Chapter Text
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Captain Vassago thought he'd seen everything in his two decades at sea. He'd lived through shipwrecks and mutinies and fights to the death. He stayed in his quarters more often than not now, letting his reputation proceed him. It was easier than dealing with the nonsense that seemed to crop up when a dozen men occupied the same space for months on end.
He still kept his ship in top shape, inspected it twice a day, and fixed smaller issues himself if he had to. The great amount of knowledge he had was enough by itself to inspire awe in the younger sailors.
His crew knew not to bother him after dinner unless it was really important, which was how he knew it WAS something important when he heard a tap at his door when he was about to settle in for the night.
It was a young sailor, Carlos, a scrap of a boy who had no parents that they picked up in port a few months back. The boy trembled slightly as he stared at him.
“I won't hurt you—if you have a reason to be here,” Vassago told him with a wolfish grin. He twirled one of his knives with a flourish and tossed it. It stuck it firmly in the wall. That had the expected effect of making the boy flinch.
“I think it's really scared,” Carlos blurted out quickly.
Vassago retrieved his knife, his brow knitting in confusion as he tossed a wayward lock of henna dyed hair out of his eyes. “What is?” He asked.
“The—oh,” the boy's eyes got impossibly large.
Vassago stood. He wasn't an especially tall man, but the boots he wore and the way he carried himself did a lot of work for him. Carlos shrunk back as he approached. “Do we have a stowaway?” Vassago asked with a frown as he swept by him and into the corridor. He expected his crew to tell him such things. The fact that he wasn't approached meant he was going to have to dole out reprimands to whoever was involved. He didn't know why the knowledge of a stowaway would have been kept from him unless…
Unless it was a woman.
His eyes widened and he broke into a run.
-
Even as he followed the hum of his crew's voices down to the smaller hold he knew it couldn't be a woman. The cabin boy following him had said “it”. He was wildly confused, right until he heard an unearthly screech. That sound didn’t belong to any human at all.
Some kind of animal, he decided, as he flung open the door.
It was his first mate and four others, gathered around the corner of the room, hidden by barrels and crates. “What the devil is going on down here!” He demanded to know, hand firm on the hilt of his short sword.
There was absolute silence in reply. Every man looked guilty as they peered at him over the barrels and reluctantly shuffled aside. Vassago frowned as he stepped past them to see what was in the corner.
His mouth fell open in shock. He had spent the better part of two decades at sea, but he had never ever seen a mermaid before. Or… man… animal? Whatever this thing was.
The poor wretched creature was tied to a post. Inhuman eyes with pale blue scleras and white where his pupils would be peered up at him. Even with the strange eyes, the fear on the creature's face was obvious.
He strode towards it. The shout from his first mate came too late. The creature lashed out, its tail delivering a powerful blow, sending him crashing back into a pair of barrels.
“That's enough,” his first mate Marcus drew his rapier and stabbed it through the fluke of the merperson’s tail. The mercreature let out a blood curdling shriek.
“No!” Vassago acted much without thinking, and without caution either. He jumped up and grabbed the weapon from Marcus’ hand, yanking it out of the tail. The creature thrashed, and strange black blood dotted the room. He shoved the rapier none too kindly towards the other man's chest. “Out,” he ordered everyone in the room. “Jonas, stay.”
Jonas was one of his youngest crewmen, a man who he had handpicked and trained from a young age. He paled considerably. Vassago paid him no mind, much more occupied with shrugging his jacket off and wrapping it around that volatile tail, kneeling on the flukes to stop it from hitting him.
He barely waited until they were alone. “Why wasn't I told about this?” Vassago demanded to know. He patted the creature above his flukes as it cooperated and still in order to allow Vassago to wrap the wound.
“He knows who you are,” Jonas said quickly. “He said your name.”
Vassago didn't miss how the creature made a sound of protest at that. Vassago raised his head.
The creature was part bird as well as a man and a fish, he decided, as he took in his face that ended in a small beak and disheveled feathers that swept back as if it were hair.
“We wanted to know why it was here. It’s a demon, it’ll curse the ship!” Jonas sounded stubborn.
