Ryeowook had always loved the sea. It was his safe place, where he could lose himself for several hours. But right now, he did not love it so much as feared it.

The waves snatched at his clothes, his hair. The storm raged on around him, the water rising so high he could no longer see the sky. A rogue wave dragged him below the surface, and Ryeowook inhaled by mistake. Bitter salt water surged down his windpipe and throat, and he spluttered, clawing his way back up.

But the water was so high, the sea so rough that he was thrown back down. With the clouds so dense, blocking all light from the sun, he could no longer tell which way was up in the grey water.  Panic clogged his lungs and he kicked wildly, struggling for breath. Salt water stung his eyes when he opened them and he squeezed them shut hurriedly, bubbles escaping his lips as he kicked towards what he thought was the surface. His blood roared in his ears, adrenaline carrying him through the water.

He was going to die here, he was sure, even as his head broke the surface. Already, he could feel the power in the waves, the sky so dark it was nearly black. The water surged around him, tossing him into white froth and he choked. His limbs were like twigs in comparison to the rough sea and he was just a tiny sinking stone in the vast ocean. 

A black speck appeared in the distance and Ryeowook’s heart climbed out of his throat. 

Shark. 

Just before the waves swallowed him again, he swore he caught sight of a human head bobbing in the water, cutting through the waves more powerfully than any speedboat. Ryeowook could only hope that he was hallucinating. 

No human could survive these waves. Certainly not him.

-

Donghae should not have gone up to the surface. Jungsoo would kill him once he found out, but Donghae could not resist the call of the storm. It rolled over the ocean in a thick dense cloud layer, rain lashing down so hard it almost hurt, stinging like the anemones did when Donghae used to play with them as a child. The wind screeched and howled, and the sea roared, a symphony in Donghae’s ears.

He thought he was seeing things when he first saw the ship cutting through the waves. It was a thing of majesty but faced against the ocean’s wrath, it may well be a child’s toy. Donghae could hear shouting from the humans aboard, and it drew him closer. Jungsoo had warned him away from humans many times over the years but Donghae’s fascination with them never ceased. A face popped over the side of the ship and Donghae gasped to himself, the sound lost to the winds. He had seen this man often, usually during calmer weather. A prince who enjoyed the water and had a voice so beautiful that it put sirens to shame. Donghae had watched him, skulking behind the rocks like a shark on the prow when he walked on land and followed his ship during calm tides. He had composed songs for this voice, so lovely that it imposed itself into his dreams. 

The ship rocked violently and Donghae ducked, preparing to swim away when he heard the humans’ screeches increase in volume.

“Your Highness!” 

The sea’s roaring had been so loud that it had blocked out the splash the prince made when he hit the water. Before Donghae could see him, he had vanished beneath the waves, dragged out by the ocean’s currents. Donghae’s heart crawled into his throat. He flicked his tail, muscles straining as he searched through the murky waters, swimming farther and farther away from the ship. A head thrashing through the waves caught his eye, and Donghae plunged forward, trailing bubbles in his wake. He had to get to him before he drowned, as humans did, easily. Jungsoo had told him about their tiny lungs and their lack of ability to breathe underwater. 

Donghae dove again, his lungs squeezing when he spotted the human sinking. He looked so small against the sea’s currents, dark hair drifting around his head. 

Donghae lunged, catching him by the collar of his shirt. He dragged him close, sealing his lips over the human’s in a furious kiss. His gills snapped shut as he forced air into the human’s mouth, dragging him to the surface. It would be faster to travel underwater, without the currents resisting his every . But the human’s eyes were closed, his skin deathly pale and Donghae could not bear to see him die.

He swam harder than he ever had before, against the lashing rain and swelling tides, until the shoreline finally came within sight. 

The human was deadweight in Donghae’s arms as he carried him out of the water, the momentum of the waves pushing him onto the sand. He laid the human down gently onto his side, out of reach of the ocean’s grasping fingers. Every muscle in Donghae’s body was on fire when he collapsed beside the human, panting. He did not remember any time where he had pushed himself so much before, in a storm that could have wrecked him against the rocks. Donghae’s body felt like one giant bruise from being battered by the massive waves and he wished he could just lie down and take a nap until the sky cleared. But he had more pressing matters to attend to.

The human was not moving. 

There must be water in his lungs, for when Donghae brushed his fingers beneath his nose, he did not feel so much as a tiny puff of air. Panic balled up in Donghae’s throat as he prodded the human gently.

He did not want the human to die.

Donghae was not as well versed as Jungsoo was in the arts of calling water, but he tried anyway, humming the melody under his breath. The power came suddenly, a surge in his veins that burned hot and cold until he rested his hands gently on the human’s back, spilling sand onto his grey shirt.

The song spilled out of him and into the human’s body. Donghae kept singing, until the sky cleared, and he thought his eyes might just close on their own; they were so heavy. But the human’s fingers twitched and Donghae’s heart leapt. 

It was enough to spur him into singing louder, scooting up to peer at the human’s face. 

He had the loveliest features, long lashes that cast inky shadows over cheeks when his eyelids fluttered, and full lips that were rather too pale for Donghae’s liking. His black hair was matted to his head by seawater and there was sand crusted on his cheek. Donghae wiped it off gently, smiling when the human stirred. 

