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christallise · 2 years

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creatures of curiosity

the prince of the sea ; hyunjin | series masterlist

word count: 5.2k

warnings: angst, fluff, fantasy au, themes of horror (no gore, just general feeling of unease), lowkey stockholm syndrome, hyunjin is uncomfortably very full on, implied sex, maybe don’t read if you have thalassophobia

a/n: this ended up much longer than i anticipated but it’s finally done!!! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ;___;

taglist: @screaming-wea-sel @drrramaaaqweeen @simjaeyunspinkytoe @frozenpeasworld @lovhyunj @lcvryu @yoyeolears @lix-ables @koovvie @hwnghyvnjn @lixtokki

The red sails above tremble under the whistling wind, a stark contrast to the gloomy grey skies. Undecided rain threatens to fall at any moment as the ship creaks and groans in distaste for the salty waters it safeguards you from. Truthfully, you had only agreed to venture on this expedition under the guise that it would be short and three weeks into it, you’re no closer to your destination. The captain had made sure that you were accommodated of course, you have your own private quarters adorned with silken sheets and gorgeous shining silverware; so not all is bad. Still, you’re what the locals dub “a landwalker” and for good reason; you would much prefer solid ground to the volatile waters.

Now the heavens pour open, a bad omen, rain begins to lash against your skin like tiny knives and you’re painfully aware of the entire crew's eyes boring into your skull. You’d heard them protest as you boarded, some even spat at the ground as you passed but you held your head high and made your way to the captain, maps in hand and ready to assist whenever needed.

“Bad luck to have a woman on board,” it’s the first time a crew member dared speak to you, or rather, about you in this case. You raise an eyebrow as he stares, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “‘Specially in these waters.”

“And why is that?” you quiz, mimicking his stance, “Blatant sexism or just plain stupidity?”

Your remark earns some jeers from onlooking crewmen, one even pats you on the back. The first man shakes his head with a grimace.

“Come on lass, you’re telling me you haven’t heard the tales?”

Of course you are aware of the stories, you remember your Father reading you fables of the Prince of the Sea, an eternally woeful being whose spilled tears crafted the very ocean you sail upon. It’s said that he mourns the death of his beloved and is in search of anew. That his elegy of sorrow enchants whomever’s ears it happens to fall upon, luring them to their untimely demise. As a child you felt sorry for the Prince, losing his betrothed and while mourning being pestered by unwanted ships in his realm. Now as an adult, you see the tales for exactly what they are: propaganda to prevent women from sailing the seas

“You need not concern me with your stories,” you reply with a scoff, “Especially not old wives tales crafted to fuel your sexist agenda.”

“Made up stories, eh?” he says through gritted teeth, “Ships go missin’ with women on ‘em far too much to be coincidence.”

“Then I suggest you keep your eyes open for trouble instead of wasting my time.”

You’re thankful when he retreats, mumbling what you can only imagine to be curses under his breath. It need not concern you, all that matters to you at this moment is tracking your whereabouts and leading the crew to their destination. Rain continues to fall, your hair begins to drip at the ends as you wipe the drops from your compass. The dial spins for a moment before comfortably setting on the east.

It’s unusually welcoming when night falls, the crew’s boisterous clamouring quietens and the final shanty has been sung. The deluge had finally subsided too, replaced by a vista of stars; you divine them, tracing the shapes of latent constellations. The ship sways with the tide, rocking the crew to a gentle sleep and leaving you almost completely alone, save for a few nocturnal sailors who chug rum like it’s water. They’d fall into an alcohol induced slumber soon enough. You watch the waves as they languidly ebb and flow against the hull and suddenly you’re homesick; longing to see your friends and family again. It has been longer than anticipated and will be longer still; you begin to wonder if they’re worried. The thoughts consume you and for a brief lapse in judgement, you consider joining the drunken sea dogs who are now passed out on deck. You shake your head and chuckle at their misfortune, unbeknownst to your own.

