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There are only a few nights each season when the moon is visible below the surface of the water.
Only on nights of the full moon when the skies are cloudless does its cool light filter down below the waves that drift along the surface of the loch.
It’s been raining on and off for months now, covering up the moonlight on the few nights it could have reached them, and delaying the ceremony again and again.
Louis feels like he’s been waiting a century.
The mating ceremony only happens once a year, on the first moonlit night after the solstice. Louis was unfortunate enough to present only a few months after last year’s ceremony, spending his first heat as a full omega under the corals where he was protected by the currents. Although he’s always known how he would present, now that it’s a reality, the waiting has felt almost unbearable. The loch isn’t that large of a place, and his eyes have been drawn to every eligible alpha he’s come across, even though he’s known most of them since childhood. They look different now, though, their colourful tails more alluring.
Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.
He also knows that that means he’ll be one of the first to pick tonight, as the most beautiful omegas are blessed to pick their mates first. It’s considered a huge honour, since the guppies they’ll eventually birth will certainly be beautiful as well, bringing favour on the whole clan.
Louis has a stubborn streak, though. He’s always been rather a fan of mating for love, and there’s someone he’s had his eye on for a long time now.
—
It’s a cloudless night, just as Louis had hoped and prayed. The moonlight dances off the scales of his tail as he swims down the lane, casting jewels of light onto the kelp that line the path. Louis’ heart pounds in his chest as he registers that this is it, this is the night that will change his life.
“Louis! Slow down, you absolute catfish!”
Louis twists his tail in front of him to stop in place and Niall barely misses swimming into him. “Shit, you know I’m not as good with maneuvering in freshwater! I don’t know how you all do it. You should come visit my birth clan sometimes and see how you like it when I run into you.”
“Salt water would bleach my hair like it bleached yours, so I’m never visiting your Irish ocean clan, sorry not sorry,” Louis says, beginning to swim forward again. Niall’s hair has almost entirely grown out the bleach blond that once framed his face, but it’s still a fair point.
“Alright hush,” Niall says. “I know it wasn’t a good look for me but it’s not my fault! I won’t take all the blame, my whole clan was blond!”
“And you made the right decision to leave,” Louis says, twisting out of the way as Niall’s orange tail comes up to slap him.
“You’re infuriating. It’s a good thing we’re both getting mated off tonight so I don’t have to keep waking up to your ugly face.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “You’ll miss me,” he says. He reaches out and grabs Niall by the wrist, urging him faster. “Now come on, I’m not going to be the cliche fashionably late omega to the mating ceremony. I’ve read enough books about that already.”
—
The mating ceremony this year has seven newly presented omegas, Louis and Niall included. The seven of them sit with their tails neatly splayed around them at the edge of the drop, right in the patch of moonlight so that it can show off their scales to the crowd (and the alphas) below. Louis leans forward and looks over the edge; the whole clan is spread out below them, some floating in place while others (mostly those with guppies) rest on the rocks at the bottom of the drop. The alphas swim in attendance in front of them, above the crowd, each of them holding the box that, if chosen, they will present to their omega. Louis can see that the proudest, the ones most sure of their chances, are at the front. There’s Luke, with his tail that shines in the light with hues of green and yellow. There’s Zayn, with a satiny dark tail that flashes purple under the moon and blue in the sunlight. There’s Olly, who definitely thinks too highly of himself with an orange tail that’s not got much shine to it at all.
The alphas near the back are the ones with duller colours, less reflective or less bright or, well, just plain smaller. An omega knows what to look for, he’s always been told. Good tails mean good genes and good genes mean healthy guppies. Louis looks down and thumps the end of his tail against the loch floor, watching the mud that filters up around it. He’s a little vain, sure, but he’s also been told from the time he was born just how beautiful his tail is, the shine and the shape and the graceful fins. He’s worked hard to keep those fins from getting torn in rough play, or losing scales from a rough heat like some careless omegas do. He’s done everything that’s expected of him, but he looks at that front row of alphas and he knows, he knows that his inner omega isn’t calling to any of them.
When the moon finally reaches directly overhead (which Louis mostly notices because Niall grabs his hand and squeezes it like he’s trying to pop the eyes off a trout), Lady Oich swims up before them and recites the ceremonial vows, her mermaid tongue twisting the words into a haunting song about being bound for life to one’s lover. Louis shivers as the words wash over him, at the magnitude of their meaning.
When she ends her speech, Louis suddenly realises he wishes badly that he wasn’t one of the best looking omegas here, because he really doesn’t want to be first.
