Chapter Text
The ends of his scarf whipped in the wind. Billowing gusts did their best to rip his wrap from off his head. Sand hissed across the surface of the beach to sting his sandaled feet, but Ravio would rather deal with that than wading through the surf in waterlogged, leaking boots. He’d even left Sheerow at home.
Probably foolish, to come down to the beach so close to the end of the storm. But if he didn’t get here while the tide was low he’d miss the best forage, give the ocean a chance to rise up and take back anything the storm spat out on the sand. Nerves sang in his throat, his stomach, his hands, but it wasn’t enough to keep ol’ Ravio away. He just needed to keep an eye for sneaker waves while he dug for clams. not give the ocean a chance to snatch him to a watery grave.
But once he finished picking his way down the slick, steep cliff, he found a strange shape on the sand. Caution slowed his steps. He peered around the rest of the beach, but found no monsters or other predators ready to swoop down on him for approaching their kill.
Not unusual, for storms to wash animal carcases onto shore, but it could just as easily be both alive and dangerous. He wavered.
In the end, the potential lost profits from missing an entire tide’s worth of digging won out over his nervousness about approaching. Just as they’d won over the danger posed by the tail end of a ferocious, unexpected storm. He just needed to check. Maybe the carcase even had something on it he could salvage.
Turning his head this way and that and still finding nothing else with him on the sand, he picked his way down the beach.
…That wasn’t an animal. No mere animal had arms.
Ignoring how the wind tried to strangle him with his own scarf, he stilled again, watching warily. A dead monster likely had weapons he could restore and sell. A live one might hop up and tear his throat out. That would make for a very bad day. Highly preferable to avoid those as much as possible.
He shifted one cautious, shuffling step to the side, trying to get a better line of sight.
No monster had a tail like that.
His heart sank.
With less caution, now, he hurried forward, verifying what he’d seen.
A mer. Beached by the storm, probably.
But was it dead? He could see blood leaking from the gills nestled along the ribs beneath one outflung arm; not a good sign.
The little voice in the back of his head piped up to mention that a mer would almost certainly be carrying something of value, dead or not.
There were claws on the tips of those limp fingers. He eyed them warily, scrambling to right his headwrap when the wind dragged it into his eyes. The mer was facedown, and not moving, but they were also well known for possessing innate magic. Ravio didn’t care to get blasted with ice or something for startling someone who was not actually dead.
He was just debating the merits of poking at it with his clamming rake to see if that earned a reaction when one of the fingers twitched.
With a startled yelp, he jumped back. Heart pounding, he held his beachcombing bucket out in front of him like a particularly pathetic shield, the contents rattling against the sides from the adrenaline-fueled tremor in his hands.
The mer didn’t surge up and slam him with a facefull of magic. Or try to claw or bite. Or do anything except lie there looking like so much flotsam.
Watching closely for any further twitches, he caught the slight, pathetic flutter of a gill. More of a spasm, really. Short and halting and just how long had the mer been lying on the sand, entirely above the waterline? How long could they survive like that?
He shouldn’t get involved. He should turn around and crawl right back up the cliff to his leaky little house on the bluffs.
What if he did that and it was still here tomorrow?
With a self-directed groan, he dumped both clamming rake and treasure-hunting shovel out of his bucket. (He found washed up magical artifacts just often enough to keep carrying around the added weight of the shovel. They usually needed a lot of work to restore to a functional state and took forever to sell, but when they did. Oh, when they did, it made it entirely worth the hassle.)
Even intact seashells could sometimes sell for enough to be worth picking up.
Committed to his course, now, he hurried to follow through. Water-hardened sand gave way to the slip-slidey feeling of the submerged stuff as he raced down the beach into frothy, storm-tossed waves. Plunging in with little heed for how his robe and trousers immediately soaked to the knee, he dunked the bucket into the first rising swell and hustled as fast as he could back up the sand. Half the load had sloshed over the edges of the bucket by the time he made it back. He slowed enough to use some care as he poured what was left over the mer, trying to focus around the gills. Then he ran with his empty bucket back into the water.
Back and forth, back and forth he went, repeating the trips until every visible inch of skin and scales dripped seawater, he himself soaked now nearly to the waist and even more grateful he’d decided to bundle up against the slowly dying wind.
It wasn’t enough. Still the mer didn’t move.
Biting his lip, he shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the stretch of open ground between the mer and the waves. The bank was fairly steep, here; the tide came up far and retreated low, leaving rejected inhabitants a fair distance from their home beneath the waves.
“Please don’t eat me,” he whispered, reaching.
He needn’t have worried. The mer was as unresponsive to his touch now as all the cascading buckets of water that came before. With one solid grunt of effort, Ravio managed to roll the dead-weight mer onto his back.
