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It was dark.
Dark, and unbearably cold.
Arthur didn't know what he expected the depths of the ocean to be like, but this... this all-consuming emptiness wasn't it. All those times he'd gone diving, he'd always been thrilled by the diversity of the fish he saw in the water, especially in the warmer, more tropical areas of the world.
But here, being pulled deeper and deeper into the sea, watching the last vestiges of light flee, blocked out by storm clouds and driftwood... there was no life in sight. Not a single whale or dolphin or fish—spread out before him was a desolate expanse of darkness.
The only creature present besides him was the kraken pulling him down into the depths, its tentacle wound tightly around Arthur's waist.
He was losing air quickly; the further down he was dragged, the more the pressure on his lungs increased—the more frantically he tried to free himself so that he'd be able to get back to the surface before it was too late. Struggling didn’t work. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the creature’s grasp.
It wasn’t not until something dug into his hip that Arthur realised he still had his dagger on him. He managed to manoeuvre one hand in between the tentacle and his own body and pull it out of its sheath. He pulled his arm back, then swung forward, and—
—and stabbing the creature didn't do anything. The surrounding water prevented Arthur from using as much force as he would have liked. He barely managed to penetrate the kraken's thick skin.
It was hopeless. This whole situation had been hopeless from the start, since the moment he’d realised the ship was under attack. He was going to die, to drown just like his mother had. Captain Arthur Pendragon, brought down by a mythical monster while trying to get a merman back home. That would be a story for the ages, assuming anyone would still be alive to tell it.
The only thing that gave him comfort anymore was the knowledge that whatever happened, at least Merlin would be safe. Out of all of them, he was the only one able to breathe underwater. As long as the kraken left him alone, he would make it out alive and—with a bit of luck—unharmed.
The rest of his crew was as good as dead. What kind of captain was he, bringing them into danger like this?
Logically, he knew that it was impossible for him to have predicted something like this happening, but looking back...
All the signs had been there, hadn’t they? The frequent storms that had only started after Merlin's capture, the things Merlin had said when he was swearing at him... He'd obviously known about the creature's existence beforehand, though maybe he, like Arthur, had considered it nothing more than a myth. Merlin had looked as shocked as anyone when he’d realised what it was that was attacking them.
No, he hadn't known this would happen either. Merlin might not be human, but he'd made friends with quite a few—almost became more than friends with Arthur. He would have warned them had he known what was going to happen.
Something flickered overhead, a shadow of some sort. Arthur's first thought was that the ship had begun sinking, but it was too soon for that. He would have assumed it to be driftwood, but then the shadow moved again. In the meagre light, Arthur could just barely make out a long, powerful tail and a humanoid torso.
For a second, he desperately wanted to call out to Merlin, to get him here, to bring him closer. He stopped himself before he could, but it took more effort than he would have liked. Opening his mouth now would only rid him of whatever air remained in his lungs, and it would likely draw the creature's attention to Merlin, which was the last thing either of them needed.
Arthur was going to be dead within minutes, no matter what. There was no saving him, nothing anyone could do, not against a creature this size. He would be damned if he took Merlin down with him.
So he stayed silent, watching resignedly as Merlin swam around, unaware of his presence. Each time Merlin turned in his direction, Arthur's pulse jumped thinking that maybe he wouldn't be alone, after all. Maybe he would be fortunate enough to die in the arms of someone he loved.
Those thoughts kept coming back, no matter how hard Arthur tried to chase them away. He didn't even realise he was still holding onto hope until Merlin finally turned around and swam away, leaving behind only ripples that Arthur could feel brushing over his skin.
Arthur fought the urge to gasp for breath until he could fight it no longer. Air bubbled at his lips and rushed upwards, headed for the surface that was his home—a home he would never see again. He’d wondered what it would be like a few times, living in the sea, never having to worry about coming up for air.
The idea had come and gone, nothing more than a childish fantasy. After all, who would have expected it to be possible for humanoid life forms to survive underwater, when no more than two minutes spent in it had Arthur's lungs burning.
Maybe in another life, he could have been born a merman himself. There would not have been anything to keep him from Merlin, then; nothing to stop them from being together.
