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Chains rattled on the deck of the ship, the screams that rang out like music to the captain’s ears as he leered down at the beast hauled aboard. It had been bloodied when they found it, that unnatural blue ichor leaking from its wounds as it shot through the sea--fast as an arrow on a good day, perhaps, but reduced to the equivalent of an unsteady limp. Add in iron harpoons, the lucrative offer on his plate for a mer-beast to be added to the Novae Empire’s menagerie of Magickals, and there lay a perfect recipe for retirement as the most terrifying privateer known to man…and monster. “Set sail for the City of Gold!” he roared to his men--humans, one and all, brought up to hate the beastly Magickals as much as any sensible creature. “The king will reward us handsomely, and then, gentlemen…” A smile full of rotting teeth--teeth he would plate in titanium and gold once the king rewarded them, and feel no pain from ever again. “Then we will be the
wealthiest rulers these seas have ever known!”
Cheers rose up from his crew as bonds of iron were wrapped around the mer-beast. It squirmed and screeched pathetically, claws raking nasty gashes into the fine wood of his ship, fins pinned back against his head. “And as for the creature darin’ to mar my ship with it’s filthy fingers…do as you like with it. The king only said alive and beautiful to look upon--never said we couldn’t rough the freak up before then, eh?” It was laughter that bounced from sailor to sailor now as some turned their gazes upon the creature, curled as far away from them as possible, eyes practically glowing with fear and hate as it bared needle teeth at them all. It
was
gorgeous, the captain decided, with wild hair the precise shade of gold that made one think of coins and riches (and he did a
lot
of thinking about coins and riches) and eyes the color of the rare green sapphire he’d seen in the king’s trove once, covered in scales of obsidian and glittering emerald. A treasure most definitely worth its price.
He wondered if the king would pay less if he knew what the crew might have planned for it--then wondered if the king had to find out at all. “Gag it,” he commanded. “So that it cannot sing itself back to the depths of that watery hell it came from.” There was some grumbling at this even as they obeyed--they’d been at sea for a long, long time looking for one of these creatures, and no doubt they all required some release for the inevitable tempers that rose, but… “Would you really want to risk knockin’ it’s teeth out only for them teeth to bite you?” Another round of understanding chuckles and leers, and he grinned wider. “No, my friends, we’ll do thing better and worse to this beast, better and worse--”
A scream cut him off, and one of his men vanished into thin air.
The captain paused, staring at the hole in his gathered crew where one of them had stood moments before. Seconds later, another one let out a gasp before disappearing--no, not disappearing. Being
snatched away
by something, something that moved like a blur and blended in perfectly to the gray fog rolling over the pewter seas. “Who’s there?” he snarled out, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword as the others drew their weapons, only to be answered by another terrified screech as another vanished, this time with drops of blood left in his place.
Drops of blood--and a bone dagger carved to look like a feather. The captain stared at it in horror as a shudder ran through the men as one, no one turning as another sailor vanished--
died.
“Oh, good!” a voice chirped from behind him, and he choked as the edge of a blade was suddenly pressed to his throat. “You already know what it means. That means I won’t have to go through those
boring
introductions, but--just for the sake of courtesy,
propriety,
you understand--would you mind sharing the meaning of that blood and dagger with the class?”
The captain had a thousand replies to that--
burn in hell, get away from me, witch, murderer, monster-beast--
but he was no fool, and he valued his life, gold-titanium plated teeth or no gold-titanium at all. “It means we’re marked for death, boyos,” he rasped against the blade as the crew stared up at him in blatant terror.
“Very
good,
Captain! I do hate to share that title with people like you, you know, but alas… At least it’s the only one I absolutely
have
to share; you should know how terrible I am at that. Pirate’s curse, I suppose!” He could feel breath tickling his ear, warm and sweet, close as a lover. “Now tell them who I am—for full marks on this
impromptu
quiz?”
He swallowed, feeling the blade dig in. “Yer the Lost Valkyrie,sworn enemy of King Maerys of the Novae Empire, Captain of the
Icarus.”
“Correct~
” He felt blood bead at his throat as the dagger pricked the artery. “And now my name, darling—so the
real
fun can begin.”
Gods above me…
“Elizabeth,” he croaked. “The Pirate Queen.”