“Who are you?” His voice was raspy and Donghae shivered when it swept all the way to the tips of his flukes. 

He would have liked to stay, but the sky was slowly turning a brilliant blue. He had no idea how much time had passed, but Jungsoo must be throwing an absolute fit. Donghae took one glance at the human before dragging himself away, reluctance tugging at his flukes. He could hear human voices growing louder as he crawled into the surf, turning back just in time to see another human crouched over his human, lifting him into his arms. 

Donghae’s heart squeezed, and he dove, desperately trying to leave the achy feeling in his heart behind.

-

Ryeowook awoke to sunlight searing into his eyelids. He squinted, squeezing his eyes shut again. When he reopened them, he could see the shoreline in the distance, the sand disturbed as if a body had been dragged up from the frothing waves. 

Ryeowook clenched his fist and grimaced when his fingers closed around a handful of sand. That was the grit in his mouth, when he rubbed his lips together, still tasting the ocean on his tongue. He heard a song, a strange melody that he could not recognize floating on the breeze, and it reminded him of the soft colours of dawn. 

When he blinked the salt from his lashes, there was a vague human shape beside him, and bright eyes cutting through the glare of the sun. They were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. His heart tripped in his ribcage, and he wanted to brand the memory of those eyes into his brain.

A soft hand wiped at his cheek and Ryeowook twitched, spitting out sand. 

“Who are you?” he managed to gasp out. 

The shape moved and turned smaller and smaller before Ryeowook realised that the person was fleeing. He struggled to sit up, but the world spun around him and the water in his lungs tore its way up. By the time he had recovered from his coughing fit, the man was gone.

“Here! Here, he’s over here!” 

A hand grasped Ryeowook’s shoulders and he choked when he was tugged upright. 

“Oh, you’re awake!” Ryeowook’s vision was still fuzzy when the face swam before him. He was almost certain the face was different, but his lungs felt as if they were being wrung out like a rag for cleaning and he could scarcely breathe. 

“Help him!” 

Before the world turned black again, Ryeowook remembered a strong arm bracing under his waist, hefting him into the air.

When he reopened his eyes, he was lying on something soft.

“Hnngh,” Ryeowook groaned quietly. His body felt as it had gone through the washing tubs the servants used for the clothes, all scraped up against the wooden washboards. His eyes were crusty, as if the seawater had dried down to salt. He shifted slowly, squinting against the light filtering through a gap in the blinds. 

“You’re awake.” The voice was husky, startling him. Ryeowook turned to see a young man standing in the doorway, watching him curiously. He came closer and Ryeowook peered up at him. His eyes were different from the ones he remembered, but he had a handsome face. Perhaps he had hallucinated the other man?

“Are you–?” Ryeowook’s voice cracked when he spoke, and the man hurried to pour him a glass of water. The liquid was cool against Ryeowook’s scratchy throat when he swallowed, coughing delicately. “Are you the one who saved me?”

The man blinked. 

“You could say it like that,” he answered at last, sitting in a chair by the bed that Ryeowook had not noticed.

“Thank you,” Ryeowook said, a little breathless when the man flashed him a small smile. “I didn’t– get your name.”

“Jongwoon.”

“I’m–.”

“Prince Ryeowook, I know. We’re in your castle. You were very fortunate to wash up here.”

“Wash up– here?” Ryeowook had a fuzzy memory of being carried through the waves, but quickly dismissed it. Perhaps it was merely a dream. He must have clung onto some driftwood and been washed ashore. So coincidentally by his own castle.

He sat up slowly, grimacing when every muscle in his body screamed at him. 

“Kim Ryeowook!” The banshee shriek pierced his eardrums and he cringed, Jongwoon visibly startling in his chair. Heechul came charging into the room, his hair wild and curling all over the place. He looked as if he had not slept in days, like he had been up fretting, though he would never admit it.

“Hyung,” Ryeowook said mildly, putting on his sweetest face. Heechul was less likely to hit him if he looked all cute and innocent. 

“I told you, didn’t I?” Heechul scowled, coming to a stop beside the bed. “That a storm was coming and to postpone your trip. You little–.” 

He made a grab for Ryeowook and Ryeowook squeaked, scrambling to get away. 

“Perhaps His Highness should wait until Prince Ryeowook is recovered?” Jongwoon said, amused and Heechul rounded on him.

“You!” he scowled. “Is it appropriate for you to be in here? You barely know him!”

Jongwoon raised both hands in surrender, rising to his feet. 

“And since when do you call me Highness?” Heechul asked, rolling his eyes as Jongwoon made to leave the room. 

Jongwoon hid a smile behind his hand as he exited, waving to Ryeowook. Ryeowook’s heart skipped a beat before he was immediately attacked by Heechul climbing onto his bed.

“You’re grounded,” Heechul said before he could protest. “Don’t even try to go out to sea. No one will take you.”

“Hyung!” Ryeowook gaped at him. The sea was his escape, from the never-ending responsibilities that being a prince threw at him. Granted, he had a lot more freedom compared to Heechul, being the second prince, but still, without his ship, Ryeowook would have gone crazy a long time ago. Already, the pressure was on for him to be married, even though Heechul was only newly engaged to the neighbouring prince. 