They could have been happy.
Happy?
The word echoed around him, swept through him. Arthur distantly wondered whether he imagined it, if it was a hallucination of some sort conjured up by his oxygen-deprived brain.
With merman? Human?
Arthur's struggles weakened and stopped; he dropped the dagger. He gasped, unable to hold back any longer, filling his lungs with water rather than air. They contracted in his chest, trying to cough the liquid back up, but there was no air to replace it with.
"Yes," he thought, since it was impossible to speak through the burning pain in his chest. "With Merlin."
Merlin.
He was having a conversation with himself on his deathbed, wasn't he? He couldn't actually be speaking with the creature that was drowning him—that would be the height of absurdity! Though maybe 'speaking' wasn’t the appropriate term. The words that he heard, they didn't feel like they were being spoken. It didn't feel like he was hearing them, but rather like they were bypassing his ears and appearing in his head.
The kraken must be able to hear his thoughts. The grip it had on him momentarily tightened, then went lax and Arthur was released. He blinked reflexively, shocked.
But it was too late now; he was far too weak and in no state to swim back to the surface and save himself.
He really was going to die here, wasn't he? His father wouldn't get a body to bury, not even if Merlin decided to come searching for one once it was all over. Arthur would end up sinking to the bottom of the sea, nothing more than fodder for the fish and numerous other creatures that lived there.
And so would his crew.
The next time Arthur closed his eyes, he didn't open them again.
~oOo~
When Arthur awoke, he had no idea where he was. The darkness, the emptiness, the cold... it all seemed familiar, somehow, but he couldn't place it. It took more effort than usual to turn his head, as if the air around him had grown denser. Arthur tried lifting his foot, wanting to take a step forward, but—
—his legs weren't there.
Alarmed, Arthur reached towards the... the tail, of all things! It was cool to the touch and scaly, yet smoother than Merlin's. He bent forward, trailing his fingers down the length of it until he ended up at the fin. It, too, was different than Merlin's. Arthur had expected something sharper, more jagged, but the fin was the opposite of that—each spine had a soft, curved edge to it. He couldn't make out any colours, not with how dark it was at the bottom of the sea—and God, he really was at the bottom of the sea, wasn't he?
His ship had wrecked, hadn't it? He could distinctly recall something terrible happening, remembered being caught and dragged deep into the ocean, but...
Arthur inhaled sharply, momentarily forgetting that he was underwater, but the expected coughing fit didn't come. Never would come, probably; not until he needed to expel the water and replace it with air. A gentle touch to the side of his neck was enough to confirm he had gills now.
The dread he'd felt while drowning wouldn't leave despite knowing he was fine now, would be fine now. The monster that had pulled him in was nowhere to be seen. He was safe.
Well, as safe as he could be.
He needed to leave, though that was easier said than done considering Arthur had no idea which way was up. Hesitantly, he pushed his arms through the water, trying to propel himself forward, but barely managed to make any progress at all. Swishing his tail from side to side didn't help. Closing his eyes, Arthur tried to picture how Merlin moved when he swam. He'd not had much occasion to see him in the water, but there was that time in England...
It took, at a very rough estimate, over an hour for him to figure out how to actually swim in this form. Fish, whales, Merlin—they all made it look so easy, so effortless, and yet it was anything but.
The first thing he did was head for the surface—though that was more of an accident than intent on his part. Thankfully, it seemed that Arthur's body was much more attuned to his surroundings than he was and he ended up swimming in the right direction.
When he broke the surface of the water, Arthur finally coughed out all the water he'd inhaled and took a breath of air. His gills sank back against his neck, allowing him to make proper use of his lungs.
Even in the dim moonlight, Arthur could make out the floating debris. It was everywhere, covering so much of the sea surface that he was surprised he'd managed to avoid hitting his head coming up. The ship must have sunk far beneath the waves by now, and he couldn't see a single member of his crew. The bodies wouldn’t have sunk; the fact that he couldn’t see a single one gave him hope that his men were alive.
That, or the monster had eaten them whole. He strongly hoped it wasn’t the latter.