A laugh rang out from behind him. “Look at that! The bastard certainly knows his stuff, doesn’t he? Unsurprising, though—I’m a bit of a terrifying myth among your lot, aren’t I? Turn around and tell me…do I live up to the legend?” Quick as a flash, the blade against his throat was gone, his sword drawn from its sheath and tossed overboard with the flick of a hand, freeing him to turn and face a nightmare.
Elizabeth, the Pirate Queen, was just as the legends said—beautiful as a blade, and every bit as deadly. Silver hair cascaded down her back haphazardly, bangs swept out of her face with a long red sash, a black tri-cornered hat with a feather pluming from it set upon her head. Her legendary black longcoat flared in the wind like an armor of pure shadow, the white blouse and brown waistcoat beneath stark against the unforgiving sky. Scarlet danced around her hips, the broad sash of her blood-red skirt wrapped around dark legging-clad legs. He swallowed thickly as the sun glinted off of metal--armored boots of silver, hilts of twin swords, wickedly curved…and a single, shining blue earring dangling from her earlobe.
Her eyes—her eyes blazed an unholy, gleeful gold.
And her
wings
...four powerful wings stretched from her back, silver and black and gray and flecked with blood. They said she dipped a feather in the blood of each enemy she slew—and that she was running out of feathers. But not of
enemies,
no, the Pirate Queen would always be a monster, and monsters were
always
hunted. And yet she evaded every trap, every hunter, and spread her trail of blood ever-farther into the seas she ruled.
He dreaded the thought of the day her wings went red.
Full, crimson lips curved into a dark, wicked smirk. “Well?” the Queen purred. “Do I haunt your dreams and chase your nightmares?”
He’d thought she wasn’t real—
assured
his crew that she wasn’t, but here she was. The Pirate Queen in the flesh, warrior of the Magickal, another beautiful monster, one who
wasn’t in chains
, who could kill them all with a flick of her hand. The cries of his men made him certain of what her smile told him: her crew of young gods and beasts and unmatched warriors had surrounded them, small in numbers but unmatched in strength.
They were all going to die.
“Yes.”
That smile turned into a terrifying grin, lips peeking back from sharp canines as she pulled laid her hand on the hilt of one of the twin swords, sheathing the dagger in a contraption strapped around her thigh. “Then you know what I’m here to do.” She unsheathed her blade in a slow, fluid movement, drawing it out--a cocky move, perhaps, for another swordsman, but for this monster, it wasn’t cocksure recklessness. It was well-earned confidence exaggerated to terrify him, and
succeeding.
He swallowed thickly again as she started stalking around him, tracking her movements as she halted in front of him and glanced to her crew. The captain followed her gaze, mouth going dry and bile rushing up as she leveled her sword at them and said, “Give and take no quarter. One lives…the rest, dispose of however you like.” The smile that the Queen turned on him was sickeningly sweet, as though the sounds of screaming and sobs and men begging for their lives was music to her ears. “And as for you, Captain…you’re
mine.”
Gods, no.
He stumbled backwards--
run, run away, run!--
but she was upon him before he could take more than half a step, a hand around his throat and a knee pressed to his gut as she slammed him to the ground with ease. Steel--her fingers were like steel around his throat, strong as a vise and tight as shackles as she grinned, those unholy eyes alight with murderous glee. “See, Captain, you’re an asshole, and I
hate
assholes,” she chirped, terrifyingly cheery as she removed her hand, only to replace it with the edge of her blade, that steel-vise grip wrapping tightly around his wrist and slamming it to the ground. “Not only that, you’ve been capturing and selling innocents like
property!
And here I thought privateers were known for being more
honorable
than us pirates.”
“They ain’t—”
Her fingers tightened, blade pressing closer, and he wheezed as she beamed down at him, her eyes alight with what he could only describe as
madness
. “Ah-ah-ah, Captain! This is my show now, my
masterpiece,
and you’re the first scumbag that the great villain slays on her glorious conquest.” Her lip curled into a sudden, mischievous smirk. “But you know what irritates me the most, Captain O Captain? You can answer that, you know--oh, don’t be such a baby, I’ll lift my sword a bit.” That iron edge rose just enough for him to gasp in the slightest bit of air, and she tilted her head, widening her eyes innocently. “Now spit it out--do you know what annoys me above all?”
The captain managed to swallow, take a breathe that he knew very well could be his last, and hissed, “No.” If it wasn’t the trading and selling of Magickals, or being a privateer for King Maerys, then no, he had no clue what had pissed her off to this point.