“Don’t ‘Hyung’ me,” Heechul glared. “Someone needs to be around to stop me from actively murdering my fiancé.”

“Hyung, you like Donghee hyung,” Ryeowook said. “You said he was funny last week.”

“He’s very devoted,” Heechul observed, laying down halfway across Ryeowook’s lap. 

Ryeowook hummed, twitching when Heechul rolled over to put his head on his thighs. He touched his hair gingerly; Heechul was prone to mood swings about his hair. Sometimes he liked it, and other times, he would throw a fit if someone so much as breathed on it. He must be in a softer mood after Ryeowook scared him less, for he allowed him to card his fingers through the curls.

“Who is this Jongwoon?” Ryeowook asked, hoping he sounded casual. Heechul glared at him and Ryeowook pushed his lips into a pout; he was not above doing aegyo to get his way.

“A friend,” Heechul answered, rolling over. “He’s here to stay for a bit.”

Ryeowook fought down the smile that curled on his face. Jongwoon was handsome, and he would not be opposed to seeing him around a little longer. Of course, the fact that he may or may not be the one who saved his life was irrelevant.

Heechul shot him a look so pointed that it may as well be a needle.

“He may be a contender to be one of your suitors,” he said reluctantly. 

Ryeowook’s walls shot up immediately; he had not thought his father would push for his marriage so soon. He resolved to harden his heart against all of Jongwoon’s advances; he would not marry a man his father approved of.

“He’s not so bad,” Heechul said, nudging his thigh. “He curses like a sailor but has a voice like an angel. You’ll like him.”

“I don’t want to be married,” Ryeowook snapped and Heechul sighed.

“It’s your–.”

“Duty, I know. But we already have an alliance through your marriage. I want to marry the man who saved me.”

“Jongwoon?”

“No.” Ryeowook shook his head, his mind flashing back to the face he had seen in the waves and the eyes that he had seen his own reflection in. “There was someone else. Someone pulled me out of the water, hyung.”

He thought for a moment.

“Someone sang me a song. A sort of folk song.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head? No one could have been swimming in that storm, Ryeowook.” Heechul smoothed a hand over Ryeowook’s head, his brows furrowing in concern. 

“I’m sure.” Ryeowook hummed a few bars of what he remembered of the song and Heechul sighed again. 

“I’ll speak to Father. But in the meantime, will you please give Jongwoon a chance? He came all this way.”

Ryeowook relented. It was no hardship to be kind to Jongwoon, who was attentive and sweet and all too indulgent. When Heechul finally let him back on his ship again, Ryeowook took him, though it was clear that Jongwoon had never been on a ship so small before. 

“How do you not get sick?” he asked, green in the face as the ship listed. The sky was only a little grey on the edges, like the painter had not cleaned their brush before painting the clouds. Ryeowook had made his escape before Heechul could point them out. Being landlocked for so long had left him thirsty, desperate for the sea air. It was different from standing on the beach and sticking his toes in the surf. Ryeowook had to be on the water, away from land. His father joked sometimes that he was a fish trapped in a human’s body.

“I’m used to it,” he answered, staring out at the white stretch of the horizon. They had set sail early in the morning, and the clouds were just now parting to reveal the sun. The water reflected the rays of sunlight, glittering like someone had thrown a bucket of stars over it. Ryeowook inhaled deeply, leaning over the side of the ship. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jongwoon make an aborted motion, as if he wanted to pull him back and it made him smile.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Ryeowook said, stepping back. Jongwoon raised an eyebrow.

“This is coming from the man who had to be fished out of the water,” he said and Ryeowook laughed.

“That was in a storm, hyung! The weather is perfectly calm today.”

He eyed the grey on the edges of the sky and then continued on. “We’ll be back before those clouds hit anyway. Heechul hyung would kill me if anything happened to you. He doesn’t want to deal with any more diplomatic incidents.”

 

-

“Where the hell have you been?” Jungsoo demanded the moment he parted the seaweed leading into Donghae’s cave. Donghae looked up from his scribbling, sweeping the broad flakes of kelp behind his back to hide them.

“Nowhere,” he said and Jungsoo stopped before him, his jaw tight as he seized his arm.

“You went up to the surface again, didn’t you?” he snapped, tugging Donghae aside to glare down at the kelp strands. “How many times must I tell you that the surface is dangerous?”

“It wasn’t!” Donghae protested, clinging to Jungsoo’s arm when he reached for the kelp. “I just wanted to see the storm.” 

Jungsoo shrugged him off hard, practically radiating fury. He must have just been in a bad meeting, for Donghae could feel the rage just pouring off him. He wrapped his arms around his waist, tucking his chin over Jungsoo’s shoulder and squeezed. Jungsoo did not relent and Donghae squeezed again, humming a little melody that he had written just for him when he was younger into his ear and Jungsoo squirmed. 

“It won’t work,” he warned. “I’m still mad at you.”

Donghae hummed again, mashing his face into the back of Jungsoo’s neck until the strands of Jungsoo’s hair tickled his nose. He hugged him tightly, until Jungsoo stopped squirming, sagging into his arms. Only then did Donghae stop squeezing, letting his arms linger around Jungsoo’s waist.