Oh. Oh, dear. Even covered in sand and streaked with watery pink blood, it was immediately obvious that he was incredibly handsome. And completely shirtless. That had been apparent before, but became all the harder to ignore when he was looking at a toned chest and visible abs.
Ravio’s traitorous heart fluttered with sudden interest, his hands mimicking the motion.
“Now isn’t the time!” he hissed at himself.
Getting the mer down to the waterline turned into a long, difficult struggle. At first he couldn’t figure out where to hold him. He wound up having to drag him along the sand, hands hooked under armpits and trying to stay away from the gills, half blinded when the wind dragged at his headwrap again. And the mer was heavy: muscled tail longer than his upper body proportions seemed to indicate legs would be, the trailing fins adding both length and weight. He couldn’t really avoid dragging them. Just had to do his best not to step on them.
“I’m so sorry,” he told his unconscious passenger, trying to steer around anything sharp washed up on the sand and keep an eye over his shoulder at the moody ocean just in case. “But if you didn’t want to be dragged through the sand, you shouldn’t have washed up on my beach. I have things to do!”
His breath came in haggard heaves by the time he made it to the waves.
The steep bank leveled off a little here, becoming a long slow slope that remained at least partially covered in water even between incoming waves. Hopefully much better for recovering merfolk than the exposed sand further up. But just leaving the mer there wasn’t an option. The same stormy waves that washed him up might drag him back down, never to regain consciousness. Biting his lip, steadfastly ignoring that this had shifted from get the mer off his beach to make sure the mer is okay, Ravio pulled him in a little deeper, until the strength of the crashing waves started to throw off his balance. He set the upper body down and wrapped both hands around the tail, just above where the fanned fins at the tip started, dragging that end around into the water. He almost lost his grip when a strong swell made him stumble forward, set the mer’s entire body abruptly buoyant. Stumbling forward, he managed to grab an upper arm, fighting the pull of the water.
It didn’t feel right to just stand here like this, holding the mer’s wrist like a shackle while his body dragged along the sand, following the shifting waves. Biting his lip, keeping careful watch of the height and length and booming crash of each swell that rolled in, Ravio sank to his knees in the shallows. One arm hooked beneath a (very shapely - no, bad thoughts, down) shoulder allowed Ravio to pull the mer’s head securely as he could against his own abdomen but let the rolling waves keep washing over the gills marching down his torso.
Hoping this hadn’t all been in vain, he fumbled at the mer’s neck for a pulse with fingers gone clumsy with cold. Did they even have a pulse-point here? Yes. Yes, there it was, and feeling the weak-but-steady thump beneath his fingers made a sigh of relief gust out of him.
“Please wake up.” The wind snatched his whispered words almost before they reached his own ears. “I’ve put too much effort into you now for you to not wake up.”
A mer couldn’t drown in the traditional sense, he was pretty certain. He still wanted to fret when a stronger swell washed over his face, making Ravio sway and shuffle a little on his knees to not let the retreating water snatch too much sand out from under him.
He tugged the mer’s head a little more securely against his soaked tunic, pulled his head wrap back up from where the wind had tossed it down against his back, and settled in to wait.
With nothing to do but watch the ocean and trying to distract himself (from the danger he was in, the mental voice shrilly asking why he was taking this much risk for a complete strange, the growing cold-numbness in his limbs), he couldn’t help sneaking little peeks in between wary watchfulness for larger swells.
Floating in the surf made the size and shape of the fins more apparent. Purple-blue, they started nearly at his hips and ran down the length of the tail on either side, large and frilled and giving way to the trailing fan-like fin at the base. Those were fins meant for calmer seas than these, heavy and showy and so so pretty.
And his scales! A beautiful dusky pink that glittered with golden iridescence, transitioning to skin low enough on his torso to make Ravio yank his eyes away with a blush once he realized he was staring. His hair matched the rest of him, pink and purple and dotted with pearls. Ravio’s fingers itched to take one. Or possibly five. But he couldn’t possibly miss just one, right?
He nearly gave in to the temptation before a larger wave sent him lurching to his feet with a startled exclamation, sinking back to his knees with heart pounding and the mer’s head clutched to his belly once it rushed back out around them. He almost hadn’t made it to his feet, his legs grown numb and clumsy with cold. He couldn’t stay here much longer, but he couldn’t leave the mer either…
Beneath his hand, the motion of a throat working. He looked down.
The mer’s eyes were open.
Ravio jumped.
“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, stating the obvious to cover how he’d startled. “I was starting to think you’d nap forever!”
Piercing eyes blinked up at him, the same stormy blue as the ocean. The mer stared. His hands moved weakly beneath the water; Ravio kept a close eye on them, just in case the mer was dissatisfied with being held and decided to express that with his claws.
He didn’t try to wiggle free, or bite or scratch or blast Ravio away with magic. He just shifted a bit, tilting his head to look down at the ocean, at the arm Ravio had wrapped around him, and back up at his face. He was… kind of adorable, all groggy confusion.
