Chapter Text
It was common knowledge amongst Pandorans that merpeople were real. Rare and difficult to spot, sure- but certainly real. Children grew up dreaming of the day they would spot a mermaid by the shore who would become their friend and lover and whisk them away to the ancient underwater city of Helios. Then they became adults, and those wistful fantasies turned into grim, desaturated half-hearted pleas to whatever ocean gods there may be that a creature from the sea would take them, screaming, into the cold, crushing depths from whence it came.
Taxes were dumb.
To most people, anyway. Vaughn liked taxes. He liked working with numbers and he liked the ocean, too. It only made sense that he would become a seafaring merchant captain. His vessel- the Hyperion, as he fondly called it- was operated entirely by those stubborn few who had never given up hope of one day at least catching sight of gleaming fins or- if they were lucky- the parted, laughing lips of an underwater angel. They called themselves the Children of Helios, after the underwater city itself, and truth be told Vaughn thought it was a little silly but he let them be. They were good people who had served him well during his travels and he wasn't about to alienate them over something as inconsequential as a name.
He watched them now as they unloaded their latest shipment onto the docks of a small town named Prosperity Junction, which seemed to be doing its utmost to distance itself from its namesake. He had been here before only a few times- enough to acquaint himself with the local markets and the dingy, unkempt inn, but little else. Not that he was terribly keen to find out more, but lately he'd been wondering if he oughtn't try to get to know the places he stopped at a little more intimately before they disembarked. Every now and then he found himself speaking to merchants, soldiers of the navy and- on occasion- even pirates regarding the nature of the sea and their many adventures, and it always seemed like they had so much more to say about what they'd done in just the past year!
It made sense, he supposed, since his was a trading ship after all, and exciting things weren't exactly helpful, but it was frustrating that his most exciting story of late involved the time his first mate had to stop a woman from eating her own toes after a particularly harrowing case of mislabelled medicines.
The last pirate had said he'd been inside the belly of a whale. Lucky.
That night, feeling distant and thoughtful, Vaughn left his crew to their respective mundane adventures and wandered down to the cliffside beach. He walked along the sand for a while and then, feeling a tad mischievous, scurried over to climb on the huge rocks lining the edge of the cliffs.
'Aren't you a little old to be climbing those?' he heard the echoing voices of teenagers from his youth.
'Oh yeah? Well, aren't you a little... you're dumb!' he remembered his adolescent self replying. Flawless.
His lip curled at the memory and he drove it quickly from his mind, focusing on moving from rock to rock without losing his footing. He was fortunate they weren't slippery or he probably would have cracked his head the minute he got on them. He wasn't sure how long he spent there, jumping and climbing from rock to rock, ever with an apprehensive eye on the overhanging cliff, before he decided to turn back. It was probably as little as five minutes, but he was tired, hungry, and wanted nothing more than to return to his crew at the inn for a good chat and a long night's sleep. Childish reminiscing and indulgence wasn't worth the cold biting at his skin.
He had just started on his way when he paused, brow furrowed, foot raised to take another step. He'd heard something. The thick noise of something heavy being dragged across the wet sand followed by grunting- whining? and the sharp slap of flesh against stone. What followed was a brief, contented sigh, a deep breath, and the most beautiful voice ever to have graced his ears raised in song.
He couldn't make out the words, but he also couldn't bring himself to care. He turned around again, carefully edging himself over the rocks and back towards the source, eyes wide and frantic in their search for whoever was singing the lovely melody. It took him less time than expected- as he came over the crest he spotted them and immediately settled himself in preparation for further study.
His first thought was that this person- this man, as it was now apparent- was pretty. Very pretty. Handsome, rather, though the adjective didn't seem quite as accurate with the moon casting such lovely light onto his face and slicked-back hair. His skin- his very bare skin, Vaughn noticed- glistened with cold seawater and as he continued to stare he spotted a circular tattoo covering the side of his neck. He wondered if the man had any other tattoos. He couldn't see the front of him from the direction he was facing, but he could feel himself working his way up to an introduction. He wouldn't let this opportunity slip by- he had to know who this man was, how he had come to possess such a stunning voice, and- and now he found himself wondering, with all these rocks in his line of sight, whether or not the man was actually wearing anything.
He hoped he was wearing pants.
Vaughn blushed.
He kind of hoped he wasn't.
Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, Vaughn cleared his throat and started making his way over.
"Uh- hey!" he called out.
The singer froze, his voice cutting off abruptly, then spun around and wow he was even prettier when he was looking straight at him- and promptly shrieked and fell backwards off the rock he'd been sitting on.
Vaughn exclaimed in surprise and hurried over as quickly as he could without maiming himself, blabbering apologies the whole way.
"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry- are you alright? Please tell me you're alright, I-I didn't mean to startle you- oh wow, I'm so sorry-"
"It's fine," the man called weakly. There was a bit of shuffling, then his head popped up from behind the rock to stare anxiously at Vaughn. "I- uh- just wasn't- wasn't expecting company, uh..." he fumbled, his cheeks turning red. "Aren't you a little old to be climbing on rocks?" he finished lamely.
"Aren't you a little shirtless to be singing on the beach?" Vaughn retorted immediately. As proud as he was of having a comeback, he immediately felt guilty for it and opened his mouth to apologise when he realised the man didn't even seem offended. Strangely enough, he looked more confused than angry, and the blush had faded from his face- still pretty, even prettier up close.
"What's a shirt?" he asked, and Vaughn came up short, crouching half-off a rock a few metres away. Now that he was closer he could see the rest of the singer's tattoos stretching across his collar- and on his other side, nothing. The man was missing an arm. The realisation and resulting guilt almost threatened to ovveride his incredulity at the question. Almost.
