Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   You woke up, as you always did, before the crack of dawn. Like clockwork, you got up, put on your necklace, showered, brewed the coffee and while it brewed ambled up the stairs and shut off the light in the tower as the sky above the ocean became a few shades lighter, finally a line appearing between the abyss of night. You go back down the stairs, grab your coffee and go outside to watch the sunrise. You settle in your chair outside, and watch the sun slowly emerge from the inky depths. A small, tired smile crosses your face. As much as the monotony of your life dragged on you- this you could never hate. No two sunrises were ever just alike.  

   Sometimes the clouds prolonged the appearance of the sun, making the oranges and reds muted and billow like a fire ill-concealed by smoke and ash. Sometimes the stars would melt away like sugar and snow as the sun rose, other times they would have long blinked out and faded away. Sometimes the sky was just a shade too pink, too red, too orange- sometimes it was indigo that melted into the azure to bypass all the warm colors all together. You took a sip of the coffee, the bitter taste masked with your preferred creamer. You hum. You needed more creamer. More creamer meant going into town. If you were going to town, you would need a list of things you needed to not waste the hour walking down the cliff to the town below. More things meant more money in order to buy said things. Meaning you should check the traps for fresh fish to sell. You hum, unsure to be pleased in your break of routine, or mourn the loss of it. For now, you choose to be pleased depending on the state of your traps and the day. You finished your coffee, got up and re-entered your humble cabin built into the bottom of the lighthouse tower.  

   It was small, meant for only one keeper. A bed tucked into the corner, a bathroom wall behind it with a small flimsy door you needed to replace the lock on. But what was the point? You had no visitors to intrude upon you anyhow. The kitchen took up another wall, and your bookshelf was lined with the novels you rarely treated yourself with. You hummed again. Perhaps it was time for another, if you had the budget for it. You started compiling a list. Soap, vegetables, milk, cooking sherry, beef, coffee and creamer, a new brush. You tap the pen against the pad of paper thoughtfully. If you had caught a few fish, a new book would not be out of the question. Something to keep your mind at ease.  

   You get up, grab your cooler and head out, walking once again into the cool morning. You ambled down the small, narrow cliff path to the beach at the bottom. Rocks skitter and fall as you make your way down; you pause, however, as you hear the telltale signs of a bell ringing. You rush down, and... sigh in slight disappointment. It was no more than a rather large tuna that had got caught in the rope attached to the small dock on the private beach. Mumbling you haul it in, cut it loose and toss it into the cooler before reeling in the trap. A decent haul, you muse, tossing the fish inside into the cooler. Enough for a new book at any rate. You grab the snare and look out to sea, remembering the reason why you attached a bell to the snare in the first place...  

*One Year Previous*  

   You get up in the dead of night, hearing a crash down nearby where the cliff path down leads. You sit up in a cold sweat, hastily throwing on your coat, and grabbing your father’s old flintlock. You rush out and look up, fearing that you had been careless, and the light had gone out. Relief floods you as you do not hear yelling, or see flames, and that the lighthouse light continues to circle gently to signal out to ships. There was a light fog that night, but not so dense that you could not see. You frown, so what had been the crash? You grip the flintlock tightly and head down the path. The sea breeze was cold and biting against your skin as you walked down, the rocks skittering about. “Probably nothing, the trap got busted, or that old dock finally collapsed.”  You mumbled to reassure yourself.  

   You round the corner and stop dead in your tracks. The first thing you see, illuminated in the pale moonlight, is red. A deep, burgundy red that is bright in the darkness of the night, shimmering scales, and soft damp hair. A tanned, handsome and scarred face stares wide eyed back, a net wrapped around his arm and tail- his one arm. You gape at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do. Of how to make the first move.  

   The words of your father ring in your ears. Things you had dismissed due to his old age and poor health. “Sirens, girl, are not something to be trifled with.” He had said, waggling his finger at you.  

  “They’re vicious creatures, meant to lure unsuspecting sailors and maidens to their deaths with the promise of vices.” He took a hit of his pipe, the vice that had killed him a couple months later. “If ya see one, call the marines- or don’t you dare hesitate to pull that trigger.”  

  You raise the gun, prepared to shoot and ask questions later... but now, looking at the male siren, you can’t help but feel conflicted. This siren isn’t trying to lure you in, or sing to you, or even bat his pretty dark eyes at you. Instead, he stares, wary, exhausted and ashamed- as if embarrassed he had been caught. His skin is bruised, and the deck cracked slightly from where he had been pulling. He seemed to have been trying to get loose without breaking the dock but had given up. You lick your lips. They taste of salt. “Can you speak?”  

   He hesitates, tilting his head, his red locks sticking to his skin slowly falling a bit to the side as he does so. “I can.”  

   You swallow thickly. “How’d you get caught?”  

   The red-haired merman grimaces. “Got hungry.” He nods to the fish trapped in a net nearby. “Didn’t realize you had two traps,” He grins. “Clever girl.” His teeth are sharp, deceptively normal looking until he actually smiles.  

  “It’s...common around here. For two traps. One bigger than the other in case a shark or something goes for the other trap.” You say lamely.  “Not as common for your kind to be caught in them.” You glance at the path. You should run up it, call the marines, have them collect him and be done with it.  

   The red-haired merman notices and swallows thickly. “Wait- I, I can get you whatever you desire if you free me. I’d do it myself, but as you can imagine, it’s a bit hard when you’re one handed.”  

   Sympathy hits you, no matter how much you wish it didn’t. It was one of the things your father had tried to get rid of when it came to you.  

  “You’d be a damn fine marine or lighthouse keep,” He had clicked his tongue. Your father always clicked his tongue when he was displeased with you. “If ya weren’t so damn soft hearted.”  

   “If I free you,” Slowly, you lower the rifle. “No funny business?”  You ask, cautiously approaching.  

   “Not even a little bit!” The merman perks up, grinning, his scars around his left eye moving as it sparkles with delight. Three of them, uniform. You wanted to ask how he got them. Slowly, you approach, and start to detangle him, your hands shaking. But true to his word, he doesn’t move a muscle to hurt you, instead staying stock still and listening when you instructed him to turn a certain way. After a few moments, he is freed, and you yelp as he grabs your hand. Your heart races and you wonder if he’s going to pull you in and drown you- but instead you feel warm lips pressed to your knuckles.  

   “Thank you,” he says, grinning slightly. “I’m Shanks, you are-” You didn’t let him finish before racing away.  

   You turn just before the path, seeing his bewildered face. “You’re welcome!” You then race up, your cheeks hot. You were stupid to go that close, even if nothing had happened. You had done a good deed, and now you never had to see the merman again...is what you told yourself until the morning when you felt a hand grab your ankle as you checked the traps. You gasp, eyes bulging as Shanks pulls you down into the low tide water below the deck, grinning down at you as his arm wrapped around your shoulders.  

   “You’re back!” His tone is warm, as if he is genuinely glad to see you again. “Was wondering if you’d be too chicken to wander back down.”  

   You sputter, trying to find words, your heart racing. “You-You’re still here?!” You finally say your voice a few octaves higher than normal.  

   “Yep.” Shanks’s tone is proud. “Had to know your name so I know whom I’m indebted too.”  

   You flounder a bit. “You- you’re not indebted to me-”  

   “I beg to differ,” That grin is almost as blinding as the sun. All white, sharply lined teeth. “You saved my hide instead of selling it to the highest bidder or shooting me with that gun of yours. That’s worthy of some payback, don’t you agree?”  

   “No, no, it’s fine.” You wave your hands, turning to climb out, but instead a warm palm cups your face as his arm leaves your waist, red lashes flutter against tanned cheeks as deep brown eyes steal the breath from your mouth. The smooth, hard scales of his tail gently wrap around your ankle as you float. You become painfully aware of how much bigger he is than you.  

  “C’mon love, throw a man a bone or two.” His voice is almost a purr. “A name, a desire you have.” His nose is inches from yours, any closer and you’d feel his facial hair against your skin.  

   You smack him reflexively, before choking on air. That had been stupid to do, smacking a merman twice your size when he could drag you under in seconds. But to your surprise, after a moment he just laughs. “You’re a tough little thing,” He grins. “Maybe I’ll just call you Current for now.”  

   “Current-” You blink in confusion.  

   “Because you’re either helping me or beating me up.” He boops your nose teasingly. “Like a Current. Stubborn, confusing little thing that you are.”  