Fog begins to rapidly roll in seemingly from nowhere and at once your vision deteriorates. Through the thick clouds, you call out to someone — anyone, yet no one heeds your call. Instead, a haunting melody echoes around you, an otherworldly eerie requiem of sorrow that lurches your heart. You can’t control your sobbing, the tears flood from your eyes like waterfalls and your gut wrenches as the song grows closer and louder. Now, you can see the crew — some crashing into each other, some gasping for air, some crying uncontrollably and some screaming. They wail, they beg for the reaper to take them. And still you’re crying, weeping as you navigate through the mist to find the Captain. It’s futile, the density of the fog proving to be too much. Below you, the ship screams in agony; wood snapping and metal clanging and you feel the hull you peacefully watched not long ago be torn apart. There’s nothing you can do; you are at the mercy of the sea now and you simply pray. Pray that somehow you might survive and return to your family and friends unscatched.

The darkness steals that dream.

*************

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been out. A minute? A day? Time eludes you. You blink your eyes, squinting to adjust to your new surroundings and you’re taken aback. The room is extravagant, home to a four poster bed that almost takes up the entire space. On the walls are antiquated paintings, fitted with threads of golden embellishments that glint and sparkle. Below them, lies an immaculately tidy, pure white vanity table — adorned with opulent gems and jewels and a full oval mirror. Wherever you were, the host did not spare the details of your accommodation.

You decide to investigate, rummaging through drawers and cabinets to find some clue to your whereabouts. As you approach the door to the room, the faint smell of dew tickles your nose and it reminds you that your clothes are damp. Or, they’re supposed to be. When you look down, you’re surprised to find your attire to be drastically different; a long, pearl nightdress drapes over your figure. Now you’re panic stricken, knowing someone had changed your clothing coupled with the ignorance of your whereabouts proving too much for you.

Right as you’re about to beseech for aid, you hear it; the same chilling verses from the ship, echoing throughout the halls of wherever you are. Curiosity gets the better of you, your fingers twist the golden doorknob and you venture outside the confines of the room; warily following the music to its source. Through winding corridors and narrow passages until finally you find it.

In the centre of the room sits a grand piano but your eyes merely gloss over it. Instead, they focus on the massive window that touches both the ceiling and the floors; however, it’s the view that truly catches your attention. Through the glass lies a forest inundated by the sea, the sunlight above struggles to penetrate through the dense grouping of kelp trapped in the muted expanse. It’s astonishing, it’s magical and it confirms your location in an instant. Your eyes slowly return to the piano and you finally see the fabled Prince of the Sea, fingers ghosting over the keys in his haunting composition.

Your first reaction is to panic, your eyes dart around the room in search of somewhere to run, somewhere to hide as your face turns a chalky white, drained of all life. Your eyes blur as tears begin to gush from them and fear tugs at your soul. You’re too young to die, there’s so much you haven’t done. The faces of your friends, of your family flash in spectacular colours in your mind as your legs give way beneath you and you fall to your knees in anguish.

“Please, do not be afraid.” A voice, so soft and gentle it rips you from the maddened terror momentarily. Of course, it could only belong to him; such a melodic tone from such a frightening being; it doesn’t make sense in your head. “You’re safe.” “Safe?” You repeat, wiping the tears from your eyes and finally meeting his gaze; glacial blue eyes that peer into the darkest reaches of your soul yet the warmest smile you’d ever laid eyes upon. His golden hair is flattened against his cheeks, wet as though fresh from the rain. “You’re not going to hurt me?” “Hurt you?” His brow furrows and he genuinely sounds offended, enough so to manifest some guilt within yourself. “You have given me no reason to.” The guilt dissipates and fear creeps back up your throat. “Ah,” is all you can choke out, afraid that you may just give him a reason. Still, he is ever smiling and even offers a hand to help you up from the ground. Warily, you accept the gesture.

“Hyunjin,” he says as he helps you up, “And you are?” “Y/n,” you reply, dusting off your knees. “But you’re not just Hyunjin, are you?” To this, Hyunjin chuckles darkly; striding back over to the great piano and perching himself neatly on the seat. When you don’t move, he beckons you by patting the empty space next to him. Again, you are cautious yet you move swiftly to avoid conflict. “Only those who know me call me by my name,” he says, beginning to coax yet another melody from the instrument, “Others know me as—”

“Prince of the Sea,” you finish his sentence, eyes never wavering from the piano keys. “My Father used to tell tales of you when I was young.” “And you’re not afraid?” Hyunjin asks with faux curiosity, “How very brave. Or terribly foolish.”