"A... shirt?" he repeated, pulling at the fabric of his own. Worn and dirty, but a good enough example.
The singer frowned, glanced between Vaughn and his outfit and opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it, slumping onto his one arm with a sigh.
"Alright, well, could you come help me up? Took me a while to get on that rock and you seem to know your way around them."
"Oh-sure!" Vaughn scrambled over the few rocks left in the way, leapt over the man's head and landed squarely on his other side. When he turned back to take his hand, Vaughn froze, fingers clamped around the singer's clammy palm, eyes locked on his legs.
Or rather, lack thereof. Where the man's legs should have been there was a long, beautiful fish tail stretching along the sand, turquoise and orange scales glinting in the light; deep crimson and purple fins twitching in preparation for Vaughn to lift him up. Vaughn had completely forgotten about helping him. Transfixed, his gaze travelled to the man's waist, where smooth, flawless skin blended seamlessly with brightly coloured scales a little past his hips. There were fins there, too- flattening themselves now against the ground as the man- the merman drew back a little, hand still clutched in Vaughn's shaky grip.
". . . Dude," Vaughn heard the merman say and he jumped, accidentally tightening his hold and digging his nails into the merman's skin. He hissed in pain and Vaughn let go immediately, backing away a few steps with his hands raised and his mouth once again spewing apologies.
"I-I'm so sorry! Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I'm so sorry, I-" he exhaled heavily, running his hands through his long hair. "I've- I didn't think- I'm-" he exhaled again. "A-are you- you're a-a merman, right?"
Now that he looked closer, he could see patches of orange on the man's face and shoulders, and little turquoise dots surrounding the edges of his face. Like a parrotfish, he noticed- a slightly miffed-looking parrotfish.
He was rubbing his hand and pouting petulantly when he looked back at Vaughn, brow furrowed in annoyance. "Yeah? What? Did the tail give me away?"
Vaughn fought the urge to laugh hysterically. "A bit? Uh-" He swallowed. What sat before him was quite literally his childhood dream come true, but as he was now starting to realise, between what he imagined when he was younger and what he was seeing now, well, his imaginary childhood mermaid crush had been quite a bit different to the merman before him. For one, this guy didn't seem quite as likely to fall into an instant, passionate and intense burning love for him or to whisk him away to his dream home in Helios. He did, however, seem likely to think him a weirdo and disappear back into the ocean if Vaughn didn't stop acting so bizarrely. The man in front of him was so much more... real than Vaughn had ever imagined.
He would have to settle for a brief encounter, then- if he was lucky, maybe a chat. It was phenomenal enough that he'd gotten to hold his hand.
Clearing his throat, Vaughn steeled himself, and did his best to act casual.
"I'm sorry," he said, reaching out again. "Merpeople are, uh- k-kind of a big deal to some humans, and me being one of them, I kind of freaked out. I wasn't expecting to see one ever and, well... Here you are!"
The man glanced warily at his hand and then back at him. The furrow in his brows lessened after a moment and he sighed, still tense but not quite so much as before. He hesitantly let Vaughn grip his hand again- gently this time- and help him back up onto his rock. "It's fine," he said after a moment. "Thanks for helping me back up."
"Sorry for scaring you off."
"I wasn't- I- you startled me. I wasn't scared," he laughed weakly, the pink once again returning to his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Uh- apology accepted, though. I'm Rhys."
He held out his hand again, and this time Vaughn took it, smiling nervously. "Vaughn," he replied. "Captain Vaughn, I guess, but just call me Vaughn."
Rhys smiled back and Vaughn felt himself melt a little inside. "So, uh... Vaughn," he coughed lightly. "Are you... new to Prosperity Junction?"
From there, they talked. Rhys made room for him on the rock and Vaughn sat beside him, the two of them relaxing slowly as the conversation lost its awkwardness. Soon they were gushing in earnest, each eager to tell as much of himself as possible in the hopes that they would learn more about the other. Vaughn told Rhys all about his life as a merchant captain, of his first mate Yvette and the rest of his crew, and about his childhood and the many myths and legends surrounding Rhys' kind- which, in retrospect, were all fairly ridiculous. Rhys laughed so hard at one stage he choked, coughing heavily and Vaughn clumsily patted his back, his hand lingering briefly to feel his skin- oddly tough, yet smooth, like soft leather.
He learned that this was Rhys' first time at the Junction and that he was originally from Helios- which was apparently exactly as magnificent as it was made out to be- and had left in search of adventure. Then, after a moment's pause, was informed with a sigh that he had not, in fact, left in search of adventure, but had grown curious when a ship passed overhead and gotten too close, become entangled in a fishing net and accidentally found himself carted back to the Junction. It had been a few weeks since then and he'd had little to occupy himself but with singing, annoying the local fishermen or collecting shiny objects on the beach.
"You know, belt buckles and metal hooks and stuff like that," he explained at Vaughn's odd look. "I like-" he huffed. "I like collecting them. They're pretty, and it's not like I'm gonna do much else with my time. I had a job back at Helios as a- well, I was demoted to cleaner- and I'd always keep anything shiny I found lying around which didn't belong to anyone. I guess it's a hobby at this point? I-it's dumb, I know-"
"No, no!" Vaughn hurried to shoosh him, elbowing him gently. "It's not dumb, it's- I think-" he swallowed thickly. "I think- I think it's kind of cute, uhm. I like to count."
". . . Count what?"
"Anything. That's it. I like working with numbers, and sometimes I just... count things. It helps me relax."
"Oh. That is weird."
"Yeah."
Rhys was grinning, staring at him in an awestruck manner that made Vaughn's insides feel funny. He could get used to being looked at like that.