“What happened?” he asked, blowing bubbles.

“Nothing,” Jungsoo sighed, but the tension in his shoulders suggested otherwise. He looked as if he was carrying the weight of two coral reefs on them. Donghae moved his hands to his shoulders and began to knead as Jungsoo sank into the chair, his flukes splaying out over the floor. He had quite forgotten about his writing until Jungsoo went stiff, like a threatened anemone under his hands, ruining all of his work.

“What is this?” Jungsoo demanded, pointing and Donghae peered over his shoulder. He cringed the moment he spotted the crude drawing he had made of the prince he had saved on the kelp paper. 

“He’s um–.”

“It’s that prince, isn’t it?” Jungsoo did not give him a chance to finish. “The one you follow around whenever you go to the surface.”

Donghae bit his tongue, resisting the urge to reach out and snatch the paper away. Jungsoo studied the drawing for a little longer, the muscles in his jaw jumping like the clownfish that swam in and out of the anemones that dotted their front yard before he rolled it up.

“Hyung!” Donghae cried when Jungsoo began packing up his pens and every sheet of kelp that he could find. “What are you doing?”

“Confiscating these,” Jungsoo snapped. “Until you learn not to go up to the surface, you will not write a word of music. Give me your lute.”

“Hyung!” Donghae protested and Jungsoo quailed him with a look. The lute had been a gift from Jungsoo himself, refashioned from wood with shells because wood rotted under water. Donghae dug it out from where he had tucked it under the table and handed it over, his jaw clenched, lips wobbling.

With a flick of his tail, Jungsoo swam out of the room, leaving Donghae’s table utterly bare. The fury that surged through him caught Donghae by surprise, and he snatched up the one thing Jungsoo had left behind, a conch shell paperweight, flinging it across the room. The shell shattered against the wall, turning to powder, but it did nothing for the turmoil swirling in Donghae’s chest.

In a fit of spite, Donghae returned to the surface once more, hiding behind the rocks to watch the prince leave his castle. He was accompanied by the same man whom Donghae had seen take him home. Their feet were bare, kicking up sand. The prince displayed such childlike wonder as he danced over the white froth of the waves, laughter ringing through the air when the other man flinched at the foam thrown up in the air.

Donghae watched him wistfully, eyes fixed on the delicate feet running over the line of sand that the water had stained dark. He wondered what it felt like to walk barefoot on sand. Would it feel as gritty as it did on his arm and face? The prince squished his toes into the sand and then laughed when the waves rushed in, soaking his pants.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?” 

Donghae jumped, nearly cutting his palm open on the rock he had been clinging to. An electric eel had rocked up beside him, tail swishing in the water as it tried to stay afloat.

“Were you speaking to me?” he asked, lowering himself into the water behind the rock. The eel nodded its entire body, tail swirling ripples in the water. 

“The prince, he is beautiful, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Donghae answered slowly, his ears heating. “He is.”

“Mmm. Too bad he is to be married,” the eel mused, slapping the water with its tail.

“What?” Donghae looked back towards the shore, to where the prince had now gone down onto his knees and was piling sand into a conical shape. “To him?”

“That’s the story,” the eel said. “I’m Hyukjae by the way.”

“Donghae,” Donghae said, and the eel’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Your Highness!”

“Oh no, there’s no need.” Donghae caught the eel before it could bow. “I’m not my hyung. You don’t need to bow to me.”

He paused, his eyes flicking back to the prince and the strange man who was crouched down too, engaged in conversation.

“I heard that the prince doesn’t want to be married,” Hyukjae continued. “He’s looking for the person who saved his life.”

Saved his life? Donghae could not tear his eyes away from the shore. He had been the one to pull the prince out of the water, to pull the water out of the prince’s lungs before it could kill him. But the prince would never know. He could not.

“It’s a pity,” Hyukjae said, dipping his head into the water as if preparing to swim away. “That you do not have legs, Your Highness. If you did, you’d be able to claim the prince’s heart. For it was you who saved him, no?”

Donghae could not formulate a response before Hyukjae vanished back into the water, leaving not even a ripple behind.

The words struck deep into Donghae’s mind, like a barbed hook in flesh and he could not stop turning them over and over. To have legs, to have the prince see him. They were unreachable dreams. Unless–.

The very thought sent shivers down Donghae’s spine. Jungsoo would kill him for even considering it.

Black magic was outlawed in their kingdom years ago, the last known practicing wizard exiled to the depths. Donghae had only passed the kelp forest leading to the depths once, and Jungsoo had pulled him away, warning him to never ever venture inside. 

Donghae had sworn up and down that he would never, but then he never had a reason to. 

Jungsoo was too busy in court to pay much attention to Donghae and it was easy for him to slip out of the castle unseen. A sense of foreboding gripped him as he left the warmer waters, chills running all the way down to the tips of his flukes. The depths were so named for their distance from the shallows, where the sunlight did not reach. The water was colder, and Donghae could not help but shiver as he passed under the first fan of kelp.

The kelp cast strange shadows on his skin as he dove deeper and deeper, the water growing so cold that by the time Donghae came upon the greenish glow, he was shivering uncontrollably.

