this is late!!! Hope you enjoy this, though, I’m loving this world so far^^
Dark inky water swirls around, the chill of it aching. Blood wasn’t what ran through kraken veins, they had no need for warmth and so they lived in the coldest parts of the sea. In the deep, the chasms, the one part of the sea not under the mer king’s control. The parts that remained empty and isolated until those who were desperate came along, searching for the gods of old.
Spikes rise up, bleached skulls of creatures appearing through the murky waters and hanging off the sharp points. Belonging to those who have angered the krakens, who had broken a deal, who hadn’t followed the rules. Symbols of anger, fair warning of what one was swimming into.
Life was forfeit, in these waters.
The mer king, despite ruling all of the seven seas, did not have control over the chasms and what lived in them. The krakens had been gods, once, had been rulers and kings and unstoppable. Then the tides had changed and the mers took the mantle of rulers of the sea. The krakens lived, angry, seething, but willing to offer deals to the mer, for a price. Losing their throne hadn’t stripped them of their magic.
Maybe it was coincidence that the mers who made deals were never the same after being submerged in the icy waters, in close proximity to the only things that were above them on the food chain.
Every mer knows to avoid the krakens, the chasms. To never, ever, ever strike a deal. They used to be gods and all they knew to do was take.
William swims forwards, scared but determined.
He’s searching for a particular kraken, a witch, one said to hold tremendous power, even when compared to others of his kind. One still angry, one who’s name is only whispered in frightened tones, a warning at the end.
If you must seek a kraken, do not go for that one. He will trick you into giving what he cannot take.
He’s passed the lairs and homes of the other krakens already. They had been bright, had been foreboding, but somehow not frightening, like all the stories said they’d be. Some of them weren’t angry, some of them were kind, almost. The further William swims, dives, the more harsh the homes become, the louder his instincts scream at him to turn back.
In the deep, where the water is darker then the night sky, then the dresses Celine had worn, is where the final kraken lives. The oldest, if the old folktales were to be believed. The one who hadn’t forgiven the mers for their upheaval, for the coup and for their banishment, loss of power. He lives in the part of the sea that’s almost too cold for a mer to be able to function.
The lair, home of this particular kraken, is sharp, all long, jagged edges and shadowed crevices. A soft light peers through the dark waters, and it is towards that light that William swims to.
Dimly, the light brightens the waters enough to see, but not warm the temperature any. Leaving all guests shivering and shuddering and anxious.
Disgustingly, horrifically, the inner walls are covered in skinned mer tails, stretched to lay flat against the wall. Scales shiny and gleaming and colorful in a way that means that the mer was living, when they were harvested. Living or very recently dead. Fins drip from the ceiling, tied together, preserved. William gags.
Movement. A deep, throaty chuckle. “My, my, is this the little king?”
William whirls around, a shadow skirting in his peripherals and more skinned tails lining the wall.
“Ah Ah,” the voice clucks at him teasingly. Cold water brushes against his back. “No peeking. It’s rude to barge into someone’s home, you know.”
William shivers, the sing-songy, low voice dredging up his fight or flight response. Fin twitching, he fights the urge to flee. “I want to make a deal.”
“A deal?” The voice rises in pitch, excitement and curiosity lacing through the voice. The kraken moves, tentacles wrapping around his tail and a finger notched under his chin. “Do you know who I am?”
The kraken is different from the mer. His human half is thickly skinned, leathery and muscled. His facial features are sharp, eyebrows edged downwards and lips plush and curled. Toeing a line between beautiful and terrifying. His fingers are sharp, tapering to a point that’s perfect for digging into something, ripping it apart. Eyes dark, a ruddy red with dim yellow lines drawn through it. Pupils no more then a pinprick, sclera as black as the darkest shadow, almost blending with the deep red of his iris. Hair short, black, waving in the water above his head like a demonic halo.
His lower half is black, but it winks a dark red in the light, frightening. Suckers line the underside of his tentacles, sharp-edged and able to dig into or stick to any surface. Able to cut into most anything, sucking nutrition out. The underside is a bright crimson, camouflaged against any blood that may be spilled against it.
“You’re the kraken witch.”
Pleased smile, the kraken nods. “And my name?” He whispers.
Gills flowing, breath taken, William whispers. “Markraen.”
“Excellent.” Markraen bares his sharp teeth in something that’s not quite a smile. “What could you possibly have to offer me, prince?”
Dull, murky red eyes meet William’s brown, probing for an answer. “Whatever you want,” he says, his own eyes darting between the two of the kraken.
The kraken sucks in water, teeth clenched pleasingly. “Those are dangerous words,” he says. Tentacles cinch around his chest, tugging him closer. “Anything gives a lot of wiggle room.”
“I don’t know what you’d want.” He tries very hard to keep his eyes from the wall of scales, the wall of his kind’s flesh displayed on the wall like artwork. He fails. Markraen looks behind him, smiling when he spots the scales.
Loosening his grip on William, sharp-edged suckers leaving circled marks all over, he gestures to the wall. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” He runs the backs of his sharp hands over the scales, slowly dragging it over the smooth surface.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not.”