You dare not answer, opting instead to listen to the music that Hyunjin plays so eloquently. For a moment, you both bask in the sombre song; sharing an odd kinship. Hyunjin plays from his soul, the chords reaching deep down into his core and manifesting in an elegy of desperation; of sweet sadness. It feels strangely humbling to hear.

“You are a good listener,” he says when your eyes gently close and you begin humming to the melody, “A trait to be desired.”

Perhaps he’s correct. Or perhaps civility is a mask for fear.

********

Time seems to stand still in the palace; since sunlight cannot breach the murky waters, you aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in Hyunjin’s domain. For the few hours after your first meeting, you wandered the empty corridors through twists and turns, leaving no stone unturned in this abyssal abode. One particular dark room, stowed deep in the sub reaches intrigued you so, however a lock kept it safe from prying eyes. In the meantime, Hyunjin has been perfectly pleasant towards you, making sure you are eating and drinking well and presenting you with many gifts — knick knacks of sorts, clothing and jewels that even a Queen would envy. You’re acutely aware, of course, just why he’s being so kind to you — the stories say as much. You have no intention of staying, your primary goal is to free yourself from his shackles and get back to your friends and family.

It’s one particular day (or at least you think it’s day) where Hyunjin requests you wear a very specific dress; one of scarlet velvet and trimmed with obsidian lace. Of course, you comply — fear holds its grip on you tightly and you worry that failure to do so would result in your early expiration. You meet him in an ample room with similar floor to ceiling windows as the great hall, only this room is littered with various sheets, splattered with a rainbow of colours and containers filled to the brim with glossy paint. In the centre of the room, Hyunjin sits patiently across from a black chaise; a worn apron protecting his attire.

“Wow,” he says, head leaning on a hand as he watches you approach, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

It takes you aback and you’re unsure how to respond; losing your composure for just a moment, your cheeks burning almost as bright as your gown. “Thanks,” you say simply with a small bow just in case before setting yourself atop the cushions. “You’re an artist?”

Hyunjin hums an affirmation, busying himself with architecting his easel and perching a pure white canvas atop it, nodding at a small collection of brushes at his side. “You could say that.”

“And your subject?” You ask warily.

“Sits before me,” he smiles, studying you with the eye of a true virtuoso. “Relax, Y/n. It takes time, you don’t want to be uncomfortable, do you?”

No, you do not.

So you sit there, still and quiet while Hyunjin’s keen eye captures your essence; his brushstrokes are as graceful and delicate as he is — they bewitch you into a trance. Your eyes gently close and you slip slowly into slumber only to be awoken by a gentle glissando. When your eyes flutter open and are met with a hydrous lyre floating gingerly in the air next to Hyunjin, you gasp.

“My apologies,” he says, eyes sternly focusing on the painting, “I did not mean to wake you, only to amuse myself with some music.”

“No, it's alright,” you reply, now very aware of the silence between you. There’s part of you that wants to get to know him, to know this mythical being that stories were passed down from generation to generation. Someone of that calibre must have lived a riveting life. Though to ask such questions out of the blue would be morbidly rude. “You’re a very capable man,” you hope to ignite some conversation, “A painter, a conjurer, a songster and a musician.”

“And yet, my social skills are severely lacking.”

You laugh, truly, and it shocks you. “A comedian too?”

Hyunjin joins you in laughter, chuckling as he continues darting his eyes between you and the canvas. “Truthfully though, I simply have a lot of time on my hands to learn new crafts,” he says once the laughter quietens, “Art, music, languages, literature; trivial pastimes to distract the mind.”

“How profound.”

“So it is true that if you brand yourself an artist people will naturally attach more meaning to the things you say.”

You shake your head as he jests, “Your words do have meaning, the stories and songs tell of your loneliness.”

To this, Hyunjin gives a poignant smile.

“I’ve learned every instrument, read every book in my library and speak every language that piques my interest and still, there is a vast emptiness inside me.”