“Ugh, I'm not going to curse anything.” The creature huffed and Vassago blinked in shock. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the creature speaking in English with an aristocratic air was not it. “If I could, I would have done it the moment you brought me into this horrible little room!”
“Yer a bad omen!” Jonas returned in broken English.
“It's not my fault you have no imagination,” the creature snipped back at him.
“That's enough, Jonas, leave,” Vassago said in their own language, trying his best not to smile. He watched as his last crewmate scampered away. Sobering, he turned back to his captive, standing back so he didn't get hit by his tail again. It—he? had gone silent and was watching him warily.
“What are you?” Vassago asked finally in the creature's own language.
“I have no idea anymore,” the creature glanced down at himself. “Something rather hideous.”
That was not true in the slightest. He was beautiful, whatever he was. He made a show of looking him up and down, which if he wasn't mistaken that made the creature blush a pale blue on his cheeks.
“Why are you here?” Vassago continued.
“Your men dragged me down here.” It looked disgruntled at his questions.
Vassago stifled a smile and began to pace. “I meant on this ship.”
The creature rolled his eyes. “I got trapped in your fishing nets, if you must know, and I was taken out of the water before I could free myself.”
“How do you know my name,” Vassago pressed on.
“It was a guess,” the creature returned. “I live in the ocean, there are only so many ships that look like yours. You are the captain of this ship, aren't you?”
He was. He was about to ask the creature if it was going to curse them in the future and thought better of it. If it was going to happen, there wasn't much he could do about it. “What is your name?” he asked.
For some reason that made the creature look wary, his shoulders hunching in on themselves. “Andre,” he replied. He drew in a breath and slapped his bundled flukes against the wooden floorboards. “Captain Vassago,” there was something glittering in that cold gaze. “Such an interesting name,” he clicked his tongue. “Isn’t that a demon’s name? Perhaps I'm not the only cursed creature here.”
Vassago felt both a flush rise to his cheeks and faint awe as well. “How does a sea creature read human books?” he asked. “My name is from a book my father had in his library,” he continued when Andre looked slightly confused. “I was born Vincente.”
“So you named yourself after a great demon prince,” the way Andre spat that out with far more venom than he expected startled Vassago.
“It is just a name,” Vassago replied. Andre glowered, then dropped his gaze.
The mer-creature didn't seem interested in continuing on, so Vassago got to his feet. He took out his knife, which had Andre recoiling in fear. Vassago held out his hand in hopes of calming him. “I won’t hurt you. I just want to untie you.”
“And, then what?” Andre snapped at him.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Vassago confessed truthfully. “May I?”
It took what looked like considerable effort on Andre’s part to calm himself. Andre sat perfectly still, his strange eyes never left him for an instant as Vassago approached him the rest of the way and cut the ropes that bound his hands.
-
He half expected Andre to attack him the moment he was freed, and he’d have another fight on his hands. Instead Andre slumped to the side, breathing hard, rubbing his sore wrists as his gills fluttered. When he didn’t move but his breathing continued to be labored, Vassago stepped closer. “Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.
“My magic doesn't work here,” Andre admitted. His eyes then widened as he seemed to realize what he had confessed. “Don't… don't get any ideas,” he added quickly, his eyes narrowing.
Vassago chuckled and shook his head, then held out his hands again. “Can I touch you?” he asked.
That got two raised eyebrows. “I'd prefer better—and wetter surroundings before we do anything like that,” he sniffed.
Vassago nearly recoiled in shock, and only age and experience allowed him to quell most of his reaction. “Not…” he cleared his throat, glancing down where the scales on his torso met his smooth blueish white flesh. There was nothing there that he could see, except the pale scales that made up his tail… when he looked back up Andre was smirking at him. He slapped his tail against the wooden boards of the floor, almost mockingly. “I meant to carry you,” Vassago concluded in a calmer voice. “As I don't think you can walk.”
“Oh,” Andre gave him a sour look. “I don't exactly have feet, do I?”
He certainly did not. Vassago skirted around Andre as the mercreature watched him warily. He slid his arms under his back and where the bend in his tail resided and lifted him up.
