Chapter Text
Aegon likes humans. They taste good and they are fun to watch.
A drunk bellows some tuneless shanty, lurching with each swig from his clay vessel. Nearby, two sailors hunch over a game, moving wooden pieces back and forth. Aegon's been watching for weeks and still doesn't understand it. But he knows the important part: whoever wins gets coins.
Coins are everything to humans. Aegon saw a woman pick her mate because of coins once. The man showed her his coins, she nodded, and that was it. Decided. Among Aegon's kind, you have to earn the right to choose and be chosen. You prove yourself worthy or you remain alone. The offspring must be strong. His mother would be disgusted by human customs.
She’d be equally horrified by his presence here. The harbor is a killing ground for sirens. Every boat bristles with nets. Sentries never stop scanning the water for the telltale shimmer of scales, hands tight on their spears, waiting for an attack. Some of the warships anchored here exist for one purpose only: hunting merfolk.
Aegon isn't scared, though. He's a singer.
Not a fighter like Aemond, not a chaser like Daeron. He doesn’t need all those muscles and sharp teeth. All Aegon has to do is poke his head out of the water and sing. The humans just...stop. Stop thinking. Stop being. They stumble toward him, eyes glazed with desperate hunger, whether for his kiss or his embrace, he can't say. Not that it matters. They never reach him.
Most drown. The ones that don’t, or snap out of it, get grabbed by their fighters and pulled under, torn apart, their flesh eventually fed to Aegon.
And Aegon isn't just any singer. He is royalty.
The Targaryen bloodline has carried the strongest voices for generations uncounted, voices powerful enough to shatter human reason, to pierce through every desperate invention they devise against his kind. The stuff they press into their ears until the canals bleed. The iron helmets they bolt across their skulls. None of it matters. A Targaryen voice cuts through metal and flesh and bone alike. His sister Helaena is a singer too, her voice sweet and haunting. But Aegon is older, his voice deeper, richer, dark as the ocean trenches. His scales are prettier too, pale pink that catches light like mother-of-pearl, scattered with flecks of gold that gleam when he moves. He is the most precious thing the merfolk have, his colony’s proudest treasure.
As the highest-ranked singer, he has all the freedom he wants. And what he wants is to float here in the humans' filthy harbor, suspended in their murky, waste-thick water, watching them drink and fight and fuck, sing their terrible songs and more than anything, wish he could join them.
The irony is that Aegon was never meant to be their colony's primary singer. Never meant to rule. That destiny was written for his half-sister Rhaenyra. She had scales like living flame, fiery reds bleeding into molten yellows, mesmerizing, so utterly unlike Aegon's soft pastels. Even as a teenager, barely grown into her full power, she could send entire warships splintering against the rocks with a single verse. Their colony had grown fat and fearless in those years. They didn't have to be cautious when they hunted the humans. They didn't have to hide.
But then Rhaenyra disappeared one morning.
Some say she became human. That her curiosity about the land grew so overwhelming, her power so vast, that she shed her membrane for good one night and walked away into the human world.
His mother tells a different story. She says Rhaenyra got caught. That human nets dragged her up thrashing and screaming. That she died a painful death, carved apart while her heart still beat, her beautiful scales pried off one by one.
Aegon can't help but envy her. Not the dying part. The possibility that maybe, just maybe, the rumors are true. He wishes he was powerful enough to survive on land for longer than a few hours.
He'd be the best human. Better than any of them.
-
There it is again. Poking its head out of the water.
Jace has been watching for the stupid creature, wondering what it's doing so close to the harbor. A dumb thing, with how easy it is to spot against the dark water.
He's seen it before, surfacing once in a while late at night, always near the tavern by the sea, watching the drunks. He's even heard it giggle, a high, delighted sound that made his skin crawl. It's a wonder no one else has spotted it yet and struck the alarm bell. The moment someone does, the whole harbor will turn into a death trap.
The sirens are the biggest threat their Realm faces. There's a massive population of them along the coastlines, attacking fishermen, merchants, warships. No one is safe from the deadly creatures. So when humans get their hands on one, it always ends the same way: dead. Tortured first, usually (people need to vent their rage after all.) Then hung up on the docks and left to dry to death while crowds gather to jeer and celebrate.
Jace should sound the alarm. He knows that. But the creature has such a cute face. And that hair... Maybe it's been cast out by its own kind, exiled for some crime. Maybe it's just hungry, eating the fish scraps the fishermen toss into the water at day's end.