   You blink at him, your mind reeling. All your life people had told you that sirens, fishmen and mermaids were savage creatures. Beautiful like snakes and thrice as deadly because they appealed to those alone at sea when humans are most vulnerable to their instincts as social creatures. What people failed to mention was that they were playful, and apparently, extremely social as well. You wondered in your stress if Shanks was planning on killing you later, if this was a test to see if you were worthy of living, or if you had helped him for something in return. “So, Current, as we established, I am in your debt.” He tilts his head, staring down at you curiously.  

  “I- I uh, don’t need anything.” You say nervously. “Really, we’re good.”  

   Shanks smirks, as if in knowledge of a joke you don’t know. “We’re “good”, hm?”  

   “Well,” You clear your throat. “Yes.”  

   “We’ll see.” He turns to look out at the sea. “Hm, we’ll continue this another time, and maybe you can tell me your real name. Bye Current.” You sputter as his tail splashes you as he dives back down, disappearing into the dark waves.  Nervously you collect your fish to sell and quickly depart from the beach. You go about your schedule, relishing the normalcy as you turn on the light and you sit with a bowl of strawberries, enjoying the summer night when you hear it.  

   “CURRENT?!” A loud voice calls. “CURRENT!?” You wince, sighing as Shank’s voice carries over the cliff edge. You walk over to the edge, glancing over. Shanks beams at seeing you, so wide you can see it from where you are. “Current! Come down here!” He calls to you, making an honest to the gods grabby motion with his hand. “I missed you! Where have you been?”  

   “Missed me!?” You shout back. “It’s been a few hours - And you don’t know me! I told you that I don’t need you to repay me!”  

   “Not how this works love,” He grins. “Now come down here! Unless you want me to keep shouting at the top of my lungs for you?”  

   Your brow twitches and you storm down, grumbling as you clutch your robe. Flustered and quite frankly, annoyed at how he had disrupted your life, you storm all the way to the dock. “What?” You hiss down at him, this time careful to not be close to the edge.  

   “Aw Current, don’t talk to a new friend that way.” He grins, climbing up with terrifying ease despite being one handed.  

   “I don’t know if I’d classify us as friends.” You say uneasily, backing up a bit. He pouts up at you.  

   “Well, I count you as a friend, and perhaps-” Shanks grins, holding up a rum bottle that he pulls from the sash around his waist. And no , you do not stare at his abs and faint scarring on his torso, dark hair gathered in a line down- No. Not one bit. “This can change your mind. Good rum, for you.”  

   You shift awkwardly. “What if I don’t drink? Besides, I don’t have one glass let alone two.”  

   “We can share it from the bottle, and if you won’t drink, more for me.” He says, almost smug.  

   You raise a brow. “And I thought it was for me?”  

   “Guess I’ll find something else you like then.” He hums, opening the bottle and taking a swig before holding it out to you. You sigh, sitting down and taking a small swig. You cough a little, the rim of the bottle tasting salty before the smooth rum hits your tongue.  

   “That’s the ticket Current,” Shanks grins. “Now we’ve shared a drink, we’ve got to be friends now.” He takes the bottle back, taking a swig. He hums in thought.  

   “What?” You ask, raising a brow.  

   “It tastes like strawberries.” You blush, and slug him on the shoulder, making him laugh.  

   “Don’t make it weird!” You shout, standing up and storming off in your embarrassment, ignoring how his laugh made your stomach flip nervously.  

   A few weeks pass of him showing up intermittently, always disrupting your schedule with playful grabs, hugs, and attempts to get you drinking with him again. It is on one of these visits that he grins mysteriously at you.  

  “I brought something for you.” You back away a bit, but glance down, seeing a small bag in his hands. The material seems to be made from old sails and cloth, tied and sewn together with frayed ropes.  

  “What is it?” You ask, shifting nervously before kneeling down onto the hard wood of the deck.  

  “A gift.” He says, holding the bag out to you.  

  You sigh, opening it. Inside was a cluster of beautiful sea glass, pearls, and shells. Bright, vibrant colors that shine in the moonlight, and probably gorgeous in the sun. “Pick what you like.” Shanks looks excitedly as you stare in awe of the sea themed beauty in the bag.  

   “Pick what I like?” You say, unsure.  

   “Mhm, no pressure.” He says, calm, his damp red hair shining in the fading sunlight like rust. You sigh and start rooting through the bag picking particular things you like.  

   “So,” Shanks looks to you. “Why is a pretty thing like you living by yourself?”  

   You glance at him, setting down some of your selections. Colors that remind you of dawn. Pale pinks, oranges, reds. “I’m the lighthouse keeper.”  

   “I gathered that, Current.” He tilts his head. “I meant, why do you not have a lover? Or at least someone to keep you company here?”  

   You pause. “I... lived here with my father, before.” You say quietly. “He was an old marine, took over this position when I was a baby.” You glance at Shanks. “I’ve lived in this lighthouse all my life.” You idly pick up a piece of sea glass, twisting it in your fingers, squeezing it a bit. “I never got along properly with the other children, and that didn’t change when we all became adults. I’m...comfortable here. As dull as it is.” You look at the dock, before glancing back up at him.  

   “And you’ve never wanted more?” Shanks cranes his head to you. “To leave, to explore the world? Too see what was beyond that horizon you stare at every day?”  

   You set down the sea glass. “I... never really put thought into it.” You stare out into the horizon, at the sky lighting up. The sun was painting the sky pink today, melting into the indigo blackness of the night. “Not much after I was a kid. Not much money, no drive to explore.” The lie you tell yourself comes easily to you, even years later. “I kind of accepted my fate in that I’ll live here likely until I die.”  

   Shanks hums. “Not much of a life.”  

   I huff. “Not all of us have fins and the ability to travel this ocean filled world freely.”  

   Shanks tilts his head. “Would you?”  

   “Would I what?” You look at him.  

   “Travel the world if you had fins?” He rests his chin on his hand, having shifted into laying down. After a moment of consideration, you lay down as well to be at the same level as him.  

   “I suppose so.” You say quietly. “But it feels a bit late to start my life now. I’m damn near thirty.”  

   Shanks hums. “So? I’m older than that, lost an arm and I haven’t stopped exploring.” He grins. “You’re only as old as you feel, after all.”  

   “Yeah, but you’ve probably been journeying all your life, and you probably aren’t alone.” You say, gathering the last of the materials.  

   “You’re right,” He nods. “I have my pod, and friends all around the world.” He looks at you. “But is it worth being comfortable where you’re lonely and miserable? Or is it worth more finally doing what you want?”  

   You stare at him, unsure of how to respond. He hums, gathering the last of the materials and tucking them into a separate bag tied into a red sash tied around his middle. Your selection is treated with more care, swept gently into the original pouch.  “A bit of thought for you, Current.” He grins at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”  

   You watch as he disappears into the waves once again, looking up as the sun rises, wondering if maybe he had a point.  

   You gather fish and go into town, going down the same path, the same way, passing the same homes. You can see people you had grown up with living their lives. A woman who had sat next to you in school watches her daughter playing in the yard as she hangs laundry, she had married a boy the year above you. A group of men passes by, laughing together as they head to work, just as they had ten years ago when their hair was less grey. An elderly couple who owned an orchard walked down the path ahead of you. They sold the sweetest apples, selling them for pennies to the school children. For the first time since your father had died, you realize how truly alone you are on this island. No connections, no roots outside of the ones you had dug yourself. Desperate to cling on to normalcy as everything changed. You head to the nearest restaurant, entering with your cooler held awkwardly in front of you.  

   “Ah,” the owner speaks up, calling your name and walking over briskly. “Fresh catches today then? I’ve been wondering where you’ve been, the fish you give are always great quality.”  

   ‘ And cheap. ’ You think to yourself as you exchange money with him. “Not many fish, might have to change the trap location. Figured I’d sell what I have.” You give the weak excuse.  

   “Well good luck with that.” The owner says, carting off the fish, not even attempting a conversation. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, a cool sweat on the back of your neck. Every giggle feels directed at you; every wayward glance feels like a drill against your skin. This is why you limited going to town. It felt like your own personal hell when you went. Like you were one of the fish caught and strung up, left gasping for breath as the air dried out your flesh. Idly you look at the news wall. Only to pause.  