Andre was lighter than he expected, not quite the full weight of a grown man. Gills fluttering again, the creature wrapped his arms around his neck and settled his head against his shoulder, resigned, it seemed, to be at the sea captain's mercy.
Vassago was well aware of how unwieldy a much smaller fish could be and kept his grip tight as he made his way through the ship. His men, wisely, had made themselves scarce.
Carlos was waiting outside his captain's quarters, pale faced but curious, eyes darting to Andre and back again.
“Bring me a few buckets of sea water,” Vassago instructed as the boy opened his door for him. “Leave them outside for me,” he added.
Carlos nodded and scampered off into the dark as Vassago kicked the door behind him closed again.
His cabin was dimly lit with lanterns, some having gone out for the night. The dim light was barely enough to see, and gave a surreal glow to the surroundings.
He put Andre down in his personal bathtub in the washing corner of his quarters. The creature blinked at him, then sighed and sunk down against the painted iron.
“I'll be right back,” Vassago said gently. Andre closed his eyes and waved his hand in the air like he didn't particularly care what Vassago got up to.
-
There were two buckets of sea water outside his door when he went out to check. Those he hauled back to the tub.
He picked up one of the buckets and Andre opened his eyes again to watch as the captain tipped it over, allowing the water to splash over Andre's torso and tail.
Vassago gasped as the scales of Andre's tail lit up in a blueish glow as the liquid touched it. “How?” he began.
The groan Andre let out was nearly sinful. “Don't stop,” he said, his head falling back against the rim of the tub.
“Alright,” obediently Vassago continued to pour the water over him, fascinated at the flashing lights and colors. Once wet, the scales remained faintly glowing even when his pouring ceased at the end of the bucket’s contents. Distantly, he was aware of the threat Andre held.
“You're not going to curse me, are you?” Vassago asked, putting down the empty bucket and picking up the next.
Andre smirked at him as he poured the second pail over him and into the tub. “Tell you what. I'll skip all that cursing nonsense if you touch me,” he said. He reached out, coasting his fingers over Vassago's worn knuckles. “Put those talented fingers to good use…” Andre's voice dropped considerably.
Vassago cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up. He was used to being propositioned in port, but this was new. He didn't even know what Andre was.
Vassago carefully put down the bucket and looked at the creature, at his half lidded inhuman eyes and the faint blush on his cheeks.
“We've just met,” Vassago pointed out with mild humor in his voice.
“Perhaps,” Andre replied. He trailed his hand down his own torso to where the pale flesh met scales, and then dipped lower. Vassago could see then, in the low flickering light, that there was a seam, slightly parting scales there, that pulled away a little more as he rubbed his hand along it. A finger slid inside, and Andre gasped softly, the lights of his tail flickering again as that finger started moving at a gentle rhythm. Vassago stared, transfixed as the creature worked himself into a panting frenzy of need.
“I want you,” Andre said, sharp teeth flashing as the finger retreated. “Please.”
Vassago was spellbound. His mouth hung slightly open at how forward the creature was. And then Andre let out another sinful groan…
Shit. He was probably going to regret this, and wind up cursed for his troubles, no matter what Andre said. At the same time his dick was hard, pressing against the fabric of his trousers.
His already low willpower gave out. He reached out, fascinated, as his slightly larger hand slid and touched the slippery scales of Andre's tail. The lights flared at his touch, following his finger tips. He swallowed as he pressed the pad of his finger against that slit.
Andre groaned and reared up. Vassago's finger slid inside up to the first knuckle and he muffled a small noise of surprise.
He didn't pull away, a glance at Andre's face told him the creature wasn't in any distress.
He moved his finger slowly, exploring. It was slightly cool inside, and slicker than the scales.
“Please,” Andre sighed as he fell back against the tub, the water in the bottom splashing about. His tail beat once, twice, thudding against the bottom rim of the tub.
The anatomy was stranger the deeper he pressed, with smooth ridges along the sides. Vassago's brow knit. “What if I hurt you?” he asked a bit plaintively.