He's never seen one behave like this before. So peaceful. Just watching instead of lunging for their throats. If only he could get closer. See it properly instead of glimpsing it from afar.
Jace tries to watch it subtly, stepping carefully along the quay, moving slowly so as not to startle it. He's only ever observed it from a distance. A male, he thinks, though he's not entirely sure.
Their eyes meet.
The creature looks stunned, its eyes widening, and immediately it disappears beneath the water.
Damn it.
He'll have to think of something if he really wants to catch it.
-
Aegon has a friend. A special human friend.
Usually humans scream and attack his kind on sight. But this one is different.
It started a few weeks ago. The human put the game, the one Aegon is so interested in, with the wooden pieces, close to the pier where Aegon likes to watch people. Put a fish for Aegon next to it. Even some coins, showing him how the game works by moving the pieces slowly.
It's fun to play.
And Aegon always gets to eat some pretty tasty fish when they’re done. He isn't always sure if he plays it right, but he knows it's his win when the handsome human puts a coin next to the fish along with an approving nod.
At first, Aegon only moved a piece when the human was far away, distracted, busy tending his boat or mending nets. He'd wait until the human's back was turned, then dart forward, nudge a random piece, and vanish back into the water.
Just in case.
But the human never got scared, never called for the others.
Maybe it’s dumb.
The human often takes his boat out past the harbor, into open water where it's just the two of them. Out here, Aegon could kill him immediately if he wanted to. Easy. No need to sing a whole town to their demise. Just one quick pull and it would be over.
He does plan to eat him eventually.
The human is so pretty. Those soft brown curls that catch the sunlight. That big, easy smile that makes Aegon's face feel warm. He would surely taste so good. But Aegon wants to take his time. Understand the game properly first. And he wants to try that drink, the amber liquid the human sips from.
Things between them have grown easier. Aegon doesn't hide anymore. He pulls himself up openly on the side of the boat, grips the worn wood and hauls his torso over the edge to reach the board. The human doesn't flinch. Just watches, smiles, sometimes laughs.
Today, though, Aegon wants more.
He has used his legs once before. On a small island, years ago, just to see what it felt like.
When he breaches the water completely and leaves the sea behind, his body shifts automatically. The change is instant. He stops breathing through the slitted gills at his neck and starts pulling air through his nose instead. His tail, the thin membrane that fans out from slits along his legs and hips, folds itself away and his two legs appear.
Merfolk rarely retract their membranes to walk. They do it solely to mate.
Siren mating works differently than human mating. Any of them can sire or carry offspring, regardless of whether they're male or female. In some colonies, it's custom for the dominant one to bite off their partner's cock to mark their position as the carrier, but Aegon's colony finds that barbaric. His people like to switch, taking turns carrying the children. Aegon finds it fascinating that humans are so limited in that aspect.
Retracting his membrane without any intention to mate feels slightly wrong, like he's doing something indecent. But the moment he hauls himself over the edge and sprawls onto the boat, feet placed unsteadily on the wooden deck, it's all worth it.
His human looks pleasantly surprised. Shocked, maybe, but in a good way. Eyes wide, mouth open.
He is also bright enough not to come closer or scream. Good. If it screamed, Aegon would bite its head off for the annoying noise.
“My name is Jace,” his human says. He is back to mending a net, fingers working through the knots, not even looking as Aegon explores the boat.
It's fun being on one instead of just sinking it. He feels wobbly walking around, his legs aren't quite steady yet, but he only stumbles twice before he reaches the barrel where the fisherman keeps the good fish. The ones that are hard to catch even for a skilled chaser like Daeron. Aegon pulls out a fine fat one and bites its head off. The crunch is satisfying.
“Jace,” Aegon echoes, sounding the name out carefully. He's not as fluent as Aemond at speaking the human language, but his mother and grandfather forced him to learn it. Made him practice again and again until the words stuck. It sounds a little rusty coming out of his mouth, but he knows how to speak it well enough.
The fisherman looks up at that. Smiles at him, bright and utterly unafraid.
Aegon should just eat him. Instead, he introduces himself too.
“I'm Aegon.”
-
The siren has the prettiest tail Jace has ever seen.
A singer. He knew it the moment he saw those brilliant scales up close.
Most of them have dark scales, murky greens and deep blues like the water, camouflaged and near-invisible. During an attack, finding the singer and killing it means the difference between survival and death. The wax plugs soldiers jam into their ears, the heavy cushioned iron helmets they strap across their skulls, none of it offers guaranteed protection against a truly powerful voice. And the prettier the scales, the stronger the song. It's an old truth, reliable as the tides. This one, draped in rose and gold, must be dangerous. Devastatingly so.