“ RED HAIRED DEMON SPOTTED NEARBY; MARINE BOATS DESTROYED”  

“Siren pod headed by the infamous “Red Haired Shanks” spotted nearby the coast after the destruction of several naval fleet boats, it is believed that the pod is hiding in the coastal waters nearby. This pod is extremely dangerous with an extreme mortality rate. Any fishing or passenger vessels are highly encouraged to take caution and alert the Marine base on the island if you spot this pod.”  

   You pale greatly at the picture. Several wrecked marine vessels are depicted. Burning, two are broken in half. It’s carnage that befits the bounty poster that promises billions of berries for the capture of such a pod. No proper pictures available due to the sneakiness of sirens, able to hide deep under the waves. It feels impossible that your- that Shanks could have done this. Shanks who had such a bright smile and eyes. Who while flirty, and touchy, had never made a move to hurt you.  

   “Here you go dear,” The owner came back, carrying your cooler, pausing. “My- are you alright? You seem rather pale.”  

   “I’m alright.” You rasp, taking the cooler. “Thanks.” You rush out, the walk home a blur- or perhaps it was a run. All you wanted was to get home fast. You close the door to your cabin and sink into your bed. You curl up under the blankets, staring at the wall as you rock back and forth. It was fine. It would be fine, you just had to avoid Shanks. This time, with conviction.  

   But this time it’s worse. At first, he playfully calls for you. Then it becomes more solemn, sad. Then sometimes he even sounds frustrated or angry. Then, after a week, you hear it. A deep, throaty rumble. Singing. A lure to bring you to him, to enchant you to come down to him. But you refuse to let it work, wearing ear plugs, trying to sleep. However, none of it worked, it was only your will that kept you in place as Shanks sang for you. You slept less and less each night, until you more or less could only sleep a little during the day. Your money started running tight as well, your salary as the lighthouse keeper could keep your bills paid- but not your groceries or repairs to things. Finally, you reluctantly sneak down the cliff path after two and a half weeks. Shanks had stopped singing for the last two nights, and for once you had slept a little. You step onto the dock, seeing no telltale sign of red hair. You kneel down, gathering the fish.  

   You don’t notice the red until it is far too late, yelping as Shanks burst out of the water, your back hitting the old wood of the dock as thick rivulets of sea water run off of his body onto you. You gasp, staring wide eyed up at the less than pleased merman. “Hello Current.” He says coolly, tilting his head. The sunlight filters through his red hair, making it look like the sunset. Gold and vibrant red that filters through his wavy hair. Your breath gets caught in your throat. He leaned over you, slotted between your legs, his arm bent next to your head and his hand clenched around something as he gives you a displeased look. “You know, it’s very cruel to ignore someone, Current.”  

   “Where-” You choke out. “How did you know-”  

   “I smelled and saw you,” He huffs. “This is for you by the way.” He drops a familiar pouch, before you look back at him. “But before I give you that, I’d advise that you tell me why you thought it alright to so blatantly ignore me and my song. And don’t lie and say you haven’t been here- I could smell you from a mile away.”  

   You debated lying, but the words fail you. For everything that had happened, Shanks to your knowledge had never lied to you. He deserved the same from you. “I, I saw the news-” You swallow thickly. “I saw your name on it. Did... did you really sink seven boats?”  

   He stares at you, and sighs. “Yes. I did. And many more before that.” He gets off of you a little, sitting on the dock next to you instead. “... You’re scared of me.” Shanks stares out into the water, sighing as he rubs his face. “I had thought so, but had hoped I could convince you not to be.”  

   You can’t help the guilt you feel in your heart, he looks so tired, and downtrodden. “Why did you sink those ships?”  

   “They had merfolk trapped aboard.” He glances down at you, before looking back at the ocean. “That’s what they don’t mention, in the papers. They are always quick to call us the monsters- yet we’re not the ones kidnapping humans and selling them off as pets to the nobility.” Shanks snorts. “No, that’s a strictly human activity.” He looks at you and looks back out to the waves. “Maybe not all humans...but you are all scared of us at the end of the day.”  

   You look down. You hug yourself, cold from the water he had splashed all over you. “... I wasn’t scared of you beyond the second meeting. Until I learned that you had sank all those ships and you were wanted.” You confess quietly. “I couldn’t believe that it was you, but the “Red Haired Shanks” was kind of hard to brush off.”  

   He hums, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “And now?”  

   You hug yourself a bit tighter. “I don’t know.” You confess softly, staring out into the sea. You feel a gentle tug as a warm, tan hand tilted your chin up.  

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know.” Shanks spoke softly, as if reassuring a scared animal. “I don’t hurt the innocent.”  

  “And how do you define innocent?” You ask, pulling away a bit.  

   He smiles broadly. “I’m a great judge of character.”  

  “...It’s that simple for you?” You say flatly, raising a brow.  

   He only grins in response. “I never gave you my gift. Close your eyes.”  

   You give him a doubtful look, furrowing your brow.  

  “Come on, trust me a little.” He goads you.  

   You hum in discontent but close your eyes anyway. You feel him gently grab your hand, something cool and bumpy resting on your palm. You open your eyes, and gasp softly. In your palm, arranged carefully, is a necklace made of sea glass, pearls and shells. Arranged in such a way that resembles your favorite time of day. Smooth reds that fade into orange, pink, indigo and finishing with an inky black pearl at the center. “I would have had it to you sooner, love,” He grins. “But it’s tricky making jewelry with one hand- and even trickier when the recipient avoids you like the west blue virus.”  

  “You...made this for me?” You ask softly, gently running your hands over the bumps and ridges of the necklace.  

  “I did, you could ask members of my pod!” He says proudly. “I got a bit of help, but rest assured I did all the work.”  

  “You made it look like the sunrise.” Your tone is full of awe, looking at him.  

  “I did, I can see you most days, staring at the sunrise and sunset- figured it was your favorite time of the day.” Shanks looks out at the ocean, his tanned cheeks a tint darker.  

   You grip the necklace tightly, your cheeks burning red. “Nobody...nobody has ever given me something so nice. Thank you.”  

   He blinks, then smiles warmly, patting your head. “You’re welcome.”  

   You smile back, yelping as several mermen popped out of the water below the dock. “Shanks!” Grins a silver-haired one. “You give her the necklace yet?”  

  “I did,” Shanks grins. “But you didn’t have to scare Current like that lads, show your manners to a lady.”  

   “Ah, sorry about that miss.” The silver-haired one says as the others laugh. He raises his hand out of the water towards you. “Benn. Nice to meetcha.”  

   You hesitantly shake his hand, giving your name, raising your brow as you see Shanks pout. “What?” You ask him, shifting nervously.  

   “You told him your name with no trouble but not me?” He pouts, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you in with a grin. “You’re going to have to make it up to me Current.”  

   “Huh? How-” You gape, flustered.  

   “By drinking with us tonight,” He winks. “And perhaps letting us have the fish you caught today?” You huff.  

   “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You rub the back of your neck, slipping the necklace on and tying it.  

   “Nope. I’d just keep you here anyway.” He grins. So, party you do, well into the night. Getting into drinking contests with the pod, even eventually feeling comfortable (or drunk off of the wine and rum they carried with them) enough to swim in the ocean. You float, talking with Benn as the sun dips below the horizon. You jolt as you feel an arm wrap around your waist, relaxing as you see that it is only Shanks who seems pleasantly buzzed like you are. “C’mon Current, you owe me a dance.” He grins, pulling you slightly away.  

   “But there’s no music, and...” You glance down at his tail questioningly. “And when do I owe you something? Aren’t you dead set on paying me back?”  

   “This is repayment for you leaving me high and dry for days on end,” he pouts. “You could have caused some grey in this red hair you know.”  

   “Then I suppose I do have to make it up to you.” You smile, a bit guilty. “But how do merfolk dance anyway?”  

    You shiver at feeling the end of his tail wrap around your ankle, the scales cool and smooth to the touch. “I can show you, although, it’s a bit harder above the water.” He hums. “Would you be down for going under so I can show you how the dance can really go?”  

    You think about it. “I can’t see down there like you can. I mean,” You look to the lantern you had set up. “That’s not going to illuminate much.”  

   “I wouldn’t let you go.” Shanks tilts his head. “Do you trust me?”  

