Dark Waters Rising

Lullaby

"Val?" Wesley called softly into the darkness.

The man was a warm weight on his chest. His long, silky hair spilled across Wesley's shoulder, tickling slightly as it shifted with every breath.

Thinking Valentine hadn't heard him, Wesley resigned himself to a restless night. He hadn't been able to fall asleep. His mind was too busy, even as his body ached from the day's events.

However, when the body pressed against his started to stir, Wesley knew otherwise.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Did I wake you?"

Valentine mumbled incoherently, stretching like a lazy cat before squishing himself back into the crevice of Wesley's arm.

"Was I supposed to understand that?" Wesley teased.

Valentine's hand found its way over Wesley's mouth, weakly attempting to silence him. Wesley simply kissed his palm, reaching his own arm up to easily pull the other man's away. As Valentine began to protest, Wesley leaned over to leave a kiss on his forehead.

"Why are you awake?" the siren pouted.

"My mind won't slow down."

Valentine opened his eyes then, glaring halfheartedly at Wesley. He reached up and poked at Wesley's forehead, sternly saying, "Let him sleep."

Wesley smiled slightly, "I don't think it's that easy."

Valentine seemed to consider his words. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Wesley shrugged lazily. "There's not much to talk about. Today was just... crazy. I had a tail. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Mm," Valentine hummed in contentment, "Neither can I."

"Yeah..." Wesley trailed off. "I'm exhausted. The realm of sleep is lingering right in front of me, but I just can't seem to reach far enough to touch it."

"Maybe I can help," Valentine said, running his fingers lightly along Wesley's jaw.

"How so?" He was mildly curious.

Valentine paused, wondering if he should even broach such a subject. In the end, though, he was tired enough that that didn't matter.

"Would you let me sing for you?"

"Is your plan to magic me to sleep?" Wesley raised a brow.

"Only slightly," he yawned, stretching his arm across Wesley's chest and squeezing a fistful of fabric once he could reach no farther. "I know a lullaby. It's used by my people to soothe restless children. It quiets the mind and draws a thin veil of sleep."

"Will I be an embarrassing mess in the morning?"

"Unfortunately not," Valentine sighed, "but I can teach you a little about resisting so you're still able to wake at a decent hour."

"Okay," Wesley said. "Teach me."

Valentine was silent for a few moments, quietly contemplating the right way to explain it.

Finally he found the right words.

"A song is a siren's tool, and as such, it behaves much like a siren."

Wesley's heart stuttered in his chest as he remembered the island.

"It flows freely, unburdened by barriers of earth or wood or glass. Like a tide on the shore, a song seeks to caress and shape a vulnerable mind. Penetrating untrained thoughts is as easy as plucking a shell from the sea floor."

Wesley absentmindedly sifted through Valentine's hair as he listened.

"Much like an ocean current, a siren song is difficult to stop. However, you can divert its flow. Imagine the waves flowing around your body instead of crashing into you. You may imagine a barrier if it helps direct the flow."

"Seems simple enough," Wesley said, ready to try.

"Unfortunately, it still takes quite a lot of practice to master. The mind is a slippery thing, and it's easy to lose focus. However, I think a lullaby is a good place to start. The enchantment is weak, and its intent is glancing."

Wesley nodded. "Sing for me then."

Valentine's hand found Wesley's, their fingers interlocking as Valentine gave him a reassuring squeeze.

He opened his mouth and Wesley immediately melted further into the cot when the sound met his ears. Like last time, the words were of an ancient language he did not understand. Each syllable was smooth and flowing, as if the words themselves were made out of water. Valentine's low timbre was haunting and beautiful. He did not sing loudly, but he did not have to. Wesley was already clinging to every sound.

True to Valentine's word, Wesley's insistent thoughts faded away. All that mattered was the ethereal melody that floated around his ears.

Around.

It was supposed to be going around him.

Through the haze, Wesley imagined he was standing on top of a boulder in a gentle stream, watching as the water trickled around him on either side. He knelt down, dipping his fingers into the lukewarm current.

How had he gotten here?

He couldn't remember.

But Valentine was just down river and Wesley was dying to join him for a swim.

----+------+----

A/N

Hey look, a new scene. Fancy seeing that here.

Random question: What "old person" things do you do?

I enjoy drying flowers and displaying them in cool vases I find second hand. I also really like puzzles.

Anyway, I hope you had a wonderful Tuesday,
-Mora Montgomery