Dark Waters Rising

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Valentine's eyes were glued to the bruises marring Wesley's skin. He felt awful, knowing the purple handprints on his arms could've been prevented if only he had been stronger. Instead, his poor mate had been captured and harmed because he was too weak to stop the guards from taking him. 

The merchant looked fragile as he laid limply on the floor of the ship. Valentine gently ran his fingers through the man's silky hair, an action that somehow was keeping him calm. He was only sleeping. Valentine had to remind himself of that. 

It hadn't taken much for Andromeda to identify the effects of a siren song. Hells, he would have easily figured it out himself if he hadn't been so panicked in the moment. He was appalled that his father had the audacity to do such a thing to his mate, but not altogether surprised. He had done worse. 

Had it not been an incredibly stupid idea that would most likely result in his own death, Valentine would've stormed his father's stronghold and shown him exactly what he thought about his despicable acts. 

He wished death upon the King, more than he ever had before, but as he looked down at Wesley's pale features, he wasn't so sure he could give it. Death had changed Valentine. Wesley had, too. What waited on the other side was something he wouldn't wish on anyone, even his tyrannical father. 

What was worse was he knew every single person gathered in that cargo hold expected him to do it. To kill his father and usurp the throne. 

He could feel their eyes on him now, but he refused to look away from his merchant.

At one point in his life, he would've taken on the task of patricide gladly, but if this was the cost of freeing his people, it wasn't worth it. Wesley was the only thing that mattered now. 

Aurelia could sort itself out without him. Whether that be as a squashed rebellion or the fall of a tyrant made no difference to him. His kingdom had abandoned him long ago, so why stick around now. Why risk it when he could be living happily with the love of his life in a safe little cottage by the sea?

The thought of growing old with Wesley made a smile tug at the edges of his lips. What a wonderful life it would be, with Wesley beside him. 

"I love you," Valentine said softly, stroking the merchant's cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. "Please come back to me."

Despite knowing why he was suddenly overcome with murderous intent, Andromeda had been stumped by the mysterious black mist that had forced him into unconsciousness. They could only hope that whatever it was would release him once the effects of the song had passed. 

As they waited, Valentine half listened to his little sister recount how she had freed Wesley to begin with. Apparently the guards on duty had been loyal to her, and there had been a plan to help him escape after he had an audience with the King. This was to ensure that the most possible time had passed between the escape and when the King discovered it, giving Wesley a fighting chance to make it back to Valentine before all the guards in Aurelia were looking for him. Abyssal had surprised them all when he'd instructed the guards himself to free the man. Cordelia should have suspected something was wrong, but she'd been too shocked to notice anything was wrong with him. It didn't help that she had no reference for his typical behavior when the guards had transferred him to her supervision outside the palace walls. Looking back on it now, it was obvious, but all she could do was apologize to her brother. 

Valentine didn't care about her mistake. Yes, it would've been nice to have a heads up that Wesley wasn't in control of himself, but that didn't matter as much as the fact that she brought the merchant back to him. For that, he would be forever grateful. 

"Val?"

Valentine's eyes shot to Wesley's face as he stirred awake. 

Wesley's eyelids fluttered open, revealing familiar blue irises that made Valentine sag in relief. The merchant's vision was blurry for a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the seawater, but once they were clear, he was staring up into a pair of glowing lavender rings. 

"Did you miss me?" he smiled cheekily up at the siren. 

Valentine chuckled lightly. "One of these days you're going to succeed in killing me, you know that?" 

Wesley didn't have a chance to respond as Valentine pulled him into a tight hug. He relished the warmth it brought and hid his face in the siren's neck. 

Valentine met his mother's eyes on the other side of the room and swallowed the lump in his throat. Hugging Wesley a little tighter to himself, he announced, "We're leaving."

"What?" It was Wesley who asked, pulling away just enough to look at Valentine's face. 

"This isn't our fight," he explained, drinking in Wesley's features as if he might never see them again. "We're going back to the surface. Somewhere no one will find us, or hurt us. I want to grow old with you. All of this is putting that in jeopardy."

"Val," Wesley said, taking his face in both of his hands. "We can't just run away. How many people will die if we leave?"

"Which one of us will die if we stay?" Valentine's reply was faint. His gaze fell to Wesley's lips and then closed in shame. "I'm not strong enough. Not anymore."

Wesley lifted Valentine's chin so the siren's dejected gaze met his determined one. 

"That's because you're only half the man you once were."

Val's eyes widened as dark ink started spilling from Wesley's nose and mouth. In a panic, he pushed Wesley away from him as the ink swirled between them. It convulsed and sputtered like it was alive somehow. Valentine found his back pressed against the wall of the ship as the entity started to take shape. 

Much to his horror, a boot stepped out of the mist, followed by a pair of black trousers, a blue cotton shirt, a faded brown tailcoat, and a black leather tricorn. 

"Shite."

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A/N

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-Mora Montgomery