Elizabeth laughed. “Well, isn’t that a shame. I’ll say it loud and clear, then, Captain--you’re a fool to claim you rule the seas.” She spread her wings wide, silver and gray and scarlet glimmering as the sword pressed down again, a thin line of blood welling up. Any hope that she might let him live vanished as a clean feather swept across it, the tip now shimmering crimson.
“After all,
I
am the Pirate Queen.”
Her hand took the place of her sword, and
squeezed.
“And I do not take kindly to usurpers.”
The last thing he saw before she crushed his throat to a bloody pulp was the Queen’s unholy smile and eyes of glowing, devilish gold.
Her eyes--and a King’s ruin.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The world was dark when Meliodas awoke, drenched in shadow and so much smaller than he remembered. Darkness, fortunately (though he struggled to call anything about this situation fortunate) , was easy to see through--living underwater where the sun couldn’t always reach made it easy for him to make out his surroundings, though no easier for him to wrap his head around it. Wood--that stuff is wood, isn’t it, and a table--and this soft thing I’m on, it’s a bed, I’m-- Sailors had him. His claws slid out, digging into the strange softness of the sheets, leaving deep gouges in the bizarre mattress. White fluff drifted out from the slices he’d left it it, little individual bits light and cloud-soft when he touched it--like the down feathers that sometimes drifted down from gulls flying over the ocean. Light flickered in from a tiny circle covered with glass, the floor of that same stained wood illuminated by the sunbeams it let in. A dream--he’d dreamed that a dagger of blood and bone had slammed into the deck of the cruel sailors’ ship, that the gods had risen from the sea and sky and stars and left the ship dripping with blood. He’d seen wings of crimson and silver blot out the sun even as the iron sapped his strength, watched bare hands rip through armed soldiers like they were nothing, had believed he’d wake in the sea once more, adrift, waiting, a perfect target-- He was still a target. And now he was a captive on top of it, going to be sold to some zoo or a scientist, he would be dissected , torn apart from the inside out to see what made him tick, vials of his blue blood taken, scales sold to be worn as pretty jewelry by wealthy human ladies, claws ripped out and turned to pendants for lords to wear--or he’d be leashed, forced to serve the landwalking monster known as King Maerys of the Novae Empire as a mindless soldier, fangs tipped in metal so his bite would have that much more impact, his magic enhanced at the cost of his mind, another tool of war. Both were fates worse than death. Both were fates he would not accept. Meliodas pushed himself into a sitting position, the feelers streaming from his back curling up and looping around the bedposts to hold him up better. He inhaled sharply, gills closing up as his head spun from the sudden intake of pure, undiluted oxygen, so different from the water he was used to, before leaning forward with a hiss. His claws sank into the wood of the bedframe, and he hauled himself forward an inch--only to fall back against the soft mattress with a screech as his tail slipped out from under him, unused to the lack of extra support. He knew that air didn’t cradle a person like water did, had no buoyancy to it, but he’d never fully experienced it, had never even been wholly out of the water. He wondered distantly if this was where he’d die--or where the beginning of the end was. The door (somehow, through the wild panic slowly taking over every inch of his being, he recognized that doors kind of looked like the ones back home--less grand, made of that same wood substance, but still functional) suddenly rattled, slamming against the wall. A shudder ran through him as icy, wild fear crystallized in his veins, fangs snapping out as a shadowed figure ducked into the prison. No--no, don’t hurt me, get away get away get away get AWAY-- Meliodas’s tail whipped out from where it was coiled beneath him, a shriek ripping from his throat as he lashed it wildly, twenty feet of pure muscle that had cracked the spines of orca whales and sea serpents in the past, a tail that propelled him through the water at speeds unmatched by any landwalker ship, a tail that he could use as a weapon, that he wouldn’t let become a weapon for a nightmare king that stalked the dreams of Magickals like the bogeyman-- A tail that a woman caught in her scarred hand like it weighed nothing and shifted aside with ease, shooting him a blinding grin that glinted even in the shadows. “Well, that’s no way to greet a lady, sharkbait.” Meliodas opened his mouth to snap something--maybe about the sharkbait comment, maybe a plea to let him go because anyone who could catch a terrified siren’s tail when they were thrashing it at top speed was