“Hmm. Tell me,” he glides closer, tentacles waving over the ground in a way that’s somehow terrifying, predatory. “What do you wish to gain, little king?”
William flicks his tail, gliding away from Markraen’s hungry stare, sharp yellow cutting through the red. Celine’s soft voice hums in his head, a new measure he takes when he feels anxious and needs to calm down. “Legs,” he says. “Human legs.”
“Oh?” Surprise filters across the kraken’s face. “Legs? What use would you have for such a thing?”
He remembers Celine, her casual trust in him, her voice, her beauty. “What I want them for doesn’t matter,” he says. “You grant mers a wish, a deal, if they seek one out. Or is giving me legs something you’re not able to do?” His tone is sharp, instinct harshening his words without any thought.
Markraen leans forwards, face inches away. “Do not speak so brashly, mer.” He says the name like an insult. “You approached me for a deal and you should take care to remember who you’re speaking with.” Jagged yellow cutting through his eyes glow, casting a harsh light in his anger.
William flinches, eyes wide. “I— I’m sorry.”
Sneering at the frightened mer, the kraken backs away. “You have nothing to give that I want,” he says, eyes flat, yellow a little dimmer. “Leave.”
He should. He knows that. Celine— he doesn’t even know her that well.
“There must be something.” If he was smart, William would take this chance to leave with his life. Pushing one with more power usually didn’t end well. But he remembers the soothing effect her voice had had on him, how she had sapped away the pain of his mother’s memory. He had to do this.
“Nothing that is easily given. You are not exceptional, little king. Your blood is the only thing you have of value, and that cannot be taken without taking your life as well and then there is no deal.” The kraken blinks, face uninterested as he turns away. He gestures to the walls. “I have been dealing for a long time, prince, and there is little I do not have. Now leave while I still offer the chance.”
William swallows, instincts screaming at him to obey, to just leave. Eyes scanning the horrid walls, he stays. “What about my tail?”
Markraen turns, eyes sparked, yellow bright. “What do you mean?” He stares at William, gaze intense and pinning. He couldn’t leave now even if he’d wanted, not with those eyes on him.
“If you give me legs, you can have my tail. You don’t have the scales of a gold mer.” His gold scales, how they were revered by the people. He was the first to be scaled in the color of the mer palace. There’d only been rumors of gold-scaled mers and the people believed that it would make him a good king. Now, here he was, offering them to a kraken. For legs.
Red eyes turning to appraise the decoration in question, he nods. “That I don’t.”
False bravado, chin lifted, William offers a deal. “Then you can have it, as long as you give me legs.”
Hands clenched behind his back, shaking, he keeps Celine’s face in his mind, her words of him being better than her suitors. She is why he is here. He must keep that in mind.
Silence, grinding teeth, swirling arms. The kraken grins, teeth bared. “Alright, little king. We can strike a deal.”
“Alright.” William nods. “Deal made. Let’s do it.”
Markraen laughs. “Foolish prince,” he says. “We must discuss details. Deals are not so simple.”
William shakes his head. He knows about negotiations from his father, how they can drag out, take days, and in the end, make the deal fall through. He doesn’t care for the details.
“Oh?” Mark slithers closer, eyebrows raised, lower appendages sneaking to encircle the foolish mer. Eyes dark, pupils shivering, teeth clenched and smile restrained, he does what he needs to seal the deal. “Are you certain, my prince? The deal cannot be undone, once it is made.” Despite all the nasty rumors and warnings, it was ridiculous how many mers didn’t wish to discuss the details. He could be fair, in the right circumstances.
It’s really not his fault that mers didn’t want to argue a better deal for themselves.
“Then you shall be bound to the usual rules, with details altered as required.” He extends his hand, lips curled upwards in the beginnings of a grin.
Hand outstretched, William shakes on it. Markraen produces a long scroll from behind his back, a too-wide grin adorning his face as William blindly signs the bottom, not reading any of the fine print. Maybe the basic contract should get boring, but the stupidity and blind trust of the mers never fail to bring him joy. It helps that the contract was effective and highly in his favor.
Bound by signature, the deal cannot be undone. All William promised must be given and he will receive what he asked and only that.
Foolish prince, William has made the worst mistake.
The details lie in the fine print. Krakens have a knack for giving what is offered in a way that is unpleasant. William, poor him, had asked for something very simple. Legs were easy to give. A mer with human legs, however, didn’t make a human.
One should never sign before negotiations. That’s what they all did, anyways. Foolish, stupid mers. Thinking that the old gods would offer fair deals, would be merciful to the lesser species after they fell from power, after it was wrested from them.
Hand shaken, deal signed, there’s no going back.
Sorry if this ended up being a bit filler-y, but it was needed. The next part is gonna be more exciting though. I’m actually really disappointed that this didn’t get out on time. Sorry again!! I’m gonna try to catch up soon, but I won’t be home for the weekend, so I might fall more behind. I’ll still do all 31 prompts, just no longer in a timely manner, unfortunately :/
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