    You nod, and gasp as he presses you a bit closer with a grin. “Then hold tight and take a deep breath.” You take a comically large breath, your cheeks puffing up, causing him to laugh. “Seas below that’s adorable." You turn red and make a sound of discontent as he takes you under the water. It’s brighter than you expected, the moonlight penetrating the surface of the water to the sand on the sandbar. It was breathtaking, serene, fish swimming lazily around the seaweed and rocks lining the bottom. Shanks grinned; arm wrapped around your waist firmly, twisting lazily with you. You smile, gently kicking your legs as you both cut through the water, similar to dolphins swimming around one another. You look around, your back pressed to his chest as he swims through the wooden posts of the docks, seeing the barnacles, crabs, and algae underneath it.  

    You laugh as he is distracted, hitting his head on one of the wooden posts of the dock. Bubbles escape your throat, and he is quick to take you back to the surface before you even struggle for breath. “Are you ok?” You ask, still giggling as you reach up and check the back of his head for lumps. Instead, he closes his eyes, leaning into the touch.  

   “Perfect.” He opens his eyes, soft and tender. “Right now, I’m perfect.” Shanks pulled you into his side, floating in the ocean with you. “Having fun Current?”  

   “A lot actually, it’s funny. Usually, I feel itchy at parties like this.” You say, staring up at the stars, relaxed.  

   “Itchy?” His tone is teasing, but not malicious. “How does a party make you feel itchy?”  

   “The eyes, the laughter- I get self-conscious.” You admit after a moment. “It makes my skin crawl normally, but I don’t know.” You glance over to where a playful spar is taking place between the pod. “I don’t feel it here. I think it’s because none of you are ashamed or judgmental, you’re all so...free.”  

   “Do you like it, with us?” He asked quietly.  

    You look at him, your mouth dries at seeing the serious look on his face. “I think I do.” You admit quietly. Shanks grins and you swear that you see your precious dawn in the middle of the night.  

   “We enjoy having you around too.” Your heart pounds in your chest, feeling yourself lean in, eyes slowly sliding shut... Only for the pod to go deathly silent. You yelp as Shanks sets you upright immediately, quickly swimming over to the dock. “Current you need to go,” He says quietly. “Please, be quick and stay low.”  

   “Shanks?” You ask worriedly, hearing rushing waves in the distance as you climb onto the dock. “What’s the matter?”  

    He smiles sadly, reaching up and stroking your cheek. “We’ll be fine. Go home and stay quiet. I’ll see you in the morning.”  

    You bite your lip, but nod and run away, staying low. You run up the narrow path to the top of the cliff your home resided on. You pause, tensing as you see a naval ship slowly approaching. You enter your home, watching intently as it comes closer, not stopping but instead focusing heavy spotlights on the water. You lay down in your bed, staring at your ceiling as you clutched your necklace tightly. Terrified that the silence of the night would be broken by the naval ship opening fire. But it doesn’t, and for the first time in years you don’t go outside to watch the dawn. You had already seen it that day anyway.  

   You spend the day sleeping, venturing out when the sun sets, relieved to see no naval boat today as you rush down the path. In your haste you slip down, scrapping your knees but you pay no mind as you go to the docks. “Shanks?” You call out hopefully, looking around. “Here Current.” You turn to the side, seeing Shanks floating below you, staring up at you with sad eyes.  

   “Shanks! You’re alright!” You say, relieved as you stare down at him. “I was so worried you were going to be caught.”  

    “Nah, they’d need a lot more than one boat if they wanted to bring me in.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It falters and he sighs. “But...we’re going to have to keep moving. The longer we stay, the more likely it is they might get the drop on us,” He reaches up and takes your hand. “And the more likely you could get in trouble for being associated with us.”  

    Your heart aches, and your mouth becomes painfully dry. “But...” You bite your lip. “I understand.” You say quietly, as much as you hate the idea of being alone again. Shanks squeezes your hand gently.  

   He says your real name reverently, drawing your attention to his face again. “Did you mean it? That you were happy with us... with me?”  

   “I did.” You say softly.  

   “Then one year.” He says, his eyes earnest. “Wait here, one more year, and I will come back for you. If you want to come with us.”  

   “You mean it?” You ask hopefully.  

   “I never go back on my word, you know that.” Shanks is deadly serious. “One year, after all,” His eyes go to the necklace hanging low, catching in the sun. “I already made you a promise.”  

   “Then one year,” You say, leaning down. “I’ll miss you.”  

    He rises up a little, a breath away. “May I kiss you before I go?”  

    A part of you wants to tease him or make him wait until you see one another again.  But you can’t cause that pain to yourself. “I’d be very mad if you didn’t.”  

   Warm lips meet yours, slightly chapped and tasting of salt and wine. It’s sweet, tender and loving. If not for the need to breathe you don’t think you ever would have pulled away.  

   “Strawberries.” He muses, somber. “One year.” Shanks places a soft kiss on your palm. “One.”  

   “One year.” You say softly, lifting his hand and kissing his knuckles. “One.” After a moment you both let go, and you watch him dive below the waves. You tried not to let the crushing weight of being alone again hit you, a feat that became much harder when the next day you didn’t find the dawn quite as beautiful as you used to.  

*Present Day*  

   You sigh, closing the cooler and rubbing your necklace. Two more days until it had been a full year, and you hadn’t seen a glimpse of red hair or charming smirk. You chastised yourself; he had said a year. And besides there could be delays in his journey, more ships to wreck, other merfolk to help, another- you stopped the thought with a slap to your own wrist, gently rubbing a piece of sea glass on your necklace, smiling softly. It was not as if he had forgotten you or anything anyway. A few more pods had popped up along the year, and the occasional solitary merfolk. The Straw-hat pod had been one of your favorites, the leader’s bright smile genuine and infectious. And Luffy had been very excited to meet Shanks’s intended.  

  “Huh?” You ask, your eyes pulling away from Luffy and Usopp as they excitedly devour the fish from your trap, Nami and Vivi lounging on your deck with Chopper in the sun next to you, Sanji scolding Zoro as the latter drank down your wine.  

  “Your necklace,” Nami pointed, her short orange hair shining in the sun. “It’s a courting necklace, you do know that, right?”  

  You blushed hotly. “No! That- he never told me that ! He claimed it was a gift!”  

  She hummed, nodding. “It is a gift, a courting gift. An engagement necklace specifically if it has pearls on it. It’s custom for merfolk to give each other handmade jewelry when starting to court.”  

  Vivi leaned forward and nodded. “And so much work, he must have searched everywhere for all the different kinds of sea glass.”  

  “Woah!” Luffy grinned, rocking excitedly, his straw-hat hanging from his neck. “You must be super cool if Shanks is taking you as his mate! I’d ask you to join my pod- but it looks like you’re already taken.” He snickers good-naturedly. “Tell him I said hi when you see him, and that the next time we meet I’ll be king of the merfolk for sure!”

    You huff at the memory, walking back towards the beach. “Stupid silly man, not even asking me to marry him properly.”  

   “Sorry Current.”  

   “You should be sorry you-” You stop dead in your tracks, slowly turning your head. There, floating in the water below you with a loving grin is the subject of your ire, devotion, and love. “You...” Hot tears well up in your eyes. “You-”  

   “Oh, Current my love don’t cry,” Shanks says soothingly, wide eyed. “I’m sorry-”  

   “I missed you!” You dive into the water, knocking into him, hugging him tightly around the neck. He laughed loudly, spinning you around in the water, hugging you back just as tight as he can.  

  “I missed you too love.” Shanks murmurs, kissing your temple lovingly. “I missed seeing the furrow in your brow, and that smile of yours.” He pulls away, kissing you on the brow, then the lips. “There it is.” He kissed the tip of your nose before smothering your face with kisses. You respond in kind, giving him just as many kisses around his face. You wipe your eyes, your arms around his neck. “You’re two days early you know.” “Love if not for the circumstances I would have been here three weeks ago.” He huffed. “But things kept getting in the way.”  

 “Oh yes, which reminds me.” You bonk him lightly on the head. “What gives with giving me an engagement necklace before even dating officially!?”  

  He pouts. “Is that a no then?” He asks.  

  “Well-” You blush. “It’s, it’s...it’s a yes but that’s not the point!” Shanks laughs lovingly at you, resting his forehead to yours.  

  “Well, if that’s a yes, then how about a yes for this?” He pulls away and holds up what appears to be a small white fruit.  

  “What is that?” You ask, furrowing your brow.  

  “A choice.” He says softly. “This time, I’m telling you fully what it does, because I love you and I want you to make this choice on your own. No matter what, I love you, and we’ll make this work.” Shanks sighs softly. “This fruit makes it so that a human can become a merfolk- but they can never go back to being human. It’s a one-way thing.” He looks to you. “I want you to travel the world with me, you deserve to see it. To have that adventure you crave for... but I know how you feel about this place. This has been your home all your life.” He gently cups your face. “No matter your choice, I want to be with you.”  