not someone worth fighting, maybe a confused noise of some kind because he distinctly remembered the crew that speared his tail (the tail that he now realized was completely healed, what the hell) being made up entirely of men--but the words died in his mouth as she stepped into the light, dropping his tail unceremoniously to the ground. He knew that face, that smirk, those blood-tipped feathers as sure as any sea-dweller did. All had heard of her exploits, though no one was sure if she was the hero of the story, the villain cloaking herself as good, or something else entirely. Meliodas had his hopes, his little brother (gods, how he suddenly missed him, with a fierce ache that made his flared fins go limp) his doubts, but… Well, the wanted posters had definitely not done the Pirate Queen justice. He gaped at her as she folded her wings behind her, one hand resting on her hip as her booted foot tapped warningly against his tail. That grin never faltered for a second, but he didn’t miss the finger that tapped lightly against one of the two sleek blades sheathed at her side, didn’t doubt for a second that he was entirely at her mercy--or lack thereof. She cocked her head to the side, a swift, short motion that reminded him of the seagulls he sometimes caught sight of when he surfaced near land, before she snorted. “Well, getting you up on deck is going to be a task and a half--how do you lot manage…scalding sunspots, that’s gotta be twenty feet of tail minimum, eh? Must suck to haul yourself around on those skinny arms whenever you surface.” She sighed. “Well, I gotta get the crew’s verdict on ya before I make my offer, so we ought to head off.” Meliodas found himself growing increasingly lost, staring at her as she hefted his tail over her shoulder easily, tanned skin rippling with muscle as she stalked over to the strange bed and snaked an arm around his shoulders. He jolted out of his strange trance at her touch, panic and shock rocketing through his veins like blinding, crackling lightning, but she didn’t blink as he started thrashing and hissing, powerful arms holding him steady with ease. Holding him captive with ease. No, no, no, no-- A hand cupped his cheek and he froze, eyes widening as they snapped to meet her gaze. Blue--her eyes were blue, deep as the sea and clear as the sky. Not the unholy champagne-gold of the legends, the eyes of a savage monster who revelled in carnage and conquest, but the eyes of another Magickal. And there was a promise in those eyes--a promise of safety, of no harm, no hurt, no evil. Not toward him, anyways, and not today. The Pirate Queen…had a soul. Had honor. Maybe she was more hero than villain after all. He opened his mouth in protest as she lifted him up with a grunt, eyes widening slightly as she adjusted her hold before shooting him a wicked grin. “Don’t let those bloody tales fool you--I’m a softy at heart,” she cooed, nudging open the door and carrying him out--carrying hundreds of pounds of muscle like it was nothing ( gods, her arms felt strong, like silk-cloaked steel, coils of iron lying beneath soft tanned skin). “Somehow, I seriously doubt that.” The words, raspy and halting--he realized suddenly that his throat felt like sandpaper, his gills sealed against the pure, dry oxygen and his throat unused to taking it in--slipped out before he could stop them, blood rushing to his face as warmth spread up the back of his neck. “Ah--” The Queen barked a laugh, her footsteps shockingly steady despite the swaying of the passageways. “So you do have a tongue! And a sharp one, too. Excellent--you’ll fit right in here.” Her bright blue eyes swept him up and down, to the webbed ruff poking out from behind his pointed ears, pinned to his skull in agitation, to the fins at the end of his long, sleek dark tail--curious, appraising eyes, pale silver brows arching as they passed through patches of shadow and sunlight. “You got a name to go with it, sharkbait?” Please don’t let that name stick. “Meliodas.” “Meliodas~” She drew out his name as they reached a strange structure, a series of ledges carved out of the gleaming wooden interior of the ship (he realized with a start that it was clean, smelled a thousand times better than the deck that stunk of paint and cheap landwalker alcohol and other, worse things). “Meliodas, Meliodas, Meliodas--yes, I like that. Judging by your reaction, you already know me-- a bit saddening, of course, I love a good dramatic introduction..” She sighed, shrugging. “I suppose I did get a rather nice entrance while taking out that Novae-sellout, though…” Meliodas stiffened, mind racing dizzyingly as she ascended the wooden structure. Feather-shaped dagger--six figures, six monsters--red blood and silver feathers--young gods, her soldiers… “You really are the Pirate Queen.” Her eyes seemed to blaze at that, and his blood turned to ice as her lips curved up in a smile edged in