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After the wreck, Fitz blinks awake on the sand, his rescuer turning to leave.
"Thank you," he manages, squinting against the sun.
In a flash, everything changes, the tip of a spear dragging against his cheek, fear and purpose emanating from his rescuers movements. Though at this point maybe the term rescuer should be retired for something more accurate.
Fitz is trapped.
He swallows, a blush he's going to pretend is a sunburn heating his cheeks. His eyes are wide, tracking the spear, but they flick down the length of his attacker's body, passing a bare, well defined chest, to a fucking tail.
He's completely pinned down by the immense weight of the merman's tail, utterly at his mercy. Which he's noting for entirely strategic reasons and is having no effect on him whatsoever.
Before the spear can reach his ear, Fitz grabs it, the meeting of force sliding his hand down to meet the merman's. His razor sharp tail flicks threateningly closer to Fitz's other hand, and he draws his fingers back, breathing quickening.
"I-I'm im your debt," he swears, easing a leg up. "A life debt."
He wets his bottom lip, watching the merman take in this development.
"You never saw me. I don't exist. Mermaids are a thing of fiction."
His heartbeat keeps up with each syllable.
"Of course."
"Repeat it," the merman commands, voice powerful and gritty. Fitz's face is practically aflame.
"I never saw you. You don't exist. Mermaids are a thing of fiction."
"Good."
Fuck.
His tail flexes, and the merman twists off of Fitz, spear flat in the sand. His absence is felt, and though the danger is past, disappointment washes over Fitz. He begins to drag himself back to the water, and Fitz realizes the sheer amount of upper body strength it must have taken to carry him here as well, to where the tide only laps at the toe of his boot.
"Wait! You can't leave a life debt unfulfilled," Fitz calls out. "It's a curse in the next life."
"And why," the merman bites, eyes stormy. "Should I give a whale's blowhole about your human superstitions."
The whole "I'm a prince" thing comes to mind, but he doubts that would be well received. He's the spare anyway, the throne passing down to Alvar bar his death.
"You don't have the Powers in your realm?"
"None troubled with anything so trivial as dealings between mortals."
"A life debt is far from trivial," Fitz protests, sitting up. The merman instinctively tightens his grip on his spear. "At least let me help you to the water."
"It's only a few hands."
"Better for me."
"Fine."
Fitz makes his way over, heaving the merman up, holding his waist and just under a sharp fin, the merman coiling his tail around Fitz's hips, gripping his shoulder with pressure that will likely leave bruises. He just barely keeps from dumping the merman in the water once he wades to where it's deep enough that his fin won't cut through the surface.
The merman slips silently into the water with an eerily liquid grace, and he disappears into sudden darkness.
He surfaces a few meters away, meeting Fitz's eyes.
"You may be able to fulfill this life debt of yours with a vow of the sea."
"How does it work?"
The merman hurtles his spear towards Fitz, and he catches it reflexively.
"You seal your vow with blood, and the sea makes it so."
"And what shall I vow?"
"To shield our existence with your life. To provide sanctuary to those who ask it of you, those who sacrifice the sea for land."
Fitz hadn't even thought that possible.
"I vow," he repeats, holding eye contact. "To shield the existence of your people with my life. And to provide sanctuary to those who ask it of me."
He slits his palm, shallow, squeezing it to let blood trickle into the waters.
"It is so."
"What’s your name?”
"I am to give you my name for free?" He asks dryly, raising an eyebrow.
"Mine is Fitz."
"Tam."
Fitz throws the spear back. As quickly as he had surfaced, he was gone again.
He turns over the name in his mouth, tasting it, smoothing the edges like a sweet.
"Tam," he tries out.
The waves swallow it up.