  You think about it, looking down at the fruit, then back up at the lighthouse. The sun is starting to set. “I only have one question.” You say after some thought.  

  “Of course, Current-” He gapes as you take the fruit, shoving it into your mouth and chewing only enough to swallow it. You smile, kissing him as you feel a tingling in your legs.  

  “What colors you want for your necklace?"  

Chapter Text

          You hated being on the ship. It was loud and the constant swaying often made you sick, for one. Full of smelly, angry, or scared adults for another. But most of all, it was not home. The lighthouse, with the beach, with- you stopped that train of thought, clutching the sun charm on your bracelet instead. It was a gift from your mother, full of stars and planet charms, given to you on your birthday. “For my little star.” She had cooed in your ears. She hadn’t sounded sick then, but that didn’t change the fact that mother wouldn’t be home waiting for you in anything but spirit. That was the whole reason you were on this ship after all, given that your father hadn’t trusted anyone else with your care. “You’ll end up softer than you already are.” He had barked as he tossed a bag at you to pack.

            Besides, you were thirteen, five years before you could join the marines as your father said, there was never a doubt in his mind that you would follow in his footsteps. “Could probably get you in early, at sixteen,” He had grunted yesterday. “As a cadet working in the galley or the like.” Privately, you thought he was just eager to get rid of you, so that his wife’s face would stop haunting him from yours. You looked out into the dark sea, the sun having long set below the horizon. You had missed it; your father had insisted on your participation in the evening exercise and had been unenthusiastic about your results. Your eyes flickered up to the stars, tracing constellations with your eyes, echoes of your mother’s soft voice in your ears. With a finger you began to trace them.

            You stilled as you heard a small splash below you. You looked down, seeing the water disturbed, the foam floating out in a ring. Unsettled you got up, peering over the edge with a furrowed brow. You grunted as your bracelet caught, one of the corners of the sun had gotten stuck. You pulled on it, annoyed, trying to loosen it but only succeeding in breaking the sun charm off. You swore, using one of the many creative words you had heard in the month you had heard in your month on the ship so far. You leaned in between the bars of the railing as best you could, reaching for the sun charm balanced precariously on the ledge. The boat rocked and you cried out as the sun fell off, sinking into the depths with a soft glint. You felt tears prick your eyes, already you were losing what little of your mother you had left. You could have sworn you saw a shape move under the water but before you could ascertain what it was- loud bells and whistles broke the night. “SIRENS, HEAD TO STATIONS!” As if out of nowhere the starry sky was covered by menacing clouds of flickering lighting, laughter surrounding the boat. You paled, trying to get up, getting stuck momentarily before turning to run to the door. Only for the boat to pitch violently as a giant wave crashed into it.

            You screamed as you were hit by the wave, gasping sharply as you hit the railing roughly, your bones creaking in protest. You sputtered, gripping the railing tightly as the ship pitched again, your ribs popping as another wave hit you. You tried to drag your way to the door, your feet slipping on the soaked deck as you flailed. Your ears were ringing, your heart pounding in your chest- a chill ran down your spine as you looked up just as another wave rushed over you. You were pitched over the railing along with debris from the railing and submerged in the freezing waters of the East Blue. The heavy wood sinking you down quickly until you kicked it off. You couldn’t tell which way was up as your fingers raked through the open, black water your left leg refusing to move. You were sinking, the meager air you had preserved escaping your lungs in frantic bubbles. You turned and finally saw light, the lighting cracking on the surface with cannon fire. You swam up and broke the surface for a few precious seconds before more debris hit you. You blacked out, your vision going dark, a weight settling over your stomach and cool scales skimming past your leg.

            Your vision swam in and out, coherency just out of reach as you regained sight, laying back on a floating piece of debris. “Come on, come on.” A voice hissed, a warm palm gently patting your cheek. “Don’t be dead, don’t be dead.”

            You looked up, coughing up saltwater, the salt stinging your split lip. Your vision swam, seeing only a flash of tanned skin and dark eyes before you drifted off again. “Over there!” You woke up to someone shaking you awake. “Girl, wake up, speak to me!” Your father’s urgent tone reached your ear. You opened your eyes, seeing your father’s relived face. “Thank the gods.” He muttered, pulling you into a hug. You rested against him, trying to remember the last time he hugged you, if ever. You looked over his shoulder, noticing the sinking military vessel, the lifeboats full of marines. You let your father pull you off the debris you had been floating on, your left leg stiff and unwilling to bend, sitting on the boat as you shivered. One of the marines threw a blanket over your shoulders as your father called for aid. “Good lass, little survivor you are.” The marine said softly before leaving you alone with the rest.

            You closed your eyes and let out a raspy sigh, opening your eyes as rays of light hit your face. The sun, rising slowly over the surface. Tears prick your eyes as you stare, the sky turning red and cutting through the blackness of the night like a shield. You had always thought sunsets were better, but now you found yourself changing your mind, because the sun rising meant you had lived to see it. You went to cover your eyes, opening your palm. You startle as a glint hits your eye, falling in your lap. There, as if it hadn’t fallen into the ocean, was a small sun.

Chapter Text

You grunted as you woke up, your back aching in protest as slowly you sat up. You hiss at the familiar pain in your hip, instinctively reaching down and rubbing the spot. You grabbed your cane with a sigh, knowing you were going to be needing it today. Your left leg and hip had healed awkwardly from the prolonged exposure, causing chronic pain that persisted even twenty-three years later. But the world doesn’t stop for your pain, so you can’t either. You began the trek up to the light, gritting your teeth occasionally as you looked out of the large windows. The fog from the last few days had finally let up, meaning you could turn off the light for the day. Not that you truly had to bother, most of the fishermen of your small island could easily find their way home blindfolded- and marine vessels always made sure to call in advance for arrivals. But this was your duty, and you would fulfill it properly. You turned off the switch, humming as you look out. The sun was rising slowly, as if knowing that you were in pain and you would be slow in your routine.

            You ambled back down the steps, passing the floor with your bed and bath, into the bottom where the kitchen and small space waited for you. You grabbed your kettle and put it on the stove, grabbing a cigar from the box and lighting it. You walked over to the small shrine, setting the cigar in front of the portrait for your father in his ashtray, and as soon as the kettle was ready you made a cup of tea for your mother. “Good morning.” You mumbled, before heading outside. You sat on the old bench and let out a sigh of relief as you sat down, finally taking weight off your hip. You took a sip of your tea, basking in the rising light of the sun. The sky was a touch more purple today than usual, the clouds seemed to be playful, forming shapes for children to guess on their walk to school and daydreaming during class.

            You hum, looking up as you heard a familiar shout, the paper boy waving as he raced up the hill. “Hello Ms. Keeper!” He panted, running all the way up to you and handing you the paper with a bright smile.

            “Thank you, Petri.” You hummed, pulling the gathered money from last night out of your pocket, handing it over.

            “Thank you!” The young boy grinned before running back down. You chuckled fondly, enjoying the rest of your tea as you opened the paper. You furrowed your brow at the front page, your stomach churning.

SHIPS DESTROYED ALONG THE EAST SIDE OF THE GRANDLINE: SIREN ACTIVITY HEAVILY SUSPECTED

Several marine and merchant vessels have been found destroyed along the Grand Line, barring marks of storm damage despite clear barometers and forecasts, as well as battle damage. It is highly suspected to be the work of siren pods that frequent the area and seems to be following the route to Sabaody. All Fishing and Merchant vessels are encouraged to report any suspicious activity to the nearest Marine base, more information on how to identify Siren activity on page 12.

            You huffed, closing the paper and rubbing your temples, trying to push away the memories of that night. The night that crippled you for months and had forced your father to retire to take care of you- the night that had left you with very conflicting thoughts on sirens. Ones that you had been smart enough to keep for yourself, as your fathers’ dislike turned into outright hatred as that night had effectively killed his dreams of promotion, of you joining and becoming a good marine in your own right- had rendered all of his sacrifices and hard work pointless. But oddly enough it had also made him a kinder father, more attentive as he instead taught you how to be a good lighthouse keeper. But on the other hand, you looked down to the bracelet on your wrist, old and repaired multiple times over, the charms glimmering in the sunlight. The charm sun catching the rays of the real thing. You pursed your lips and took another swallow of your tea. On the other hand, you were positive that it had been a siren that had saved your life and had been watching you from the water that night.