razors and sunfire. “I prefer Elizabeth among friends.” “Friends?” She shrugged once more as they ascended into the sunlight, the familiar scent of the sea, clear and bright and tinged with salt, rushing in on a shining breeze. “Potential friends too, sharkbait.” He hissed as the edge of his tail hit the edge of the hole she’d carried him out of, the glancing pain made worse by the soreness left behind from oh, right, having a gods-damned harpoon slammed through it. “Ah, sorry ‘bout that,” she added, her tone infuriatingly light and breezy, bright and amused, and he had the sneaking suspicion that he’d come out of every interaction wanting to shake her violently by the shoulders. “No, you’re not,” he snapped, scowling at the sun-bleached wood his tail trailed over, refusing to meet any of the eyes that he could feel on him or look up at the ship he was captive on. He wasn’t sulking, he wasn’t, he was a grown siren and a prince and he didn’t sulk. He was just…refusing to rise to her bait. Yeah, that was it. Gods, I’m so stupid. Elizabeth chuckled, and he yelped suddenly as she set him unceremoniously on a barrel. “This may come as a surprise to you, sharkbait, but I have feelings. One of those is sympathy; I know how it feels to hit a sore arm or leg against something and it sucks. Hence, me being sorry.” She patted his head with one deceptively delicate hand, and he hissed, flattening the webbed ruff behind his ears to his skull. “It’s a hard concept to grasp, I know. Just do your best~” “Go to hell,” he spat, claws digging into the wood of the barrel as he wrapped his tail tightly around it in an attempt to keep himself balanced as the ship swayed back and forth worryingly. He opened his mouth to comment on it-- some pirate you are, your ship is about to fall apart-- before it clicked: the ocean moved, even on the surface, though the currents weren’t always quite so powerful. The rush of waves lapping against the hull barely audible beneath the clamor of the figures he could now see manning the Pirate Queen’s infamous Icarus . How dumb is this, he thought with a scowl, a siren who forgot that the sea has waves? Zeldris would be laughing himself into the abyss right now. No wonder the landwalker death-trap is bobbing like a kelp hammock. Elizabeth’s grin curled into a wicked smirk as he slapped his fins against the deck of the ship impatiently, feathers ruffling as she shifted her wings. “Already been, darling--and it spat me out.” Ugh. He bared his needle-sharp fangs at her, only to receive an amused look in return before she slung an arm around his shoulders, raised her hand in the air, and whistled . Only years of training in maintaining appearances kept Meliodas from wincing; he’d heard louder things, of course, but everything seemed clearer, sharper above the surface, like the blizzards that raged over the Northern Sea were now roaring in his ears and freezing him solid. He did stiffen, though, when nine short, sharp whistles sounded in response and the figures he’d seen manning the ship (who he’d seen even before that, he realized with a shock that felt as sharp as electricity, decimating the good score and a half of men handling the slaver ship that had hauled him aboard and laughing as they did) descended from their positions, lining themselves up before their captain. None of them looked even remotely similar to each other, and power hummed around every one of them-- Magickals. A Magickal Pirate Queen, with a court to match. It would be awe-inspiring if he wasn’t so terrified. “Meliodas,” Elizabeth announced, looking like she knew exactly what he was feeling and thoroughly enjoying it, “meet the illustrious crew of the Icarus.” She swept an arm out grandly, long fingers that reminded him of the musicians who often played at palace celebrations pointing to the tallest of the lot--a lanky, broad-shouldered man with a razor-sharp grin and a shock of white hair, scarlet eyes marking him as one of the legendary Sgaoileadh, Magickals who could snatch the air from an enemy’s lungs, crush a heart in a person’s chest, slow a pulse to stopping without lifting a finger. Great. So that makes two rare Magickal species with the power to kill me from a mile away. “Introduce yourselves to the new rescue, would ya? The Sgaoileadh chuckled, the noise so low it seemed almost like a dark, savage purr. “Sure thing, Cap’n.” Those bloodred eyes zeroed in on Meliodas, who couldn’t stop the sudden, sharp pulse of fear in his chest; still, he met the man’s gaze, schooled his expression to look bored, disinterested--certainly not frightened. You’ve faced down krakens and ridden sea serpents into battle, he reminded himself fiercely. You do not back down. Even when you’re faced with… this. “Well, kid, it’s clear that Elizabeth’s already made up her mind--” Meliodas blinked in surprise as the Captain rolled her eyes, but did nothing to curb her