Intense, but you’re glad to finally be addressing the elephant in the room. A sense of sadness falls about Hyunjin, one you hadn’t seen since arriving. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“I understand,” you begin, edging to the end of the chair and clasping your hands neatly in your lap, “Loneliness can be all consuming, especially when it’s born from losing a loved one.”

Hyunjin regards your comment with yet another pitiful smile. “True indeed, sometimes it feels as though my memories are more alive than I.”

The open honesty tugs at the strings of your heart; your compassion is immense and you have the impulse to lunge forward and cradle him in your arms. Hearing stories of his loss, details lost in transference, is one thing; to look him in the eye as his heart pours open for you is another. You’re at a loss for words, solemnly watching as Hyunjin continues his painting.

“Forgive me, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.” He can tell you’re lying.

The conversation comes to a natural stop as you assume the original position for the portrait. Hyunjin quietly hums along to the music as he works, occasionally flipping his blonde locks from his eyes. Briefly, you forget the circumstances of your arrangement; right now you are simply two beings sharing an unspoken moment.

“Are you excited to see the finished work?” He asks, eyeing you over the canvas, “It’s almost finished.” “Yes, of course,” you reply, “Although, I’m not entirely sure if I have the look for it.” This stops him dead in his tracks, his head lops to the side and he eyes you curiously. “What do you mean?” “Just that paintings are for the rich and the beautiful,” you say and Hyunjin scoffs.

“My dear, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

You blink, unsure of what to say.

“Come, see for yourself how others see you.” And so you do, moving swiftly behind Hyunjin and peering over his shoulder to admire his work. Before you, there is someone who resembles you, yet the features you are most self conscious about seem to harmonise. It’s mind boggling and you look down to Hyunjin in disbelief.

“This…doesn’t feel like me.” “Because your perception is warped. You see only what is reflected in glass or water.”

Now, Hyunjin turns to face you and you’re eminently aware of just how close the two of you are. It’s the first time that you’ve been so intimate with him and you curse your heart for pounding so much in your chest.

“You do not see yourself mid laughter or when you have your nose buried in a book,” he continues; eyes locking with yours as he raises his hand, cupping your cheek gently. “Those moments are where true beauty lies.”

How you are so captivated by your captor bewilders you, yet his words penetrate your soul; every inch of your body feels as though it’s set aflame. When you are ever silent, he laughs and retreats his hand. “Forgive me again if I’ve made you uncomfortable.” “No, not at all.” And you truly meant it this time.

*****************

The next week or so, Hyunjin’s gift giving becomes more frequent; every day you awaken to some form of gift at the edge of your bed, delivered by your own nautical magpie. Never have you been gifted so heavily, you begin to think your thank you’s are losing their meaning. Not only have you been bombarded with gifts, but each time you pass each other by as you explore or as he seats you at the dinner table; there is a veil of passion between you. Neither party acknowledges the faint tinge of desire but both feel it coursing through their veins. You do not yet understand it but you feel drawn to him like a sailor to the open sea.

Hyunjin had been leaving you alone most of the time, to your surprising dismay; allowing you freedom to spend time in the multitude of recreational rooms that filled the halls. Your most favourite of all being the library where Hyunjin’s vast collection of tomes rivals even the most learned academics in the city.

“You can read anything here, provided you speak the language.” Hyunjin had told you with a wink.

“And if I don’t, perhaps you wouldn’t mind teaching me.” You had replied.

And so he did. Huddled around a cramped desk, stacked to the heavens with literature and poems in romantic languages some of which you hadn’t even heard of. When you make a mistake, he laughs hard and it’s so therapeutic to hear. When you’re correct, he beams with pride and gently squeezes your hand. Another fleeting moment passes in which you are simply two people; two strangers becoming acquainted.

Once dinner time approaches, he leads you to the dining room and seats you directly next to him; this was new to you. Previously you’d been across from him and nothing more — your heart begins to pound in your chest.

“You know,” you say as you sit, “I’ve never seen a single person other than us here, who is cooking the food?”

Hyunjin chuckles, taking his own seat after tucking yours in, “You only thought to ask this now?” When you nod he shrugs, “I have an imp pet who takes care of it.”

You have no idea if he’s joking or not but the time to question him passes as he begins to eat; encouraging you to do the same. You would love to eat, really, but your heart is lodged in your throat and the feeling only worsens as Hyunjin takes your hand in his.