            How else had the charm come back to you? How else had you made it onto that makeshift raft of debris? One of the sirens had taken pity on you instead of dragging you into the depths to devour your flesh and feast on your bones as the papers claimed they’d do. You shook your head and got up with help from your cane. You had work to do today, not dwell on the past.

            Your days were spent similar to the last and as efficiently as possible. Every two days you checked and worked in your personal garden. Every three days you went to the small beach down below the lighthouse to gather the fish in the traps to go to town and sell it to the restaurant and grocer in town so that they’d have stock to sell when things grew tight in the last day before the fishermen came back with catches- four days out at sea for the fishing vessels was standard, sometimes five and then the weekends off. You’d always be home before sunset, or just stay home if the weather was bad to go up and watch the light and watch for ships that rarely if ever came.

            Today was no different, caring for your tomato plants, making a shopping list for tomorrow, clearing the shrine to your parents, cleaning up the tower as best you could with your leg, and finally settling down in your bed with a book. Keeping an ear out for a call, glancing up to make sure the light was still going. Everything was going as usual according to routine. You frowned as you read your book, eventually shutting it with a bored sigh- you should invest in a new book. You closed your eyes, and decided to get some rest, all the fishing boats having set anchor for the night. Nightmares plagued you. Memories of an event 10 years coming back to you, of smugglers coming on the private dock behind the lighthouse. Of your father going outside, ending all of them, but not before getting a fatal wound in the side. Of the hours of delirium he suffered as the doctor tried to help. Having to hear him call you by your mother’s name, sobbing about how much of a fool he was, of how cold his hand felt when his grip finally faded. The crack of firearms at his funeral. CRACK.

            You jolted upright, grabbing your cane and hurrying as fast as you could to the window. You looked frantically for a crashed ship or something that had gone wrong, but nothing met your eyes. You could see the fishing boats, bobbing calmly in the waves, no alarms or fire present. You furrowed your brow and ambled your way to the top. The highest view offered nothing, except that you could see something wrong with the dock in the back beach. You could hear waves crashing, and the sound of creaking wood. You grabbed a lantern and your father’s pistol, ambling down the walk on the cliffside. Your heart raced as you grip the pistol tightly.

             Your cane sunk into the sand, making your gait a bit awkward, but the adrenaline prevented you from feeling pain. You paused as you made it to the beach. Part of the dock had collapsed. You slowly approached, lowering the pistol as you walked down the dock to the collapsed part, trying to see what had caused it. The dock felt steady as you walked, your cane tapping on the old wood as you prodded the posts. So, the dock hadn’t given away naturally. You came to the collapsed part, finding a gaping, jagged hole in your deck as if something had yanked the post out- pulling parts of the dock with it.

            You peered down and froze. The exhausted face of a male siren stared back up at you, dark red hair wet from the sea but slowly drying from prolonged exposure to the surface, tanned skin a mix of rosy and pale. The man looked up at you, his brown eyes hazy, his arm and tail trapped in the net you had set for larger fish trying to steal the fresh fish from the traps. Scars liter his torso, three uniform ones cross over his left eye- an unlucky side of his apparently given his missing left arm. A fresh slash decorates his side, and bruises line his arms from where he had been tugging on the rope. “Help me, please.” He croaked before passing out, slumping down. Without thinking you used your cane and strength to pull him up onto the dock, getting to work to tug him free from the ropes. You paused as you got to his tail, your father’s words ringing in your ears.

            “The only good siren is a dead one,” He had growled, drunk off ale. “Underhanded cowards the lot of ‘em. They’ll strike you when you least expect it- so it’s best to kill ‘em on sight.” At the time you had merely nodded and kept quiet, no use agitating your father.

            Now, now you weren’t so sure. You took a deep breath and finished getting the ropes off, before getting ready to stand up, gripping your cane tightly. Only for a hand to wrap around your wrist. Your heart leapt to your throat, you gripped your cane and got ready to strike- “Thank you.” The siren rasped, looking up at you. You swallowed, nodded, and quickly got up. You pulled away and quickly walked back. “Wait…” He called, looking back at you. “Don’t…don’t…” You didn’t listen, going back inside and cursing yourself for your foolishness. You went to the top of the lighthouse and peered down, the siren was gone. You took a deep breath, and went to bed. It was over, and it felt as though a debt had been lifted off of your shoulders. You curled up in bed, rubbing your bracelet as you closed your eyes. For the first time, your dreams of the ocean didn’t turn into nightmares.

Chapter Text

You woke up a bit later that morning, your schedule a bit out of sorts, but that seemed fitting after last night. You ambled up the stairs and shut off the light, seeing the fishing ships already heading back to shore after five days, which meant that you could relax a bit more the next two nights unless a ship called to say it was coming into harbor. You glanced down at the docks and grimaced at the clear spot of damage. So much for last night being a vivid dream. You grab your cane and head out, doing your morning routine quickly and bypassing the bench, there would be no paper today anyway. The sun was already high, warm on your shoulders as the wind tousled your robe and brushed your face with the brine of the churning sea. You head down the path of the cliff and amble down the dock. You grunt as you kneel down to survey the damage.

            The boards were cracked and pulled apart, the beam that had supported this section was snapped and cracked down the base but not fully. It wouldn’t be an easy fix, but doable enough with in your budget and capabilities. The boards could be replaced as well, a slightly harder task but again it could be done. You froze in your investigation as you heard a splash. You looked around, seeing nothing. You peered to the left, seeing that all but one of your traps was intact, the third from the left however was empty. You furrowed your brow, getting up and hobbling over. You hoisted it up on the robe and looked it over. It had been opened and emptied, though you could see a few scales trapped in the sides, indicating that it had held fish. “I took from that one because it had the least fish.”

            You screamed loudly, startled by the sudden voice, looking over to see the merman from last night half up on the dock grinning broadly at you with a mix of flat and sharp teeth. “Yo,” He gave you a peace sign before resting his chin on his palm. “Good morning, mysterious savior.”

            You stare at him, wide eyed, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. “You- why- why are you here?!” You sputtered, gripping your cane tightly.

            “To thank you of course, as well as find some way to repay you for saving little ol’ me.” The siren smiled at you, his dark eyes sparkling in the sun, his red hair slowly drying in the warmth to become even more vibrant. He was a breathtaking being as all sirens tend to be. Tanned skin and muscular physique, his sharp jawline and upper lip lined with thick stubble that matches the coarse hair on his chest and arms. The faded scars from fights, a mix of claws, blades. His missing left arm looked as if it had been bitten off, marks from teeth marring the flesh. But arguably, the most beautiful part of him was his tail. A deep dark red that glistened like rubies in the sun, his fins a sheer black. Similarly colored scales were imbedded on the skin of his elbow and lining the gills in his neck. He wore a sash made of an old black sail, items tied to it like a belt, and a sword he kept sheathed in the scabbard. “While I don’t mind occasionally being tied up and helpless,” He waggled his brows at you suggestively. “It was significantly unfun last evening, so thank you.”

            You moved to run back down by walking around him, only for him to reach out to grab your ankle. “Now hold on-” You jolted back, a sharp pain in your hip, smacking his hand with your cane. “Yowch!” He hissed, shaking his hand, pouting up at you. “That wasn’t nice love!” You remained tense, your hand gripping the cane so hard your knuckles ached. His grin faltered, and he hummed. “You are scared of me.” He observed. After a moment he pulled himself up with frightening ease, his claws slightly digging into the old wood, sitting on the dock. You swallow thickly at how large he was. Over six foot easily- probably at least half way to seven. Slowly in your view he grabbed his sword, keeping it in the scabbard as he set it down, rolling it over to you so that it rested gently against your foot. “Is that better?” The siren asked, his voice softer, gentler. “I’m not aimin’ to hurt you, love, honest. Just want to talk a bit is all.”

            Slowly you lowered your cane, setting it down at your side. “Why?” You finally speak up, your tone a bit choked as your heart began to beat at a regular place. “Why did you come back?”

            “I just told you, keep up love.” The siren was back to smiling, shifting into a more comfortable position as his tone became teasing, leaning against the support beam. “I wanted to talk to my mysterious savior. Name’s Shanks.”

            “Shanks.” You said flatly, furrowing your brow. “Your parents named you after the action of stabbing someone?”