It didn't take long for the creature to trust him. Playing games had been exactly the right approach. It's a curious thing, endlessly fascinated by human pastimes.
Jace wants it all for himself.
Far away from others who might scare it off or hurt it. He makes sure to fish only where no sane fisherman would steer his boat. Waters so deep that no one ventures there without soldiers standing guard against attacks. Not that Jace is worried. His heritage has made him bold in ways other men can never understand. And he knows siren hunting patterns, they favor reefs and rocky shallows where they can dash ships to pieces. These empty, bottomless waters are safer than most would believe.
Jace is still a little stunned when, after only a few weeks of their careful game, the siren suddenly pulls itself right onto his boat. The tail disappears, thin membrane retracting in one smooth motion and suddenly there are legs, milky white and human-shaped.
He's absolutely gorgeous.
A naked body that could almost pass for human male, almost but not quite. The differences mark him as something else entirely: gills slitted along his neck, opening and closing as he adjusts to breathing air. Small fangs just visible behind his lips. Delicate webbing stretched between each finger, fingernails sharp as razors. His legs appear normal at first glance, but then Jace sees the slits, thin seams running from the outer ankles all the way up the sides of his calves and thighs to his hips. They stay slightly parted, revealing glimpses of the folded membrane tucked inside, pink and fragile-looking.
He has to play this carefully now.
Can't let his fascination show, can't let him see how badly he wants to reach out and touch. Run his fingers along that naked wet skin, trace those shimmering slits. He forces himself to keep mending his net, pretending it's just another day.
“My name is Jace.”
-
Jace reads to him sometimes. He has so many books, filled with funny stories and beautiful illustrations that make Aegon lean in close to see better. They always end up laughing together, Aegon at the ridiculous human tales, Jace at how delighted the siren gets.
Aegon wishes he could share his stories the same way. Pull him down beneath the waves to see the huge carvings the merfolk has made into stone. As a Targaryen, he knows all the sacred places, the hidden caves where the best ones are.
He could show Jace everything.
Except Jace would drown, which would ruin it.
He brings Jace gifts to share his world in another way. The prettiest pebbles and sea shells, polished smooth by the currents. He has access to the most valuable ones, rare colors, perfect spirals, ones that shimmer just right. Jace is so grateful he seems unable to express it, just holds them carefully and stares. Understandable. They're much more valuable than his coins. Jace could make a necklace out of them, or a hair piece like the ones Aegon wears for ceremonies. Aegon has many such treasures back home. He tells Jace as much. Impressing his human has become a habit he is far too fond of.
There are only a few pages of today's book left when the first raindrops fall. Aegon had known the storm was coming hours ago, felt it, but his human looks troubled.
“I need to go below,” Jace says, already closing the book. “Rain will ruin the pages. The ink bleeds and the paper falls apart when it gets wet.” He glances up at the darkening sky, then back at Aegon. “And I’ll be sick for days if I stay out in a storm like this.”
He reaches for Aegon's hand tentatively. “You could come down with me. To my cabin. There are other things I could show you. I have a bed. Those are soft and warm. Very different from always being in cold water.”
Aegon jerks his hand back instinctively.
He considers the offer, frowning, eyeing the hatch that leads below deck. It's not a big ship. But he doesn't like the idea of being surrounded by wood on all sides.
“No.”
Jace looks sad at that.
For reasons Aegon doesn't fully understand himself, he leans forward and presses his mouth against Jace's. He licks inside, tasting the warmth of the human's mouth. So different compared to everything Aegon knows. Jace makes a soft sound and his hand comes up to cup Aegon's jaw, gentle, and the siren licks deeper, exploring the heat of him, the strange smooth texture of human teeth.
The urge to bite down surges through him, to feel sweet, delicious blood fill his mouth, finally taste his human. But he doesn't. Aegon pulls back instead, turns, and dives into the water before Jace can react.
His face feels hot, burning. His body feels strange, tight and restless.
Why did he do that?
He tries not to think about it too hard. So what if he wants to mate with a human. Doesn't mean he won't eat him after. It should be fine then.
He won't be able to come back for a while anyway. Aemond has been getting angrier and angrier about Aegon disappearing so often, accusing him of shirking his duties. And their uncle, who commands the eastern colonies, announced they're sinking a fleet soon. The humans are getting too bold with their attacks, pushing deeper into merfolk territory. It's time to remind them who the ocean belongs to.
Jace is just a fisherman with a small boat.