“Having you here has been wonderful,” he says, out of the blue and you can’t help but blush, “it’s been a long time since i’ve been this happy.”

“I’m glad I can help,” you reply, truthfully you don’t really know what to say.

The two of you finish your food, hands tied together the entire time and once your fork is placed neatly beside the plate, Hyunjin pulls you to your feet.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Soon enough, you’re met with the familiar view of the closed off room you found the first day you arrived and you look at Hyunjin with curiosity. From his shirt pocket he pulls a tiny key before twisting it into the lock and springing the door open; what you find inside is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

Glass replaces the concrete walls of the room, it’s like stepping into the open ocean yet breathing air. Sunlight pours in brilliant beams, illuminating the multi coloured coral reef that borders the underwater palace. Marine life is rife here, various schools of fish swirl in perfect synchrony, leaving a glimmering trail in their wake. You gape at Hyunjin before running off to get a better view.

“This is incredible,” you marvel, hands pressed against the glass, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.”

Hyunjin joins you, wrapping a hand around your waist; it catches you off guard and you spin to face him. Now, you can see him so clearly; bathed in the light of the sun, his eyes shine and his flaxen hair frames his features so perfectly. Briefly, you blink absently.

“Y/n,” he speaks low, maintaining eye contact and when you try to avert your gaze, his hand cups your cheek and reels you right back in. There’s a serene silence between you as he brushes the stray hairs from your face, taking in all of you. It’s when his lips press against your own that you lose all inhibitions, letting his tongue explore your mouth as his hands pull you closer by the waist. You cannot escape this primal need to be closer to him, to let your arms sling around his neck and allow yourself to be held; to melt into him.

One kiss is all it takes for you to tumble into bed with him. Hyunjin takes it slow with you, though you are unsure whether it’s so he can greedily savour every second or to provide you with comfort. Not that it matters when he’s making you feel so good. You lose yourself, submitting fully to him; letting yourself reach highs you never thought existed. When you’re spent, lying flush against him and panting, he cradles you in his arms and smothers the top of your head in tiny kisses.

“It might come as a shock to you,” Hyunjin muses aloud, eyes looking anywhere but you, “but I think I may have found my missing piece.”

To this, you glance up at him and laugh at the sight of his usually pale face burning beetroot, “What do you mean?”

“It means you complete me and I believe I am in love with you.”

Whoa.

Before you even begin to formulate a reply, Hyunjin butts in.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to reciprocate it just yet,” he says, now looking down at you, “I just wanted you to know.”

You truly are at a loss for words, it feels far too soon for your liking for him to be devoting himself to you yet you are blinded by the rose tinted glasses. Without answering, you nuzzle in the crook of his arm and allow yourself to be coaxed into slumber by Hyunjin absently playing with your hair as you drift into a rest filled with fantastical dreams of what could be.

Reality can never really compare with dreams.

The next morning you return to the glass room and gaze upon the bustling ocean life with childlike wonder, feeling fortunate that you get to view the sea life in a way no other mortal had. You follow the fish, counting every species you see and recognise. It’s not long until Hyunjin finds you and sits neatly on the floor by your side.

“You seem to like this place a lot.” he observes, leaning back on two hands to get a better view of you.

“It’s like a different world down here.” You reply, watching with awe as the fish scatter when what looks like a transparent shark passes through the reef. Strange. It’s only upon closer inspection that you realise it’s not a shark but the aquatic outline of a…person?

“Hyunjin,” you grab his attention by pulling on his sleeve and pointing at the figure, “What is that?”

Hyunjin barely gives a glance before answering.

“They are but wisps in the ocean, nothing to concern yourself with.”

You are unconvinced by his answer but dare not pry more. Instead, you lift yourself up and get as close to the glass as you possibly can to get a better view of the ghostly figure. As you approach the glass, a muted chorus of song can be heard as the figure drifts in and out of view.

“Hyunjin.” you say again, only this time much more stern. When a second figure joins the first and loops in the water, it almost crashes into the glass and your eyes widen in horror. “Is that a woman?”

Hyunjin remains ever silent as your eyes follow the ghostly woman as she sings, her song sending familiar chills down your spine. You turn to him, eyes filled with fear. “What…what is this?”