            Shanks took that in stride, laughing. “In a sense, never knew my birth parents- far as they are concerned, I was abandoned as a pup.” His smile turned fond in memory. “The man who raised me gave that name to me. Found me in a sunken ship, rooting through a chest for food. Funnily enough, I tried to stab him with that small trident you humans use to eat, wee little shit that I was. Grabbed me by the scruff, dragged me out the ship, and all but forced me into his pod askin’ his second to keep me like a seal or dolphin pup.”

            You found yourself gradually relaxing, adjusting your legs into a more comfortable position on your hip and knee. “You mean a fork.” You speak up after a moment.

            Shanks tilted his head at the word. “The small trident?” He guessed. “Is that what you humans call it, a fork?” He rolls the word on his tongue, as if to remember it.

            “…Yes.” You rub the back of your neck.

            He hums, nodding. He looks back at you. “What about you?”

            “What about me?” Your tone is defensive as you huff. “There’s nothin’ to say, not really.”

            “Sure there is! Beautiful ladies like you always got a story. Let me guess, you got married to a sailor, and he left you here, absconding into the sea to never be seen again?” He guessed, a shit eating grin hinting at him being unserious. “So, you stay here waiting for him to return.”

            “No.” You spoke flatly, folding your arms. “I’m unmarried.”

            He hums, a clicking noise not unlike a purr sounding in his throat. You give him a curious look at the noise. Shanks gives you a smile, as if waiting for you to ask. “What was the clicking noise?” You relented after a moment.

            “Oh, so you can contribute to the conversation,” He teased you lightly, flicking his tail and seawater towards you. “Thought you might just make me do all the hard work.” You give him an unamused glare, causing him to chortle and raise his hand in surrender. “Easy, I tease. It just happens, sirens use clicks and whistles to communicate under the waves when traveling.” Shanks explained, shrugging. “Can’t talk properly when moving through the water or air quick, especially in a current.”

            “I suppose that makes sense.” You fold your arms. “Like whales.”

            He grins. “Exactly like whales.” It grew silent after a moment, before Shanks let out a good natured snort. “You’re terrible at this.”

            “Terrible at what?” You asked, bewildered.

            “Holding a conversation more then a few sentences.” He teased you, reaching out as if to pinch your cheek. You reeled away, your ears burning hot in indignation. And nothing else, certainly not.

            “I- I am not terrible at it!” You hiss. “I can too hold a conversation!”

            “When’s the last time you did?” He raised a dark red brow challengingly at you.

            You stared indignantly at him, before getting your cane and standing. “I don’t need to take this from- from an idiot fish thief who can’t get himself out of a net!”

            “Hey that was a very well made net and trap love!” Shanks protested. “Now wait, you don’t have to go! Stay a while and talk to me.”

            “I’d rather not!” You turned your back to him but thought better of it, turning instead to glare at him as you edged sideways down the dock. “Good day! Go eat a sailor, or something!” Part of you recoiled at saying something so gruesome, but Shanks merely paused and then laughed, throwing his head back.

            “Oh?” Shanks looked back to you, his teeth gleaming in the sun as he leaned towards you, his claws digging into the wood a bit as if to pounce. “But pretty maidens taste much better,” He licked his lips, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. “Stay and let me have a nibble?”

            You promptly whacked him with your cane and left despite his protests and whining about your supposed cruelty.

Chapter Text

       You headed into town, dragging a wagon down behind you for your supplies as you tried to distract yourself from your unexpected visitor. The path was familiar, worn from dozens of generations working and traveling. You could walk it blindfolded, backwards, and start at the opposite end of the island- and still know the precise number of steps it would take to get anywhere. Your island was relatively small, having been bigger before the incident, but still containing a few hundred people that had lived there more or less their whole lives. Visitors were rarer these days, given how close your relatively peaceful island was to Sabody. While your island was a bit of an oasis in a brutal ocean, travelers still had to make it through said oceans to get here. Like your father had done when he had met your mother and decided to marry her. It was a story she had told you often. "Your father had come up to speak to mine," She had said with her soft voice as she kneaded dough. "He was so serious, and uptight..." She chuckled. "Until he saw me coming up from the beach and promptly bit his own tongue hard enough to bleed." It was a simple story, but it humanized your father in a way not many things did. You sometimes got a glimpse of the man your mother had adored, but you also knew that man more or less died with her.

            Your memories of your mother had continued to fade with age, but you could still remember certain things, especially on days like today. Her soft humming as she held your hand or carried you in the same wooden wagon you pulled behind you. The way she smelled of the apples from the orchards, ink from her pen, and the ocean breeze of the beach. Her bright toothy smile, and her willingness to help anyone with a cheerful word and firm hand. 

            You wished sometimes you could have been like her but you just… weren’t. You did struggle to talk to people as Shanks had teased you for- as much as you loathed to admit it. You struggled to step out of your comfort zone and routine, out of the safe confines you had put yourself into. You wonder idly what your mother would have thought of your surprise visitor. Your father would have shot him on sight, your mother probably would have asked him every question under the sun like you wanted to. A deep curiosity churned in your gut, your mind racing with questions to ask- most of all, what he wanted outside of simply talking.

            “Ms. Keeper! Ms. Keeper!” A young voice called excitedly, a bright smile filling your vision as Petri ran to be at your side. Small, scrawny with straw like hair and brown eyes, and a love to collect shells- his favorite being a blue spiral one he had found in the small beach behind your lighthouse. Having subsequently decided you were one of his favorite people now due to you actually being nice (not the mysterious, scary witch the children referred to you as) and letting him scour your beach for shells as long as you were there to supervise him. “I got a new shell!” He lifted a baby pink shell in classic shape, a bit chipped on the one side.

            “Lovely.” You hummed, nodding. “Did you find that on the main beach?” You asked after a moment, causing the boy to beam.

            “Nope! I found it by the river next to the Vinyer’s orchard when I was delivering the paper! Ocean must have washed it in.” Petri gushed excitedly. “I liked the color, and it’s nearly perfect except the dent, but it gives it character don’t you think?”

            You hummed, nodding. Petri was a sweet kid who could probably hold a one sided conversation for hours, living with his grandmother most days while his father was out fishing. When you had once asked if he had friends he had nodded, but said where they enjoyed play fighting and playing marines vs pirates, he preferred to explore things and study them- stopping by the lighthouse when you were outside to show you whatever bugs, shells, or rocks that caught his interest.  “Do you need help Ms. Keeper?” He asked, walking along with you, tucking his shell back into his pocket.

            “No thank you, Petri,” You shake your head. “Just grabbing a few things in town.”  Your cane tapped on the well-worn path, grimacing as you chide yourself for not buying a new brace sooner. No sooner had you thought that when All Petri grabbed the wagon handle and walked beside you, giving you a toothy grin- a gap in between where he had lost a tooth three weeks ago.

            “You help me all the time, let me help you.” He insisted, marching proudly. You couldn’t help the soft smile, allowing the boy to help you, finding it relieving on your leg and hip to not carry the weight up the hill. You ordered a new brace, grabbed groceries and supplies to fix the dock as well as a new journal for logs. All the while Petri chatted your ear off, talking about everything under the sun. His grades, what he was learning, what his grandmother made for dinner, the biggest fish his father caught that weekend and how it was bigger then then the one Jack’s dad caught. You nodded along indulgingly, glancing at the river that flowed through the island as you came upon your hill. You narrowed your eyes at a suspicious glint in the water but brush it off as it was gone quickly, probably something that had been dropped into the river to be lost to the ocean.

            You and Petri made it up the hill and you thanked the boy, trying to offer him some money for helping. Eventually settling on paying him in a few of your ripe, juiciest tomatoes to give to his grandmother. You waved goodbye to Petri, putting your stock away and grabbing the wagon once more, going down to the dock to repair the boards. Your leg wasn’t hurting too badly, especially as you didn’t have to strain yourself carrying everything up hill. You looked cautiously out to see if Shanks was here again but it would seem that he had finally left you alone. You began pulling out the damaged boards and nails, losing yourself in your work until the sun started to set. You let out a tired sigh, leaving your work for the next day, tired as you headed back up to turn on the light and tuck in early.

