Chapter Text
The sky was clear, for the first time in days, without a single cloud or endless rain of frogs to keep Equius from going out and practicing. The mer who insisted he was a prince insisted that he be brought along. He sat propped up against a rock, gnawing the leg off of a dead frog, and occasionally dipping his fingers into a bucket of seawater and damping down his tail.
“Okay, just listen for a second. How about you try shootin' a little less hard? Like, and not break the bow, is my suggestion.” His wisdom exposed to the world, Eridan tore off another leg with his vicious shark teeth.
Equius’ gloved hand shook. Sarcasm was beneath him, he repeated internally. He did not need to lower himself by acting overly surprised by Eridan’s useless suggestion. He decided to not say anything at all.
He drew back, as gently as possible, and the bow snapped in his hands. He flung it down, even more frustrated than usual now that he had an audience.
“If that was you bein' gentle, I don‘t want to see what your first girlfriend looks like these days,” Eridan commented.
“Shut your mouth,” Equius said, throwing the bow halves onto the sand.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, you want one a these frogs? I only like the legs.”
“I don’t eat meat,” Equius said, briefly thrown by the topic shift.
“Bleah,” Eridan stuck out his tongue, “I was startin' to wonder. I’m not goin' to knock the occasional salad--maybe a bed a seaweed under some dolphin steaks--but as much crap as you eat, I’d probably die.”
“Do you ever shut up?” Equius asked. “Your nonstop chatter is getting on my last nerve. Of course you don’t eat vegetables. Your people are primarily carnivores. You actually would die if you only ate what I ate.” He pressed the palm of his hand to his face and slowly dragged down, groaning. “Your ignorance of your own species astounds me.”
“This comin' from a guy who didn’t know if I had ribs,” Eridan said, affronted.
“No. The equivalent would be if I didn’t know I had ribs. This is not a difficult concept.”
Eridan grabbed the bucket of water with his one good arm and dumped it all over his tail. “Take me back inside. If you’re just goin' to call me ignorant and not practice, I might as well get my delicate frame outta this sun.”
Equius was aghast. “You insulted me! And you--” he cut himself off and took a deep breath. Despite Eridan’s many claims of “delicacy,” he was actually healing far faster than Equius had ever seen before. It would only be a few more days until he swam out of Equius' life forever, and he could get back to his pointless and lonely practices.
“Oh, hey, yeah I did,” Eridan said, “But I was just doin' that coach thing, you know, where you tell someone they’re shit so much they get all determined to prove you wrong. It’s basic strategy, there, Eq. I’m takin' this seriously.”
“No. You aren’t,” Equius said.
“Whatever, just shoot another one a your endless supply a bows. You know, maybe that’s the problem. You need one that’s made a little stronger than normal, right?”
Equius trotted over and dropped one of his bows on the ground next to Eridan. “Try to bend it.”
Eridan frowned. “This is where I find out it’s already made a iron or whatever, right?” He tried to bend it with one hand, but nothing happened. It didn’t even budge. “Maybe get a sea witch to enchant it, make it unbreakable, I don’t know.”
“Yet more useless advice,” Equius said, walking back over to his pile of unbroken bows. “I might as well have them enchant for me a bow that shoots itself.”
“That’d save you a lot of time, you have to admit,” Eridan said. “But let me guess--this shootin' thing isn’t just about shootin', is it? So you’d just be goin to buy a cake and turn it in to your bakin' master. The cake’s not the point.”
“Something like that.” He picked up a bow, and somehow managed to snap it before he even got it into position. He stared at the broken pieces, his face turning a darker and darker shade of blue.
“Woah, shit.”
His grip tightened, and he marched over to the tree with the target on it. He drew his fist back, veins popping out on his bulging bicep.
“Uh, Eq--” Eridan was looking up at the sky.
“That. Is. Not. My----”
A clap of thunder interrupted his tantrum. They both looked up in time to see lightning finish tracing a path across a bright blue sky. It was only a few seconds later that there was more thunder, and Eridan was already struggling back towards Equius’ hut.
Equius didn’t bother to waste time. He hurried past Eridan, picking up his indignant, shrieking body and rushing them both inside. Half a minute after the first rumbling of thunder, the still blue sky was pouring down rain, or something like rain.