He should be safe. No need to worry.
-
Jace is happy, so stupidly, helplessly gone he can't stop replaying that kiss. But he's furious with himself too.
He couldn't do it. Again. He couldn't pull through.
He's a coward. Completely incapable of acting when the sole object of his desire smiles at him.
Next time will be different. Next time he won't let sentiment get in the way.
Except there is no next time. Aegon hasn't appeared near the harbor or at their meeting spot for weeks. Nothing. Just empty sea and Jace's growing frustration.
The siren must be busy. Jace keeps hearing of attacks. Devastating ones, all up and down the coastline. Ships sinking, entire crews disappearing. Their families still searching the beaches for bodies that will never wash ashore. And last week, the eastern kingdom's war fleet, twenty-five ships strong, armed to the teeth, was obliterated in open water. Witnesses from a passing trade ship said the sea itself turned red.
Probably just sailor's yarn, but the smallfolk is paralyzed with terror. The docks sit nearly empty during the day, boats tied up and abandoned. People cross themselves when they look at the water, whisper prayers to gods who clearly aren't listening. No one fishes anymore unless starvation forces them to.
They watch Jace with suspicion and bewilderment when he takes his boat out again and again, completely undeterred. He's become something of a local mystery. Some think he must be a former soldier, his mind broken by war, no longer capable of fear. Others have decided he's a boy from a neighboring town, made suicidal with grief after losing his beloved to the sea, hoping to join her in death.
It would become a serious problem if someone were to recognize him.
But he's not leaving this godforsaken, salt-stained fishing town. Not without the reason he stayed so long in the first place.
“Why is it so empty tonight? Where is everyone?” Jace asks after taking his usual seat at the tavern. After an entire day of fruitless waiting at sea, he'd been looking forward to the familiar noise and warmth. But the place is practically deserted, just a few old men in the corner.
“Oh, they caught one!” Miranda tells him excitedly, already pouring his beer. “Right near the piers, if you can believe it. Bold thing, swimming that close. My cousin Darin was the one who spotted it during his watch. Can you imagine? We're all so proud. I’m sure he’ll be honored.”
He can’t breathe.
It’s like everything inside him has been carved out, leaving nothing but a void and the sound of his own thundering heartbeat in his ears.
“Where is it?”
“At the town square. They nailed the devil to a wooden stake, put it right on display where everyone can see. It's probably screaming in agony by now, they can't survive out of water for long. The guards say it'll be dead by morning.”
She leans in conspiratorially, like she's sharing gossip. “We're not allowed to kill it outright, but you can poke it with something sharp if you slip the guards a few coins. Lilia, poor thing, her father was one of the ones lost, she paid good money to shove a hot poker into one of its holes. She came back saying it was disgusting, how they've got everything down there. A cock, a vagina, and a hole. All three! Revolting. Honestly, I hope it suffers. After what they've been doing to our people, it deserves every bit of pain…”
Jace doesn't hear the rest.
The words wash over him, meaningless sounds. He fumbles coins onto the counter, too many, not enough, he doesn't know, doesn't care, and stands. His body moves automatically, legs carrying him toward the door, toward the square.
He doesn't feel anything. Or maybe he does. Despair comes close.
It’s like he is hollow. Empty inside.
He thinks of Aegon's laugh, bright and delighted over something small. How excited he'd been when Jace offered him wine. How he'd wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell but was still so intrigued, so determined to try it. The face he'd made at the first sip, sour and confused, before deciding he wanted more anyway.
Jace walks faster. Then he's running.
A crowd has gathered, packed so tightly Jace can barely see past them. All of them wanting to see the captured siren. He shoves through them, not caring who he elbows aside, his mind already racing ahead: he'll ride to the capital, get the king's guard, have this entire stupid town burned to the ground and everyone in it executed for –
He looks up, expecting shoulder-length white hair, wavy and soft. Big eyes, terrified and streaming with tears.
Red.
The hair is red.
He blinks, scared for a moment that it's just blood staining pale hair. But no, it's all wrong. The hair is short, barely past the ears. The body is wrong too. Heavily muscled, powerful shoulders, built like a warrior. Built like Jace's own father, not like his Aegon. A male by the flat chest, and absolutely enraged, foam flecking its lips as it snarls at the watching crowd, fighting against the iron nails through its wrists. Blood and pus ooze from the slits running along his legs, the delicate membrane inside already drying out and slowly falling off.
A laugh bursts out of Jace.
Relief floods through him so violently he has to lock his knees to stay upright.
That's not his siren.