            The next morning as you woke up, you saw clear skies, but the clouds were a bit heavier. In a few days it’d be likely to rain, so you had better finish your work on the dock quickly. But when you made your way down, the work was done. The new boards placed carefully, your tools tucked neatly into the wagon, the old wood gone. The only evidence left behind was a few different colored scales left on the wood. Old, faded ruby reds, a few grey, and even some feathers. You frown, checking the work, but it had been done perfectly. Sturdy, level. You peer over and glare, your impressed and slightly grateful awe shattered. After all, what it had cost you was another trap full of fish.

            Dark eyes watched you from behind a rock, as you limped back up the path, muttering under your breath. Shanks grinned despite himself. You were just too cute when you got all huffy like that. Like a wind carrying a warning breeze of a storm. “You sure you know what you’re doing?” Beckman spoke up behind him, quiet as they bobbed on the waves. “She could call the marines.”

            “She would have done that last night,” Shanks grinned, turning to face his second in command. “And I always know what I’m doing, you should know that by now.”

            Beckman shook his head, snorting, “Yes, but tell me how many times you thought those things through. Like that woman three years ago-“

            “It was a consensual evening between two adults,” Shanks huffed. “That she was the daughter of a vice-admiral was not discussed. Besides,” His eyes softened up a bit as he glanced up. “That one... she’s different. I can feel it.” Beckman hummed, disappearing back under the waves with a flick of his dark grey and black tail. Shanks looked back up, to where the light clicked on in the lighthouse. “Night love, hopefully, I’ll get a bit more out of you next time.” With that the red haired merman sunk under the waves.

Chapter Text

             You had decided to kill or seriously maim the siren the next time you saw him; new portion of your deck be damned. Not one trap of yours had been spared in two weeks, you had been lucky to get more than five fish by the time you checked the traps, and not one hint of red to hold accountable to it. You ground your teeth as you reset the traps, your brow furrowed in anger. You looked up at the sky, turning purple and pink as the sun set. You had to work fast, having gotten to the traps later, only to find the majority of them empty. Oh, you’d give him a piece of your mind alright, watch those damn dark eyes of his widen in shock and probably mirth, that sharp yet friendly grin that would undoubtably be on his stupid, smug, handsome face. You leaned further over the edge to grab a trap where the rope was just out of reach.

            “There you are!” A warm voice spoke up behind you, startling you. You whipped your head around, and unfortunately tripped over a loose board, crashing into the water. Cold flooded your system as the waves closed over your head. You thrashed in a panic, bubbles escaping your mouth, your hip rearing with pain as the cold seeped to your bones. The pressure was already unbearable, crushing at you from all sides, pushing at your lungs. You clawed at the light of the surface, your heartbeat thudding in your ears like a drum. A warm arm wrapped around your waist and before you knew it you had broke the surface. You sputtered, coughing, clutching desperately onto the warmth as you fought to bring your heart under control.

            “Shh, easy love, you’re ok. You’ll be alright.” A warm voice murmured in your ear, the arm wrapped around your waist shifted as Shank’s tail curled to support your weight, his broad palm gently rubbing your back in between your shoulder blades. “That’s the way Current, breathe…in and out. There’s a good girl.”

            Finally, your heart thudded to an even pace, and the pressure eased, still encompassing your legs- but that was not nearly as troubling as you realized where you were. You pulled away quickly, Shanks staring back, uncharacteristic concern in his dark eyes. Just as quickly however, a grin crosses his face. “I figured you might fall for me, but this isn’t what I had in mind Current.” He purred, leaning in, the sound rumbling in his chest.

            “As if!” You flicked his nose. You turn, trying to get back up on the dock, wincing at the pain in your leg. Shanks hummed, using his shoulder to give you a proper boost up onto the dock. “Easy does it love. What are you doing out here?” He asked, climbing up to sit beside you, his scales shining in the sun. You shoot him a glare.

            “I live here, you don’t. What are you doing here, stealing more fish?” You wring out your shirt with a huff.

            “Aw come on Current, don’t be stingy.” Shanks pouted, giving you guppy eyes. “You can’t be eating all this fish all by your lonesome.”

            You shoot him a glare. “First off, how do you know I’m alone? I could be married, or dating someone, or have children. Secondly, I sell a majority of the fish for extra money- lighthouse keeping doesn’t exactly make one live like a king. Lastly, what is with the nickname?”

            Shanks hummed in consideration. “Well, you don’t smell like anyone else. No lover, and you humans wear rings when you’re mated don’t you? You don’t smell like you are around young most of the time, though there are some days- but I reckon that’s because of the little one who delivers your mail.” He then grins once more. “And the nickname is because you are as steadfast and unyielding as a current in the ocean. Near impossible to go against, and the best ally or worst enemy of those at sea.”

            You huffed at the compliment, hiding the blush. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, fish thief.”

            “My point proven.” He reaches into his belt. “That being said, I am sorry. I’ve been giving the fish to my pod, I didn’t know you were using it to make a living. Here.” He withdraws a small pouch filled to the brim with berri.

            You gawked, in shock. “You- where the hell did you get money?”

            Shanks laughed loudly at that, his teeth flashing in the sun. “Merfolk aren’t bums you know love. We trade with you humans, and your human money is often the best thing to trade.”

            “Oh so just you, fish thief, are a bum?” You tease him lightly. You gently push the money back. “I guess you fixed my dock that you broke, so I’ll accept you taking some fish to feed your family with as repayment- that and for your help a moment ago.”

            He hums, tucking the money back into his belt. “Well, I still owe you plenty. You saved me after all, like a nearby current when you’re getting chased by a shark or angry naval officer.” You hum, getting the feeling Shanks had plenty of experience with both. “So…I will confess,” He spoke up quietly. “Do you not know how to swim love?”

            You shifted awkwardly, hugging yourself as you stared down at the water. “I used to be able to…but I, had a very bad experience, while in the water. I nearly drowned and that’s why I need the cane. My leg never fully recovered I suppose, and I now have a healthy fear and respect for the ocean.”

            Shanks stayed quiet for a moment. “Then I’ll teach you how to swim again, to help you not be so afraid. That can be my repayment.”

            You whip your head around to look at him. “You would do that? Why?”

            “I just told you love, as repayment, keep up now.” Shanks said with his usual carefree attitude, lifting his hand to shake. “I’ll teach you how to swim again so that if you ever fall into water again, or need to swim, you’ll be able to without panicking like that- best not to attract sharks you know.”

            You stared at his hand, mulling it over for a moment. Was it worth it? Was it something you really could do? You took a deep breath and shook his hand. “Ok, when do we start?”

            “How about in a couple days, Current? The weather is going to get nasty in a bit, and I have some other duties to address with my pod.” You nodded, finding that fair. “On that note, I’ll see you later love,” Shanks grinned. “It seems that we’ll have to do our own hunting from now on.”

            You watch him dive into the water and clear your throat to catch his attention. “I don’t mind if you take some fish, now and then. Just… a little less. Please?”

            Shanks’s smile became just a tad warmer, more genuine. “You got it love, see you in three days.” With that he dived under the waves, leaving you in the warm dying sunlight. But maybe, just maybe you were already warm.

            Later that night you made the proper precautions, glancing out at the thickening clouds when you heard a ringing. The transponder snail purred as you ran your hand over it’s shell, taking the call. “Orchard Town lighthouse, how can I assist you?” You keep your tone polite and formal as you await answer.

            “This is Commodore Opfer, calling ahead to let you know that we will be docking in the morning for resupply and recoup. We will be docked for two days.” The firm, militaristic voice speaks through your snail.

            “Understood, I will send a message to the dockmaster, is it one marine vessel? Transport or Battleship so that the dockmaster can accommodate you properly Commodore.”

            “Transport, one cruiser.”

            “Understood.” You worked out the details with the Commodore, writing down the information to relay to the Dockmaster, the back of your mind wandering to a certain cheerful siren. Wondering if you should give him a warning that marines will be in the area, but ultimately you decide to leave it alone. He’d be gone for the majority of the time that the marines would be here, and would probably be smart enough to remain unseen. You turned the light on and went about your night, falling asleep to the sound of rolling thunder and dreaming of red…

                                                                                       The marine vessel never makes it to the harbor.

Chapter Text

Hey guys, it's been a hot minute since I uploaded, mainly because my life has been rather busy lately and finding the time to write is hard. That, and I'm not quite happy with the quality of my work so far. So, I have been pondering rewrites of the first few chapters before continuing on. Once I finish those I will post them all in one go, then update regularly with the new chapters. I thank you for your patience with me. This chapter will be deleted once I have done the rewrites and update, this is just to inform you, the reader of the current status of things.