subordinate’s…well, insubordination. The man grinned wolfishly at him, curved canines flashing in the sunlight. “Name’s Ban, Sgaoileadh, and our darlin’ Cap’n’s first mate.” First mate? Oh--maybe that’s like a deputy? Or an advisor? Pirates were a human thing, but the concept of subordinates certainly was not. Still, he’d never heard the title first mate before, and he was curious despite himself. Were there second mates? Thirds? And why was it called “first mate” if they were second-in-commands? And, most importantly, what the fuck did he mean by Elizabeth making up her mind? His thoughts were interrupted by the movement of another crew member--one of the females, a Magickal with rich brown hair and bright violet eyes--cheery-looking, smiling brightly, but no doubt just as dangerous and bloodthirsty and deadly as the rest. “I’m Diane!” she chirped, and Meliodas couldn’t keep himself from yelping as she crossed the distance between them in a single, smooth motion, easily detaching his hand from where it clung to the barrel and pumping it up and down cheerfully. “Oread, and the quartermaster here on the Icarus.” Oread-- those were mountain nymphs ( landwalker mountain nymphs, since the ones of the mountains below the surface were a subspecies of siren known as nereids--at least, his books said so. He hadn’t met any nereids in person), the daughters of mountain gods with incredible control over the earth itself. Yet another powerhouse in terms of magic, he thought, and was pleased to find that less terror accompanied the thoughts than usual. Why am I surprised? “Which means she’s the disciplinary authority on my ship,” Elizabeth added, smirking. “So don’t piss her off.” “I think that might go for all of you.” Ban chuckled, tilting his head as Meliodas’s gaze snapped to him, eyes widening with--yep, he was still scared shitless. Shit. “Oh, I like this one.” That fills me with absolutely zero confidence. Actually, no, he realized. That was a lie-- the nerves were still there, but he was…curious? Intrigued? Almost…excited. Frightened, yes, worried, yes, intimidated, oh gods yes, but not so afraid that he couldn’t think anymore. Certainly not, since his tail was starting to ache where the harpoon pierced it (even if the wound had healed somehow, and wasn’t that just fucking weird?) and his adrenaline was nowhere near high enough to numb it anymore. He managed to ignore it, though he caught himself lurching forward slightly as the boat swayed again and another crew member lifted his hand in greeting-- amber eyes, brown hair, giant blue wings. Faerie. “King. I’m the sailing master.” Sailing was…that was navigating the seas from the surface on a boat, not below like sirens did. Which meant that this one was in charge of the whole boat itself, and its course of direction. Which meant that the Pirate Queen trusted a faerie, a race of Magickal notorious for being tricksters and liars and makers of mischief that resulted in death for non-faeries, with the lives of her entire crew--which meant in turn that she was even more insane than he originally thought. Or braver and kinder, a small, traitorous voice suggested, one that he squashed quickly. Don’t trust her. Don’t trust her. Don’t trust her.
…Even if her eyes are blue as the sea, and she saved you from slavers.
The other introductions came quickly--Merlin, healer, sorceress of the lost tribe of Belialuin, Gowther, musician, huli jing who most often wore the shape of a golden-eyed human, Escanor, boatswain, a werebeast who gradually shifted into a lion as the sun rose higher in the sky, Derieri, one of the two master gunners, griffin who seemed lionlike even in her human form, Monspiet, the other master gunner, a phoenix who seemed anything but fiery until one caught a distinct glimpse of his eyes. All of them strange and savage and deadly, landwalkers and skychasers and dangerous-- and eyeing him up like he could be their newest enemy…or ally. With difficulty, Meliodas managed to wrench his gaze away from the eight Magickals he’d been introduced to, forcing himself to look at the last of them. This one, though--this one felt different. Felt weird. There was something about the innocence in those bright violet eyes, the openness on his face--a child, or at least a very young man, and not… “You’re human,” Meliodas said dazedly. A human--on a ship full of Magickals that have been fighting to protect against humanity. To protect Magickals or to destroy humanity--that was the greatest debate surrounding the Pirate Queen’s motivations, but the fact that there was a human child on her ship, beaming and unscarred and innocent, unhurt and looking at the Queen and her dark Court like there were no other people he loved more in the world…that lent much more credence to the former theory. The human merely grinned, looking sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck--no claws, no fangs, just calloused hands and tanned