Arthur slowly looked around, searching for... well, he didn't exactly know what it was he was looking for. Maybe a sign of some sort to indicate someone had survived this disaster. Maybe for a trace of Merlin.
He tried to ignore how his heart constricted at the thought that he would never see Merlin again, which was silly, considering that that had been the whole point of the trip to begin with. Closing his eyes, Arthur took a deep breath.
Surely, there must have been some survivors—a lucky few who'd managed to save themselves. They... they would have tried to find land, first. If Merlin had helped them, as Arthur fervently hoped he had—he could have gone with them. Perhaps not all hope was lost.
Over the last few days, Arthur had gone over every map he had of this area numerous times. So many, in fact, that he was confident he could recreate them in his sleep. For someone as well-versed as he in navigation, it took no time at all to orient himself and deduce the general location of a nearby island.
Getting there, though—that was the hard part, and once again, it took him more time than he would have liked. He lost count of how many times he had to stop to make sure he was still on course. Distantly, he wondered how merfolk navigated. Surely there had to be a better way for orienting oneself than by using the position of the stars in the night sky?
Maybe, when Arthur finally found him, Merlin could teach him?
Arthur shook those thoughts from his head—right now, the only thing he needed to focus on was getting to the island while he could still see the stars. It had been slowly getting lighter over the past half-hour; he needed to hurry and get as close as he could.
Arthur was used to hard labour, but all the swimming still made his muscles ache. Whatever magic had allowed him to take on this form obviously hadn't taken into account the fact that he would need more muscle mass now that he had to swim rather than walk. He'd never felt so tired in his life—though, granted, exhaustion was likely more mental than physical.
When Arthur finally came up for air and caught sight of the island in the sparse, early morning light, he could have wept for joy. Using the last of his energy reserves—and good God he was hungry—Arthur propelled himself through the water, intent on getting there as quickly as possible.
His heart was pounding in his chest, threatening to break through his ribs. This was it. If anyone survived the shipwreck, they would have ended up here. The sooner Arthur got there, the sooner he would find out which of his crewmen—if any—were still alive.
The sooner he got to the island, the sooner he would find out whether Merlin was there.
Had Arthur still been human, he would have been panting for breath by the time he got close enough to see anything. Not that he could actually see much, mind. The beach he found, while covered in footprints, was void of people. It was impossible to tell whether the tracks had been made by anyone he knew.
Even if it was his crew that had left them, they had likely moved further inland for the night. Had Arthur been in their shoes, that would be where he would have gone to search for shelter. Unfortunately, it also meant that he was unlikely to see any trace of them until dawn, when someone would hopefully come out in search of food.
Disheartened, Arthur dove back into the water. Maybe if he swam around the island, he'd find a more sheltered area, and, with a bit of luck, one of his men. One. Just one single human would be enough. He needed to find out if anyone survived, though Arthur's state would no doubt come as a shock to whoever saw him. Just the thought of his own people going after him like they'd—like he'd—gone after Merlin made him want to stay out of their way, but...
But these were his men. He was their captain, no matter the form he took. He had a responsibility to look out for them. Arthur had failed them once, and he was adamant he wouldn't do so again. And right now, to fulfil the promise he'd made to them when they'd set out, he needed information.
If only he could find out how many were still alive, he could, with a bit of luck, try to scrounge up a ship to take them home. It... well, it wouldn't be easy, that was for sure, but he would do it nevertheless. He owed them that much.
When a sudden noise—a deep, low hum—echoed through the water, Arthur came to an abrupt stop. The sound... it seemed familiar, somehow. Like he'd heard it before, or a variation of it anyway. It sounded not unlike what he imagined a snore to sound like underwater. Hesitantly, Arthur swam in the direction it had come from, fully intent on finding out what had caused it.
He could barely make out the figure lying atop the bed of seaweed at first. The light down here was so sparse that until his eyes adjusted properly, the only things Arthur saw were general shapes and colours.
Green seaweed. A long, twining shape of blue and gold. A wide expanse of a cream so pale it was nearly white. A shock of black that looked to be moving in the water.
Arthur didn't need his eyes to adjust for him to know what, or rather who he was looking at.
He’d found Merlin.