“Hello?” he called, and a shadow flickered out of the corner of his eye. A green ball of light grew larger and larger and Donghae had to squint to make out the figure of a mer, swirling amidst black tentacles.

“What a surprise.” The voice was younger than Donghae had expected, and when the light was raised, it illuminated a young mer’s face. Donghae blinked, startled. The merman looked as if he could not be much older than Donghae himself, perhaps even younger. 

“I haven’t had a visitor in years.”

He gestured to the old coral cave, which looked even more terrifying lit up in the neon glow of his light. “Come in.”

Donghae hesitated. Despite his young face, there was something in the wizard’s eyes that made his skin crawl like he had been stung by a fire coral.

“You’ve already come all this way,” the wizard said, as if he could read Donghae’s mind. “At least come inside and have something to eat. It’s cold out here.”

The cold won out in the end, and Donghae allowed himself to be ushered inside the cave. The green light faded into white as the wizard entered with him, and up close, Donghae could tell that his tentacles were actually a deep purple, rather than black like he had believed.

“Seaweed cracker?” the wizard asked, setting his ball of light on a cracked shelf. “I’m Kyuhyun, by the way.”

“I know,” Donghae choked out, clutching at his arms. It was just as cold inside the cave, but when Kyuhyun moved the light onto a stone cauldron, the room flooded with warmth. 

“And you’re Donghae,” Kyuhyun mused, smiling as he set a plate on the table. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

Donghae stared down at the grey gloop that coated the supposed seaweed crackers and wondered if it would be rude to refuse them. They did not look appetizing at all. 

“Not hungry?” Kyuhyun asked as he settled into a chair. His tentacles writhed twice before they folded before Donghae’s eyes, turning into a single tail. Donghae could not help but stare. Kyuhyun’s flukes were long and raggedy, as if they had been torn up by sharks and orcas. As if he could feel his gaze, Kyuhyun lifted up his tail, showing Donghae what was left of his flukes.

“Not very useful in swimming,” he noted with a wry smile. “That’s why I prefer the legs. Much easier to manoeuvre.”

“You can do that?” Donghae asked, his mouth agape. 

“Change shape? Of course,” Kyuhyun shrugged. “It is only a little bit of magic.”

“Could you change mine?” Donghae asked, hesitant and Kyuhyun raised his eyebrows.

“Why would the second prince want to change his shape?” he drawled, lazy, his eyes dragging up and down Donghae’s body until Donghae blushed, his ears heating. 

“There’s a prince,” he started, his cheeks hot under Kyuhyun’s all too knowing gaze. “But he lives on land.”

“So, you want feet,” Kyuhyun mused, twirling his finger in the air. “That is very different from changing a battered old tail to tentacles, Your Highness.”

“But you can do it?” Donghae asked. He was utterly mesmerized by the green lines trailing from Kyuhyun’s finger.

“I can,” Kyuhyun said, his voice deepening. “But it will cost you.”

“How much?” Donghae asked, stretching forward.

“Not much.” Kyuhyun’s eyes glinted and he sat up. “Just your voice.”

Donghae balked, flinching back.

“My– voice?” he asked, and Kyuhyun nodded. 

“It’s not nearly as pretty as mine,” Kyuhyun said. “But it could be useful.”

He leaned forward and Donghae watched with a bated breath as a tiny vial took shape between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Your voice. In exchange for legs.”

Donghae hesitated and Kyuhyun extended his other hand, a crystal ball materializing on the table. His breath hitched, gills flaring when he set eyes upon the sleeping face of the prince who had stolen his heart. 

“Prince Ryeowook,” Kyuhyun supplied when Donghae said nothing. “He is to be married to Prince Jongwoon from the northern coast. Unless he meets you, of course.”

Donghae tore his eyes from the crystal ball, looking up at Kyuhyun.

“My magic is strong enough to give you human form for a month,” Kyuhyun said and the image in the crystal ball shimmered. “You must earn his love in that amount of time and kiss for the spell to be permanent.”

“And if I don’t?” Donghae asked, breathless. He felt as if he had swum across the Atlantic in a storm, his heart fluttering in his chest. “What if he marries someone else?”

“You will dissolve into seafoam,” Kyuhyun said, his voice deadly serious. “Or.”

He seemed to consider his options for a moment.

“You will turn back into a merman, but you will belong to me.”

His gaze turned hungry and Donghae shuddered, fingers curling into the rock that made up the table. 

“Do we have a deal?”

Donghae swallowed, his eyes flicking back to the sleeping prince in the crystal ball. He should not, he knew that. It would be like selling his soul to the devil and it would break Jungsoo’s heart. But Jungsoo did not understand what it was like to feel such all-encompassing love for someone. He was too embroiled in his court politics to even notice that his dongsaeng was in love.

“Yes,” Donghae breathed, uncurling his fingers from the table.

“Be sure, Prince Donghae,” Kyuhyun said, setting the vial on the table. “For even when you have feet, every step you take will feel as if you are stepping on a thousand knives.”

Donghae hesitated, but the image of Prince Ryeowook drifted into his mind again and he gritted his teeth.

“I’m sure,” he said, clenching his fingers into fists.