Eridan yelped when he was dropped. “You just about rebroke my ribs, you ass,” he rubbed his tail. “Not droppin' me, just pickin' me up with whatever you’ve got instead of a normal hand.”
The stables shook, boards in front of the windows rattling. Equius looked down and realized he was still carrying his broken bow. Fudgenickles.
“It’s like you’re a statue made outta stone and I don’t know, muscle,” Eridan curled up against the wall, looking around. His bright purple eyes were wide open. “I don’t like this, Eq. We can’t go ten minutes without one a these storms.”
“The sea witches and the human wizards have gone out of control,” Equius said, moving away from the window, “That is their nature.”
“Sure, but this is ridiculous. I’m never goin' to be able to get back if this keeps up, and I’m goin' to smell like horse permanent like and I’m already sick enough from it as it is.”
“That is easily rectified. If you are displeased with my hospitality, leave.” He settled down on a pile of hay near where the mer was still checking himself for injuries. “Did I actually reinjure you? I assumed you were whining.”
“If I was whinin' I had every reason to! I’m goin' to get a bruise here!” he pointed to the spot right above where the scales of his tail met what Equius thought of as normal flesh.
Equius made a dismissive gesture. He had accidentally damaged others far worse than that. It was almost impressive, how hardy the sea folk were. Or at least this particular specimen. “You will stop your whining. I will leave you out in the storm, next time.”
The ground under the stable was shaking, now, and Eridan drew his tail up against his chest, protective. “Not sure you did me many favors, if’n this roof comes down on our heads.”
“The shelter was built strong. There is no need to concern yourself.”
“Yeah, but stronger than a witch? I’m not buyin' it.” He put his hand on the wall behind him, trying to hold himself steady.
Equius didn’t say anything. He frowned and examined his shelter. He felt absolutely helpless, buffeted about by powers far greater than his own. He shuddered.
Sweet smelling purple rain began to leak through the roof before the storm was over. No matter how many times Equius repaired it, water somehow always managed to find a path through and pool on the floor. Eridan caught some of the liquid in a metal cup and sampled it, against Equius’ order. He said it tasted like wine and dirt. It made him fall asleep, but there seemed to be no other ill effect.
When Equius went outside, it was still drizzling. He covered his nose and mouth with a towel to avoid breathing in the dizzy-making fumes. The beach was a mess, and the ocean itself was a kaleidoscope of colors. He quickly backed up as water lapped at his hooves. Whatever was going on between the human wizards and the sea witches was not letting up.
Eridan was awake again when he returned. He had propped himself up against the wall and was idly picking at some scabbing on his shoulder. “All clear, right?” he asked, looking up.
“Do not pretend I should understand the context of what you are asking,” Equius said.
“…you turned a nice color while you was out there,” Eridan said. “It can’t still be goin'. Those bi--“ he paused, like it occurred to him that they could be listening, “--attractive female magic usin types, they haven’t let up?”
“The sea has calmed down,” Equius said, taking the towel off his face. “But it is dangerous to breathe.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Eridan groaned and slid to the floor. He was unable to take anything in stride. “Not that I’m not enjoyin' our lessons or whatever, but I gotta get back before they decide I’ve kicked it and claim all a my properties. What if this is as clear as it gets? Maybe I should risk it.”
“Neither of us is deriving any enjoyment from your lessons. So-called lessons. We are both agreed that you should leave.”
“Okay, but you don’t have to be so harsh about it,” Eridan lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Purple dripped down from the leak in the ceiling and hit his face. He just sighed, not even wiping away it away as it slowly trailed down his face.
“We need to look at this rationally. You should not leave yet, because you are not healed enough, but I would not stop you from leaving if the storm had stopped.” He came over and looked down at Eridan, sprawled out on the floor like a fresh catch.
“The storm’s never gonna stop.”
Equius nodded. “Agreed. You will need to travel up along the shore and see if there is a place where they haven’t touched.”
The light inside Equius’ home went dim and something splattered in through the open door. Equius hurried back over to close out the storm. When he turned around, Eridan had shifted back into a sitting position.
“You volunteerin' to take me?” he asked. They both knew Eridan couldn’t just stroll up the shore line. When he was healthy, he could probably make tolerable speed dragging himself with his arms, but as he was, he would just reinjure himself.
“I have no choice.”