Andre gave him a look like he had two heads. “You won't,” he said firmly. He grasped Vassago's hand, plucking out a second finger and guiding it to join the first. He kept his hand around Vassago's wrist as he encouraged him to continue his exploration.
Now the slide was tight, the slick not quite enough to make up for the drag of his weathered fingers inside. The passage clenched at him suddenly and let go again, and Andre's breathing sped up.
Vassago bit his bottom lip as he twisted his fingers. If the mer-creature was similar to a human, he'd have something that could make all of this much more enjoyable. He studied the faintly glowing scales, watching the patterns of light as he moved his fingers in and out. If there wasn't anything, Andre seemed to be enjoying himself anyway, if his faint gasps and trills were anything to go by.
But then his fingertips slid over a smooth bump that was bigger than the ridges and Andre jerked, letting out an absolutely sinful groan.
Vassago jerked his head up, studying his face. There were two blue pinpricks of flush and his eyes were faintly glowing as well.
Hmm. He thrust his fingers against that spot again, setting up a steady rhythm as Andre twisted and moaned. The creature grabbed his arm, holding him in place as he ground against his hand, a series of chirps and trills falling from his lips as every muscle in his body seemed to tense.
A cool rush of fluid welled up around his fingers, leaking out and over the glittering scales. The passage fluttered against his intruding digits, clenching and letting go again. When Vassago pulled his fingers back the slide was easy this time. He blinked at the creamy slick as it coated Andre's upper tail.
He felt faintly proud of himself. He had made a magical mythical creature come with only his hand.
Andre had a smirk on his face as he lounged back in the water, still breathing hard, looking more than a little smug. “Very good,” he purred. “Perhaps there's some truth to the rumors,” the smirk widened.
Vassago raised an eyebrow at that and willed his own reaction to calm down as pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “If you live in the sea, I'm not sure how you would have heard about anything,” he replied, wiping his fingers off carefully. Then, he wiped the glistening tail off in turn.
“I do have magic,” Andre returned vaguely.
“So you say.” Vassago replied. He dipped the handkerchief in the water and wrung it out.
“Why did you want me to do that?” he asked, genuinely curious. He was slightly concerned that he had allowed Andre to perform some sort of sex based ritual, something that could go badly for him.
Andre slid up and folded his arms across the ledge of the tub. “Why wouldn't I? You're handsome for a human,” he looked Vassago up and down, then reached out and tugged at a red lock of hair. “How did you make your hair this color?” he asked. “The humans in these waters have dark hair, not… whatever this is.”
“Henna,” Vassago replied easily. “From the east.” He loved dying his hair, and piercing his face, it made him look even more intimidating. “I traded for it.”
Andre's eyes narrowed. “And what will you trade me for?” he asked.
Vassago made a show of consideration, entirely in jest. He smiled and shook his head a moment later. “A being as beautiful as you deserves to be free,” he said. Being charming was something he knew he excelled at.
It worked too, Andre blushed at that. The creature ducked his head as Vassago went to look at his tail. He carefully unwrapped his jacket from around the fluke. To his surprise the stab wound was gone, and in its place was completely smooth, unmarred skin. “What?!” Vassago exclaimed, surprised.
Andre flicked his tail, just a bit, and not enough to hit Vassago or even make a loud thump against the iron tub. “I heal fast,” he replied. “Especially in the water.”
Vassago nodded slowly. Seeing visual proof of Andre's magic put him back onto his guard. This… this was something that could potentially endanger himself, and his crew… his entire ship for that matter. Though he'd like nothing more to keep Andre around, perhaps explore his body further, it wasn't exactly safe. He had already risked more than he should have.
He decided, reaching down and plucking Andre from the tub. Cool arms weaved around his neck as he hoisted up the creature and walked back towards the main part of his quarters.
“Taking me to bed, are you?” Andre purred in his ear.
Vassago shook his head. Instead he fiddled open the door to his rooms and elbowed his way back into the hall.
Carlos stood there, yet again, his hand on the handle of the flintlock he had plundered a few weeks prior.
“No need for that,” Vassago said, as he started for the stairs up to the deck. “I'm letting him go.”
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