“Then sing.”

Kyuhyun’s voice was booming, nearly piercing Donghae’s eardrums. Donghae’s mind went blank, and he sang the first song that he could think of, the ancient folk song that he had used on Ryeowook.

The song took physical form as Kyuhyun drew lines in the air, the notes sketching themselves in green musical notes. The world went dark around him, the only bright thing in focus the music notes floating through the water. Donghae almost wanted to stop, but it felt as if the song was being pulled right out of him, drifting until Kyuhyun caught it in a nautilus shell. 

He felt hollowed out, as if someone had taken a spoon to his insides as he watched Kyuhyun hang the shell around his neck with a self-satisfied smile. 

“Very good.”

Kyuhyun pointed at the vial and gestured for Donghae to drink. The liquid flashed purple when he un-stoppered the vial and it burned going down his throat, sickly sweet.

Immediately, the worst pain Donghae had ever felt seared through his body. It was as if someone had taken a cleaver down his lower abdomen and through his tail, tearing through muscle, bone, and sinew. He could not breathe for the pain, and he must be screaming but there was no sound other than horrifying silence. Blackness danced at the edge of his vision as he swayed. He had been tricked; he was sure. He was going to die here.

The last thing he saw before the world went dark were the bubbles issuing from his lips and Kyuhyun’s laughing face.

-

Ryeowook was out on the beach alone when he first noticed the lump. He had thought it was a bit of driftwood at first, lurking in the corner of his eye behind a rock. Upon further inspection, it looked as if the driftwood had hair. 

Curious, Ryeowook walked closer, and his heart crawled into his throat when he realised that the driftwood was actually a living human. Ryeowook could not tell if the man was alive, but he ran forward, turning the man onto his side. His heart leapt at the sight of the man’s face, for even streaked with sand and salt water, he was remarkably handsome. And he was not breathing.

“Oh dear,” he mumbled, putting both hands on the man’s very chest. “Please don’t be dead.”

He pushed down hard, his mind blanking as he started chest compressions. The man must not have been in the water for very long as he gave a horrible cough, spewing water from his mouth. He collapsed back onto the sand; chest heaving and did not move for several more moments. Ryeowook poked him gently, relieved to see his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“Hey,” he called when the man did not open his eyes. “Are you okay? What happened to you?”

The man’s lashes fluttered and when he opened his eyes, Ryeowook’s heart about fell out of his mouth. 

Those eyes.

Trembling, he reached out to take the man’s hand. The man reached back, lips parting as if he wanted to speak but no sound came forth. Ryeowook’s heart broke a little.

It was not the right man.

Still, he could not leave him there, lying in the sand without any clothes. Despite the sand clinging to his shirt, Ryeowook tugged it off and offered it to the stranger. He could go shirtless if it meant the stranger covered up his lower regions.

The man stared back at him, looking utterly clueless until Ryeowook gestured, his cheeks heating.

“You need to cover up,” he stammered, and the stranger looked at his pants and then at the shirt. He did not seem the least bit ashamed of his own ness even as he took Ryeowook’s shirt, his hands clumsy as he attempted to tie it around his waist.

“What’s your name?” Ryeowook asked and the man opened his mouth again, his expression twisting when nothing came out. He scratched at the sand and Ryeowook read as he wrote.

“Donghae,” he said, and Donghae nodded furiously. “Let’s get you back or my castle. You need to put some clothes on.”

Donghae struggled to stand, and when Ryeowook helped him take his first step, he staggered, his face contorting as if it was agony. Ryeowook stumbled, nearly dropping him. 

“Yah! Are you okay?”

Donghae nodded again, but every step he took seemed to hurt him as Ryeowook half dragged, half carried him back. He was grateful for his lack of a shirt, for by the time they made it to the castle’s doorstep, he was already drenched in sweat.

“Help,” he gasped when the guards looked up and they rushed for him, catching Donghae before he could fall. Donghae made a desperate grab for him, his eyes wide and panicked. Ryeowook could not bear to see him so distressed. He took his hand and Donghae calmed at once, though he still tried to shrug off the guards supporting him. When the doctor tried to shoo Ryeowook out of the room, Donghae’s panic was so palpable that he let him stay.

“There’s nothing wrong with his legs,” the doctor said after much examining. “And he expelled most of the water from his lungs. He just needs some rest and he’ll be good as new.”

“That’s a relief,” Ryeowook said. Donghae had fallen asleep on the tiny cot; he must be exhausted from his struggle in the water. When the doctor left the room, Ryeowook crept closer to the bed, peering down at his face. 

He really was an extraordinarily handsome man, his cheekbones so sharp they could have been sculpted from stone. Ryeowook brushed a lock of hair away from Donghae’s forehead and sighed.

Donghae stayed, because he remembered nothing about his home, or the people he came from. He was fascinated by the most mundane things, like the hairbrush that Ryeowook used to smooth out his hair and the forks they used at dinner time. He refused to let anyone touch him, and so Ryeowook was the one to care for him. Despite his youthful looks, Donghae was older than he was and very happy for Ryeowook to address him as hyung. Jongwoon liked him too and doted on him like a little brother. But Donghae mostly followed Ryeowook around like a little puppy.