But then Lady Oich makes eye contact with him and raises her hand, and Louis’ heart nearly stops in his chest. She’s signalled that he’s first, and that his choosing begins now.
With adrenaline pumping through him, Louis drifts upward. Released from Niall’s grip, his hand still tingly from blood loss, he makes his way slowly toward the group of alphas. He can’t smell them now, but he knows that after he’s mated, they’ll be able to walk above the surface in imitation of humans, and he’s heard that the smell of an alpha is absolutely intoxicating.
The alphas part for him, silent, as he makes his way through the group. There’s always been more alphas than omegas in the clan, and for some this is their second and even third year. Those are the ones more likely to hang toward the back, knowing their chances aren’t good, their scales aren’t bright enough.
Louis passes by Zayn and knows, as all the omegas do, that if anyone were to choose him before Niall was allowed then they would find themselves in a world of misery. Not that he wanted Zayn to start with, but all the same he smirks at him in passing.
He passes many hopeful eyes as he makes his way around the group, but it takes a while until the one he desires comes into view.
At the very back of the group, eyes downcast to the crowd below and clutching in white knuckled hands the box he’s made to offer, is the alpha that Louis’ known from day one is the one he’s wanted to claim. He couldn’t believe it when Harry wasn’t chosen in the first mating ceremony two years ago, but hadn’t let himself hope yet. Last year, when Harry once again went home without a mate, Louis’ heart soared with possibilities but also with anger, because who could possibly overlook this kind and beautiful man two years in a row? No one in this clan could rival Harry, but he presented so long before Louis that he was sure there would be no chance.
At the same time, he knows why Harry hasn’t been chosen.
His tail is long and thin, black and white striped like the zebrafish that live off the southern coast of Asia. He doesn’t fit with the rest of the clan, unnaturally long and colourless. Louis loves him for it all the more, but he’s heard the whispers, that surely Harry will become one of the clan guards, as all the single alphas eventually do.
Harry doesn’t look up at first, clearly assuming Louis would pass him by as well. Louis has to pause in front of him, ruining the dramatic moment until Harry finally acknowledges him, locking eyes with him and a look of pure shock on his face.
Louis reaches out and takes the box from his hands, because Harry clearly isn’t going to offer it.
He opens it and takes a good look at the ring inside. It’s a hoop of silver, heavy and sturdy with two sharp ends with a small gap between and an inscription in mer-script that reads you bring me home.
“Are you sure?” Harry asks, voice quiet and expression concerned. Louis knows that the eyes of the whole clan are on him now, and that he’d really rather this ceremony go off without having to have a long in-depth conversation about why he’s pined after this man for years (his kindness, his gentleness, his beautiful striped tail to name a few), so instead he takes the ring out and hands the box back to Harry, who’s shaking fingers nearly drop it.
“I pledge myself,” says Louis, reciting the ceremonial words carefully. “Mind, heart and spirit, eyes and tongue, to my true alpha, for as long as the seas will flow.”
He brings the ring up to his mouth and slips his tongue between the gap, quickly pinching it closed and wincing as it pierces through his tongue.
As a few drops of blue blood make their way into the water, the crowd below cheers. Louis can see the confusion on the faces of a few of them and knows he’s going to get a lot of people questioning him later. He may have just made himself a bit of a social pariah. Those with beautiful scales always choose those with beautiful scales, after all.
Louis reaches forward and grabs onto Harry’s free hand, intertwining their fingers and then intertwining their tails. Twisted together they sink to the floor below, among the crowd.
Harry’s grip on his hand is even stronger than Niall’s had been. “Are you okay?” Louis asks, quietly, as the ceremony begins again above them. He has a bit of a lisp now with the silver piece on his tongue. He’ll have to get used to that.
“Uh,” says Harry. He stares directly into Louis’ eyes. “You are the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen,” he says. “And you’re wearing my ring.”
“I am,” Louis says.
“Are you sure?” Harry asks again.
“It’s a bit late now,” Louis says. “But of course I’m sure. I’ve been sure since I first laid eyes on you when we were guppies.” The metal of the ring clinks against his teeth.
“Oh,” says Harry, and then he blinks. “I’m going to build you the best home in the loch and then give you a million guppies to fill it with.”
Louis laughs. “Slow down,” he says. “I’d love that, but kiss me first.”
And Harry does, the slide of his scales a welcome feeling of warmth as their tails intertwine ever tighter. A promise of togetherness.