skin and freckles from years under the sun. Utterly, completely, human, and so different from the ones that had speared him through the tail and hauled him out of the water and into a dark and seething hell. “Half-human, actually--according to them, at least. Merlin says I’m a demigod, but there’s no signs of it aside from whatever they can sense and my being particularly good with a blade.” He stuck out his hand, sheepish look changing to one of curiosity and delight. “My name’s Arthur, and those ribbon-things on your back look really cool! Are they fins, or tentacles, or some kind of stingers--ooh, do you use them for hunting? What’s it like underwater; are merpeople really amphibious? And--” “Ribbon-things?” Did he mean his feelers? Meliodas peered over his shoulder, brow furrowed despite himself as he gazed down at the poison-green appendages that stretched from his back, twined around the base of the barrel along with his tail. They were mainly for steering through wilder currents and for grabbing things out of reach for one’s arms--though minnows were the ones who mostly needed the feelers for steering. Zeldris (he felt a sharp pang of grief at the thought of his brother, left behind in the Blood-King’s hands--he had to go back for him someday, he would) was still almost ridiculously terrible at navigating and had a terrible habit of reading scrolls and listening to conchs while swimming; those feelers had probably kept the little minnow from swimming straight into an abyss more often than not. “They’re--uh--” “I mean, I dunno what they’re called, but they look super cool-- and the scales around your eyes, do all sirens have those?” The human was practically bouncing as he babbled question after question, barely giving Meliodas a moment to process each one as it came. The crew of the Icarus, he noticed sourly, seemed amused by his bewilderment and the child’s enthusiasm. Assholes. “Arthur,” the sorceress--Merlin, Meliodas managed to recall--said, not unkindly, apparently deciding that Meliodas was worthy of rescue, “calm down, dear.” He flushed, giving him a grin that seemed almost apologetic before trotting back in line with the rest of them . A human-- apologizing to a Magickal. He would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel like he was going to fall off this stupid barrel. “And that’s the lot of them,” Elizabeth drawled, and he stiffened instinctively as those sharp blue eyes raked him up and down, glimmering with…curiosity? “What about you, Meliodas?” “What about me?” She shrugged, her grin full of wicked mischief. “We have a name, a species, and that’s about it. Can we get a place we’re supposed to drop you? Enemies, allies, etc…” Enemies--what creature below the surface wasn’t his enemy now? He’d assaulted the Blood-King, abandoned his brother, stolen the crown--lost the crown, lost everything. He was a target and a fool. A target, a fool…and probably safer on this goddamn pirate ship than anywhere else. “None,” he rasped out. “No allies, nowhere to go.” Nowhere I’m safe. A borderline hysterical giggle escaped as he swayed unsteadily on the barrel, the eyes of the Magickals blending into a dizzying array as primal fear started to climb through his veins, unhindered by logic. “Wrong. You’ve got nine of ‘em, sharkbait.” He blinked, his vision clearing as Elizabeth jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the warriors behind her, her lips curving into a vicious grin. “I’ve been needing a navigator who knows the ocean like the back of their hand. Figure I can’t do much better than a siren, eh?” Navigator--what, wait, this--this doesn’t make-- “Navigator.” He stared at her, unable to believe his eyes, his ears. “As in, a member of your crew.” “Well, presumably I wouldn’t be pawning you off on some second-rate bastard who barely knows his way around a ship,” she drawled. Her expression sobered a moment later. “I ain’t kidding, sharkbait--I need a navigator, and as you said, you have nowhere to go. Plus, you get to beat up assholes on a fairly regular basis.” “Oh, gods, yer doin’ the rescue thing again,” Derieri grumbled. Meliodas jolted-- again? --as Elizabeth gave her a rude gesture before grinning down at him, extending a hand. “Whaddya say, Meliodas ? Care to kill a king?” Kill a king…kill the king, he realized. Not the Blood-King, but Maerys . The leader of the Novae Empire. The man who was subjugating Magickals, slaughtering them, using them. The man the Pirate Queen had taken to the seas to destroy--just as he’d begun training years ago to kill his own nightmare. Kingkiller. He and Elizabeth both strove to be Kingkillers. And maybe…maybe with the Pirate Queen behind me, we’ll both get what we want. Meliodas clasped her hand in his. “I’m in, Elizabeth.” The Pirate Queen’s eyes blazed gold, bright and burning, and the Prince of Sirens thought that the fury brewing there could’ve set the sky aflame.