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❛ pairing | ivar x reader
❛ type | drabble
❛ summary | after a merwoman is transferred for study, ivar struggles to bone with her.
❛ warnings | unhappy mer, mention of capture.
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"Open up!"
Violent splashing in the tank the men carry left Ivar with pause. A low twisting shame roils in his stomach. It sours the moment that his assistant unlatches the lid. The men shove the tank over and out tumbles a vibrant mass of soft lilac and gentle blue.
"Shut."
Partially disoriented from the shift of cool to lukewarm water, the creature pauses her swim. Enough for a mechanically enforced lid to seal the top of the aquarium. A great pound of force stabs the door some seconds later. Pale, lilac claws shove between the webbing between the door. Her claws shift from lilac to a beautiful jeweled periwinkle, clawing out desperately.
"She is beautiful," his assistant says.
And though she is beautiful, Ivar can only focus upon the wave of her blue hair under the water, waving this way and that. The lid won't budge. As strong as she was, she was nothing in comparison to the force this lid could withstand.
"And she is going to injure her beautiful body. Take care of it."
If that cessation of movement was anything to go by, she had. The merwoman gasps in enough pain to catch Ivar's attention just before she mopes away. Ivar turns his head back up, past his glasses, and focuses upon the creature. Her long iridescent tail sheened from lilac down, a slight hue of blue, bent neatly around her side in the pearl shell she lay in now.
"Good girl," Ivar's boots tapped closer, setting his hand against the reinforced glass. She shirks back into the shell, covering her breasts with one clawed hand. Obviously, she did not find this place to be home. In comparison to the vibrant aquarium from which she was, "borrowed," it likely dulled in comparison. This was her new home.
Ivar had need of her.
"You're dismissed," Ivar tells his assistant. The middle-aged woman slips out. He awaits the whizzing of the doors before clearing his throat.
"I am sure you don't understand why you're here."
Of course not.
You're a fish. A big, beautiful fish that may look human with that torso, those big doe eyes, and long hair that frame your curves. But you have a scaly fish bottom. Ivar finds himself pulling back, self consciously minding his slim slacks covering his growing arousal. Beautiful women, even fish, made him weak.
"There are young human children in my condition."
His condition? Her scales flare, reflecting interest.
"Young children who live every day with searing pain through their brittle bones. Who cannot walk. Or even die. You can help them."
He has her now. She crawls with her palms toward him, sitting down over pearls that line the bottom of her encapture. Ivar hobbles with emphasis forward. For whatever reason, she empathized with him. Perhaps she was a mother. Or perhaps a caring big sister.
"You secrete a something I need," Ivar explains. "To help them."
Her bright, jeweled eyes look him over.
"I'll return you to the aquarium, eventually." A lie, he knows, she is too beautiful to allow back with the brutal mers in the aquarium. "If I could bear to part with you."
Her tail flicks, and she emits a full-toothed smiles. In his time studying Mer-behaviour, he knows it is a thin line between that wicked smile before they chewed off your head— or, flattery. Ivar steps up, palm against the heavyweight glass.
"You are beautiful. Do you have a mate?"
His beloved Mer shakes her head, her hair flowing around her shoulders and face with the water.
"I am shocked. How is that?"
She shrugs her shoulders, retreating back with a soft rush of colour to her cheeks under that full lilac and blue tone.
"Well," he says. "(Y/N) is it not? Is that what the caretakers would call you?"
She flicks her tail, scooting toward the glass. Her palm cautiously inches forward, translucent with a beautiful pearly sheen. He hums as her hand makes content with his. The thick glass only seems to be a thin layer of separation.
"I have a gift for you. Something shiny. I'm told you like to be spoiled." He points up, toward the upper deck. Her bright eyes flicker behind blue lashes. "Come see me."
On the top deck, Ivar worked the buttons of the latch. Sure, she could get out. But it was a large drop from top to bottom. Not to mention her mucous would make it difficult to drag herself along. He sets his crutch to the side and crawls his way over. The top freely opens, and there's a moment where Ivar questions her reaction. To his surprise, she doesn't flop out over the edge, but approaches the connecting platform where he sat on top of several steps.
Ivar digs his hand into his rolled up slacks, finding the object in his pocket. She props herself up with the aid of a few steps, twisting her head to the side and curiously following his hand.
"It's a necklace" Ivar withdraws his hand, revealing a necklace of fresh pearls. At the middle is a shell, wrapped in something she can't places, and topped with shiny gems. She swipes it away from his hand, clicking claw against that shell.
"That's enough," Ivar motions her closer. "Let me."
He waits until she's turned around, bringing the necklace around her thin neck. With a clip, Ivar steps back to admire his work.
"See, beautiful."
She raises her hands up past her chest, playing with the shell. He thinks this must be the warm, full feeling that men get when giving their lovers gifts. He finds his hand reaching out, and despite a flinch, she lets him touch her hair.