“Where?” came the croaked question, and Ravio got his first glimpse of the teeth. Sharp as the claws tipping his fingers, and very incredibly close to the arm Ravio was using to keep him in place.
Not thinking about it. Noooot thinking about it.
“Lorule!” Ravio answered as cheerfully as he could manage through chattering teeth. “On my beach. Well. It’s not mine, but almost no one else comes here, and I live right up on the cliff, so it’s kind of mine? It’s rude to wash up on people’s beaches, buddy. I’ve got stuff to do!”
The mer blinked at him. A line wrinkled the space between his brows.
At least he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to claw Ravio for daring to rescue him. “I found you,” Ravio said when the mer didn’t seem to find his rant worth responding to, “washed up on the shore. Do you remember what happened?”
This received an even longer pause. So long, in fact, that Ravio wasn’t entirely certain if it was lie or truthful statement or question when the mer responded with another one-word answer.
“Storm.”
Better than nothing, he supposed.
“It was a big one!” he agreed. “Came out of nowhere, too. At least the wind’s starting to go!”
No response.
Another large swell almost knocked them over. Ravio threw back a hand to brace himself. His grip on the mer slipped, and the rushing inbound water shoved him further up into his lap. Ravio grabbed him again when the water changed direction and started pulling back outward around them, as if still trying to keep his unconscious body from washing out to sea. He wound up with the mer’s head against his sternum rather than his stomach. They blinked at each other.
The mer was terribly handsome, looking up at him like that. And he had a hand braced on Ravio’s thigh.
“My name is Ravio!” Ravio said, voice coming out rather higher than it should have.
“Link.” Still one word answers out of a voice that sounded painfully like it was grating over sandpaper. Ravio had no idea if that was normal for mer in general, normal for this one in particular, or not normal at all and instead meant he was about to die dramatically in Ravio’s arms.
“It’s nice to meet you, Link! Not under these specific circumstances, maybe, but. Oh, careful!” The last he exclaimed because the mer, Link, pushed upwards as if trying to sit more upright across Ravio’s lap, grimaced as his gills came fully out of the water, and slipped back down. He was trembling, Ravio noted with worry.
He had no idea what else to do to help him.
Because he wanted him off his beach, of course. No other reason.
Wait.
“Are you hungry?”
The rest of his belongings might be strewn about further up the sand where the ocean couldn’t steal them away, but his lunch hung from a waterproof pouch around his neck. Ravio dug it out from under the sodden scarf, trying not to notice just how clumsy and blue his fingers were becoming. He pulled apart the tidy rolls of seaweed and rice, peeling free the strips of smoked fish. “Here! It’s fish. You do eat fish, right?”
“Fish?” Link took the offered strip, frowning at it. Before Ravio could figure out the problem, he popped the piece into his mouth.
His face puckered. He cast Ravio a look as if he’d been offered something rancid. A flash of realization made Ravio grin, trying not to let it show as too sheepish.
“Oh! Oh, it’s, ah. It’s smoked. To preserve it. I promise it’s fine, it just changes the flavor. And the texture. Um. Do you like seaweed? Here, you can have the seaweed instead!”
Still chewing as if uncertain whether he’d just been offered poison, Link shook his head.
“Well. If you’re sure!”
A little early to be eating, but he didn’t want the rolls to completely fall apart so he popped what was left into his own mouth. Then he dug out another piece, because one measly little strip of fish didn’t seem like it would do much for Link’s recovery.
Between the two of them, Ravio’s modest lunch disappeared quickly.
Hopefully no more large swells came through, because Ravio could barely feel his legs anymore. He rubbed at them, wincing.
A wave slipped past them back towards the ocean. Link slid down a little in his lap. Absent, Ravio reached for his hip to keep him in place only for Link to grab his hand with a frown. Stammering apologies and feeling his face go red, he only managed to stem the urge to trip over himself spouting apologies when he noticed Link’s cheeks were also red.
He didn’t seem angry, despite the scowl. Or insulted.
Ravio could almost lay down right there in the chilly waves from sheer relief.
Casting a sideways glance upwards at him that Ravio desperately told himself not to interpret as flirtatious, Link curled around Ravio’s hand, held tight in both of his own. His skin wasn’t particularly warm. Would, in fact, be worryingly cold if he were human. But a gentle, pervasive kind of heat bloomed where his fingers wrapped around Ravio’s own. It radiated through his entire hand, easing the cramped cold in numb fingers. Spread down his wrist and into his arm and further, slowly suffusing his entire body with warmth. His legs sprang back to life with the fierce tingling itch of blood rushing back to constricted veins. His breathing, sharp and almost gasping, eased.
A warming spell. Because Link could tell that Ravio was cold. How frustratingly attractive.