His eyes were truly the most beautiful Ryeowook had ever seen, and he was starkly reminded of the eyes he thought he had seen on the man who had pulled him from the storm-tossed waves so many days ago now.

Staring. The paper bumped into Ryeowook’s hand, and he looked down, a blush flaring on his cheeks. He dared not look Donghae in the eye, but Donghae reached over, using two fingers to tip Ryeowook’s chin up. It was the slightest touch, almost feather light and yet, it lit him up from inside out. Ryeowook’s heart felt as if it had been picked up, squeezed and now had to pump twice as hard. All his breath had left his lungs at the gesture. He gripped the table, trying not to drown in Donghae’s eyes.

“You’re– handsome,” he stuttered, his face so hot it may as well be the sun. “Sorry.”

No sorrys. Donghae nudged him with the paper, his hand falling away from Ryeowook’s chin. Ryeowook is beautiful.  

He paused, glancing out of the window and Ryeowook wondered what he was thinking. He was supposed to be going over some documents that Heechul had handed to him and Donghae was working on something with a pile of paper. He had been taught how to fold paper origami and had gotten very good in it. Ryeowook almost always got a new animal every day. His windowsill was growing crowded with the menagerie that Donghae was making for him. Donghae combed a hand through his hair and made a displeased noise when it snagged. He disliked hair brushing still, no matter how much Ryeowook tried to make him do it himself. With how much he had taken to swimming in the ocean, Ryeowook was not surprised by how often it tangled.

“Go brush your hair,” he said, even though it was futile. Donghae stuck his tongue out at him and Ryeowook sighed, getting to his feet.

“We need to trim this mop,” he scolded gently as he got out the hairbrush. “It’s getting long, hyung.”

Donghae huffed, pulling his pile of papers closer to him. Ryeowook detangled his hair gently, humming a song under his breath as he worked the brush over Donghae’s scalp until Donghae was sufficiently distracted from his folding. He leaned back against Ryeowook, making him chuckle as he brushed through Donghae’s scraggly mane.

“There,” Ryeowook said, brushing out the ends. “It would be much easier if you would do it yourself, hyung.” 

He tried to step away to put the brush down, but Donghae caught his wrist, pulling him back. He put Ryeowook’s hand back into his hair and Ryeowook laughed.

“Are you a dog?” he asked even as he petted him gently. Donghae looked as if he would have purred if he had the voice box to; he had his head tilted back, and his eyes were closed in pleasure. Ryeowook was overwhelmed by the sudden urge that overcame him to kiss Donghae’s eyelids, and he had to grip the back of Donghae’s chair hard to remind himself of his place. Donghae blinked his eyes open and smiled at him, and Ryeowook’s heart tripped over itself. 

“Kim Ryeowook!” 

He jerked back and Donghae startled so badly that he nearly tipped the chair over before Ryeowook caught and righted him. Ryeowook whipped around to see Heechul watching him suspiciously. Feeling as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Ryeowook let go of Donghae’s chair, stepping back.

“Do you have to yell my name like that every time you look for me, hyung?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded even.

“How are the reports going?” Heechul asked, ignoring his question. His eyes were fixed on the hairbrush in Ryeowook’s hand, and his expression was slowly growing dark like the storm clouds that seemed to have taken up a permanent spot on the edge of their skies. 

Ryeowook swallowed. Heechul had been very vocal about wishing he would marry Jongwoon and Ryeowook had not had the heart to tell him that there were no sparks between them. Jongwoon was utterly gorgeous and had a voice to match. His heart was made of marshmallow and gold and Ryeowook could be very happy with him. If he loved him. 

Ryeowook had been neglecting him in favour of Donghae lately, and Heechul had definitely noticed. 

“They’re going,” Ryeowook answered, moving back to his side of the table. Donghae fiddled with his papers as Heechul came up to them, peering down at the mess.

“What new animal are you making, Donghae?”

Bunny. Donghae pushed a spare piece of paper over to Heechul. For Ryeowook.

Ryeowook ducked his head, keeping his eyes fixed onto his report papers when he felt Heechul’s stare burn into him. He should not be spending so much time with Donghae. But it was easier to breathe beside him. There were no expectations with Donghae. He just liked being by Ryeowook’s side, whether they were walking by the beach or on the ship, sailing out on open sea.

Despite being voiceless, Donghae liked music and was extremely fascinated by the grand piano in the library when Ryeowook took him.

“You haven’t seen a piano before?” Ryeowook laughed. Donghae’s eyes had gone wide when he a hand over the keys and the notes resonated in the room. He poked at a white key again and jumped when it sounded.

“Like this,” Ryeowook said, sitting down on the bench. He played a simple melody and Donghae’s eyes got as big as saucers. He plopped down right next to Ryeowook, shoulder bumping his and clumsily tried to follow the notes that Ryeowook had just played. Ryeowook played it again and Donghae’s brows furrowed as he prodded the keys until they rang in the right order. 

Ryeowook giggled at his look of pride and in a fit of boldness, wrapped his hand over Donghae’s, guiding them over the keys gently. Donghae’s expression when he managed the melody speared warmth into his chest, a flower blooming between his ribs, rooting in his belly. He gestured at Ryeowook’s lips and Ryeowook cocked his head.