Hyunjin sighs.

“Sirens,” he says simply as though it were obvious. “They’re Sirens.”

Everything begins to fall into place, the jewels and gems gifted to you, the dresses that were so beautiful…

“Y/n,” Hyunjin is standing now, towering over you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Let me explain.”

You gape at him, words slip from your mind as you try to comprehend the gravity of what he has done.

“You did this?” You can’t hide the disbelief, it encompasses you.

Hyunjin hangs his head in shame, too afraid to look you in the eyes.

“Tell me the truth,” you squeak, beginning to back away slowly.

“They ran from me,” he begins through gritted teeth, “As though I was their worst nightmare incarnate. So I…tore their undeserving beauty from them.”

You cannot believe what you are hearing. “You cursed them?”

He gives a solemn nod.

“They will live a life of eternal yearning; an unquenchable thirst for lust that no one man can ever satisfy. That is what they deserve.”

“Is this the fate that awaits me?” You ask, a lump forming in your throat, “A siren lost to the tides?”

Hyunjin ponders the thought for a moment too long before shaking his head. “You were the first not to run. You are the first I’ve truly felt for.”

Although his plea sounds truthful, you cannot bear to look at him. “You could have let them go,” you say in barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you let them go?”

Hyunjin does not answer, for he cannot.

“I…I would like to leave.”

The silence is deafening. Every minute that passes where Hyunjin does not speak is a minute closer to your demise: you truly fear for your life.

“Then, you may go.”

What?

You almost break your neck to look at him; his eyes are reddened with tears.

“You…you’re serious?” you ask in disbelief.

“If you love someone, you let them go. I cannot keep you here against your will.”

You can feel the pain in his voice, like his heart had been ripped from his chest.

“Then, let me go.”

Briefly, he pauses and you fear that he has reconsidered but the fear is washed away with the tide as he beckons you to follow him. He dares not reach for your hand as he usually would.

The walk to the great hall feels like an eternity, with Hyunjin’s despondency bearing a heavy weight on your soul. Once you arrive, he stands firmly in place and gnaws on his bottom lip.

“I can take you home,” he finally says, “That is what you want, yes?”

The glimmer of hope that you will change your mind still faintly burns so when you nod your head, it crushes him. With a heaving sigh, he reaches around his neck and fiddles with a necklace of some sort before taking your hand in his own and passing it to you.

“Take this. If you ever change your mind, open it and I will find you.”

“A locket?” You say upon closer inspection, the brassy heart is adorned with threads of gold. “But this is precious to you.”

He bows his head, “Look after my heart, won’t you?”

Then, darkness consumes you.

*********

When you awaken, you find yourself somewhere in the sea on a rickety old ship just as before; except this time you’re bed ridden. You have no idea whose ship you’re on or how long you’ve been there, so you arise and make an attempt to seek out someone to explain your situation. As soon as you stand up, a splitting migraine assaults your mind — it’s piercing and you fall back onto the bed. With a hiss of pain, you throw your head back onto the pillow.

Had it been a dream? Surely not.

With haste you reach for the locket Hyunjin had gave you to find it missing. No…it simply couldn’t have been a fever dream — you refuse to believe it.

The sky screams in anguish as rain lashes down on the upper decks and you try to speak to any of the crewmen who are busying themselves with attending to the ship. Not one of them acknowledges you — typical. It’s by chance that you see one of the men dangling a chain from his hand, boasting to a friend that he’d won it in a card game only the day before.

“Excuse me, sir,” your attempt at being courteous is pathetic as your patience wanes, “That necklace belongs to me."

“Says who?” He snarls, looking you up and down.

“Says me,” you reply haughtily, snatching the necklace from his grubby hands.

As soon as the brass touches your skin, your body is set aflame; memories of Hyunjin wash over you like a tsunami — his touch, his taste, his smell. You’re flooded with emotion, drowning in the sweet sadness that fills your heart and you mourn the spark in the ocean, doused as it ignites.

“Bloody bad luck to have a woman on board,” the thief sailor spits as you loop the locket around your neck, twirling the golden heart in your fingers.

“Is that so?”

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