“Oh! Thank you, friend.”
Link only nodded, not quite looking at him.
“I need to go.”
That should not be as disappointing as it was. Link leaving was the entire point. Still.
“Do you have a pod nearby?”
It took far too long before Link shook his head in answer. The uncertainty did nothing to assuage Ravio’s worries.
“Where are you from?” he asked, trying to at least pinpoint a direction to send him in.
“...Koholint.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Is it to the north?” Link’s fins suggested he was from mild seas, not Lorule’s chilly ocean with its frequent storms.
Link frowned. Shook his head with a brief, negating gesture of one hand. Not sure.
Odd.
“That storm must have really tossed you around, friend.”
That earned him another sideways look and a small nod.
He really was so very close. Ravio couldn’t help but notice how good the dusky pinks and purples of his hair looked against his robe, how the pearls shimmered even in the overcast light. The weight of him all draped over Ravio’s lap made his thoughts veer into decidedly unmannerly directions.
He cleared his throat.
“Well. There is a local pod, although I’m not sure where exactly they stay when the seas get rough like this.” Clan Hyrule might not be overly large in number, but their queen was well known for her powerful magic. Surely, even if they weren’t Link’s original pod, they would help him. Or at least not hurt him. Ravio just needed to convince Link to go to them.
Another nod. Link pushed himself more upright in Ravio’s lap with a worrying amount of difficulty. Ravio tried not to wring his hands, but found them simply hovering instead. “You will go find the pod, won’t you?”
The fussing finally earned him a direct glare and a brief, frustrated little snap of sharp teeth. “I’ll be fine,” Link declared with far more vehemence than he’d yet displayed.
…That shouldn’t be a turn-on. Down, Ravio. Bad.
“If you say so. I’ll be back here tomorrow at low tide. Maybe you could come by? You don’t have to of course! It would just. It would make me feel better.”
The irritation faded to an odd, searching look. From very close. When had he curled so far over the body reclining in his lap?
He had just enough time to register Link’s mouth firming with what looked an awful lot like sudden determination before Link’s tail worked furiously, churning up the sand. He grabbed hold of Ravio’s shoulders, and damn if the prick of his claws didn’t make Ravio’s body react in a way that was decidedly not fear.
The lunge towards his face still made him reel back with a startled yelp.
A clumsy peck of a kiss somehow managed to land on the corner of his mouth.
Link fell back. His hands started to slip off Ravio’s shoulders, his tail twisting as if to turn him away and. And.
No.
Absolutely not.
Quick as a snake, Ravio grabbed him back. Blue eyes flew wide. The pearls in Link’s hair rolled under his palms. Both hands cupped around his jaw, Ravio hauled Link’s face back up to his own and crushed their mouths together.
Too hard. Their teeth clashed. Link’s were as sharp as they looked; Ravio tasted iron. Link hissed, claws punching holes in Ravio’s tunic that he’d have to fix later and piercing straight through to skin, but Ravio didn’t care because he tried again and this time Link kissed him back.
The ocean interrupted their prolonged, slightly desperate liplock.
The sneaker wave he’d been so diligently watching for finally rose up in their mutual distraction.
One moment Link’s mouth moved against his in a way that had heat boiling low in his stomach, the next he was flat on his back with his head beneath the waves. He could feel himself moving, couldn’t tell if he was being pushed further up the shore or dragged out, tried to dig his heels into the sand he could feel and lunge upward but it flowed out from under his feet like the water crashing so carelessly over him.
Arms like bands of steel wrapped around him. A body moved alongside his own, the undulation of a tail moving in a way no human legs could ever hope to. Sand scraped his back. Then his head broke above the waves and he sat shivering and soaked and gasping like a landed fish as the wave rushed back out around them.
Link let go. Started to ride the retreating water back out, beyond Ravio’s reach. Ravio scrambled to catch his hand, earning himself another nick from those claws. “Come back tomorrow!” he gasped, less a request this time, not caring if he was being overbearing. The thought that Link might leave and not come back and Ravio wouldn’t know what had happened to him seemed utterly unbearable. “Please! Even if you find the pod.”
A pause. Link’s expression hardened, hesitated, gentled. A nod. He smiled, sly. One quick press of his finger to his own lips before he reached out and touched Ravio’s own, getting in the last word despite not saying a thing.
Then, with a heave and a flick of fins, he was gone.
Ravio sat alone in the shallows, watching the water for any hint of pink and finding none.
He was soaked from head to toe. He’d need to go straight home and change, hope the gift of warmth in his veins lasted long enough to see him safely up the cliff. He’d lost an entire morning’s worth of digging time. He finally gave up on finding any further hint of Link in the waves, managed to lower the closed fist pressed against his sopping, sandy scarf and look down.
In his hand, a single white pearl glimmered from the center of his palm.