"Well, no, I'd say you have a choice and you could just leave it alone, but I appreciate it anyway," Eridan said, shrugging. "But if you gotta be a dramatic somethin' or other, then okay. You'll help me out because I said so."
Equius found this idea unpleasantly appealing. He shivered. Yes, he liked this. He would only help this sea creature because he had been ordered to do so.
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"I'm not puttin' that on," Eridan crossed his arms over his chest. "That's the end a this idea. It was nice while it lasted, thinkin' I might get to go home, but it's done."
"You have no idea what an honor it is for to be allowed to ride on my back," Equius said, slowly. He would not allow himself to get angry. He had spent an entire day building a saddle that would hold one of the mer comfortably, only to have it called "obscene."
"It looks like custom bondage gear and I'm not touchin' it," Eridan said, lifting his chin up. "I'll stay here and you can scout out the area all on your own."
"It looks like--" he got angry. "--It does NOT look like--like--" Oh, his blessed ancestors, did it really? He held it up. "The straps are to hold you on."
"Yeah, you know that and I know that, sure," Eridan said. "I guess I kind of know that, anyways."
Equius crushed the cloth in his hands. The material was supple enough that it did not break like any number of other materials would have.
"I mean, of course I get that!" Eridan corrected himself. "Well, it's not like anyone passin' us by isn't gonna wonder what the hell our situation's about and this way we can be pretty sure they aren't gonna stick their snouts in and make a scene about it."
"You are right. They will wonder what the huckleberry we are doing, regardless. If they mistakenly decide it is their business, well." He crushed the cloth in his hands, again.
"You'll turn 'em into butter. All right. Guess a brief humiliation's better than bein' stuck here like a beached whale forever. Bloated carcass all rottin' on the shoreline."
"Keep such mental images to yourself," Equius said. "And turn your head. I am going to dress."
"Oh, sure I--wait." Eridan looked up at him. "You've been naked this whole time, and I gotta look away because you're putting on clothes? Eq, what the hell? I'm all for cultural exchange, but whatever that's about is fucked up."
"I prefer not to be watched. It is not necessary to have a fit over every single request I make," he said.
"Stop makin' fucked up requests, then." Eridan turned away and looked at the wall. "What's with the need to cover up, though. I thought lettin' it hang out was part a the eternal dignity a the centaur soul, and coverin' up was bringin' shame to your ancestors and fellow herdspeople. Aren't they gonna be sheddin' tears over this? Like a single tear trailin' down the side a their noble visages, somethin' like that."
Equius frowned. "I will not cover up in my own stable, no matter how many times you complain."
"I get that, I was just--ugh, never mind. It's just beyond me." Eridan rolled his eyes at the wall.
"Clearly." He struggled into his clothes. "You may look again." He pulled a shirt on over his head. His lower half, the part Eridan found so obnoxiously disconcerting, had already been completely covered. It was customary and polite to cover oneself, usually with a simple coat-like garment, when you thought it possible one might run into humans or other creatures likely to be shamed by the superior centaur physique.
"Great, now I'm underdressed," Eridan said, annoyed. "I'm gonna be strapped bare ass to your back in some kinda creepy bondage gear while you're all done up like a gentleman. Give me a strip a cloth or somethin' to tie around my waist, at least."
Equius obliged him, once they had established that "ass" was not an appropriate word to use in place of "buttocks," and they headed outside. He carefully pulled Eridan up onto his saddled back and Eridan sat there, tail hanging down over Equius' side, trying to securely tie the strip of green cloth that he bitterly complained clashed with his scales.
The straps, once on, looked more like a seatbelt than like some kind of lewd sex tool. Equius was relieved. "If we continue along the shore for long enough, we will eventually leave the influence of the humans' tower."
Eridan leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Equius' neck. "Wake me when we get there, Eq."
Equius began to trot northward, letting the cool pink rain damp down his hair and change the color of his white shirt. Eridan's arms soon went limp and the only thing holding him on was the straps on the saddle. He snored gently into Equius' hair while Equius tried his best to pretend that the mer wasn't there. He was walking alone along the beach, enjoying the wind brushing against him and the warmth of the sun when it was out, completely free of the irritating buzzing of seadweller whining in his ears. His entire trip home would be like that. It was going to be exquisite.