“Did you want me to sing?” he asked and Donghae nodded furiously, his eyes glittering with delight. Ryeowook laughed, splaying his fingers over the keys. He played a simple melody, humming softly and Donghae reached for the manuscript he had left on the piano. Ryeowook let him have it, still singing.

Pretty.  

Ryeowook did not think a simple word could make him blush like that, but when Donghae pushed the paper over to him in earnest, his cheeks heated, and his voice faltered. Still, he finished the song, allowing the rest of the notes to trail off into the air. 

“Thank you,” he said, smiling and Donghae tinkled on the piano in answer.  He plonked out every note of the major scale, as if trying to figure out how the piano worked, and he lit up like the sun when he finished. It was such an endearing sight that Ryeowook wanted to wrap him up in his arms, no matter that he was technically older. 

He could have sat there forever, watching Donghae plink happily away on the piano, their shoulders brushing while the sunlight shone in from the skylights. It was the door opening that startled them both. Donghae’s playing crashed down like the waves against the rocks and Ryeowook turned to see Heechul glaring at him in the doorway, his scowl so dark that it felt as if he had brought the storm clouds with him.

“Jongwoon was looking for you,” he said, and every word felt like an accusation. The guilt pricked at him as he rose from the seat, and Donghae grabbed his arm, seeming to sense the tension in the air.

“Do you like music, Donghae?” Heechul asked, crossing the room and Donghae looked at him uncertainly, biting his lip before nodding. 

“Want to learn the guitar?” Heechul asked, directing a pointed look at Ryeowook as if to say, ‘why are you still here’ and Ryeowook left reluctantly, feeling as if he had left a piece of himself in the room with Donghae.

He was horribly distracted, and he knew it; Jongwoon knew it. Yet, he was the perfect gentleman, engaging Ryeowook in conversation over a lovely candlelit dinner on the beach that he had meticulously planned. There was a single rose in the sweet white vase.  Dozens of candles surrounded the table, casting them in a soft orange glow. Ryeowook saw Jongwoon’s heart in everything laid out and it only served to make the guilt weigh even heavier. His hand was warm when he reached across the table to hold Ryeowook’s hand and Ryeowook let him, chewing hard on his lower lip.

“You’re distracted tonight,” Jongwoon said. He thumbed at Ryeowook’s mouth, tugging his lip out from between his teeth. “Don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Ryeowook flushed, ducking his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly and Jongwoon smiled, patting his hand. 

“That’s alright. Penny for your thoughts?”

“I was just thinking about how we met,” Ryeowook said, and Jongwoon raised his eyebrows, bringing his hand to his lips. It seemed like an almost absentminded gesture, the way his lips brushed over Ryeowook’s knuckles and Ryeowook’s heart should skip a beat. Jongwoon was incredibly handsome and before Donghae, Ryeowook would have been utterly enamoured with him. He should be enamoured with him. Jongwoon had been nothing but kind and gentle and Ryeowook admired his persistence. 

“My men returned yesterday,” Jongwoon said when Ryeowook did not continue. “Still no sign of this mysterious man who sings. It would help if you remembered what he looked like.”

Ryeowook sighed, closing his eyes. He wished he could, but the only thing that stuck firmly in his memory was the tune of the song that had been sung to him. He had tried recreating it on the piano long after, but the notes were slippery, like the foam on the beach and always escaped him. 

When he opened his eyes again, Jongwoon was watching him fondly, in a way that dragged Ryeowook’s heart down like an anchor. Ryeowook should tell him to give up the search, that what he wanted was right there. That Jongwoon was who he wanted. They could get married and Ryeowook would spend the rest of his life wishing he was sleeping in someone else’s bed. 

“I know you don’t want to marry me,” Jongwoon said and Ryeowook’s head jerked up, his eyes widening. “But I can still try, can’t I?”

“But why?” The words slipped out before Ryeowook could stop himself. “Why put yourself through this when I might not even love you by the end of it?”

“Because you’re worth it.”

The answer took Ryeowook’s breath away. He stared at Jongwoon, every coherent sentence in his mind cleared by the sheer devotion in the way Jongwoon uttered those words. 

“Hyung, I can’t–.”

“I know.” Jongwoon stopped Ryeowook when he moved to get up. “You don’t have to say anything.”

They stared at each other for a long moment more before the silence was broken by a loud splashing down by the water. 

“That’s a dolphin,” Ryeowook said, breaking into a run. He would never say it, but he was relieved by the distraction. “It’s beached itself.”

The dolphin was thrashing furiously on the shore, pushed too far out to swim back into the ocean on its own. He waded into the surf and Jongwoon came splashing after him, yelping at the chill of the water.

“Why do they do this,” he grunted as he ducked away from the dolphin’s flailing tail. Ryeowook was too busy trying not to get hit to answer. Together, they managed to move the dolphin onto its belly. Just as Ryeowook was about ask Jongwoon to run back to get more help, Donghae came stumbling from the direction of the castle. His eyes were fixed on the dolphin, who thrashed even more when it caught sight of Donghae.

“Easy!” Ryeowook gasped when a wave soaked him thoroughly, drenching