Carjen grinned, almost laughed, amused by the idea. This man? His family? Hardly. Sure he was growing progressively more comfortable around him, he seemed to be less of a threat now that they’d had their fun and blown off some steam. But the jaguar did not forget that handful of gold he stole, he did not usually get on well with thieves. Perhaps the man had been hired to do it, as a smuggler he was something of a mercenary, a man for hire, he could understand if someone had commanded him to raid the ship, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t like to be tricked or fooled or pick-pocketed. Instead he preferred control, to be on top of things, keen and aware. He didn’t like that this man had managed to surprise him and somehow had weaseled a fuck out of him, he still wasn’t sure how that had happened.

Carjen smiled coyly and closed the distance between himself and the merman, reaching out to walk his fingers up the naked man’s bare chest. “You would like that wouldn’t you?” He followed a line of sweat up the side of the man’s neck to his jawline, which he patted gently. “Sorry my dear, you’ll have to earn that place. I don’t make friends let alone family, but you are welcome at my castle at any time.”

He turned and moved away again, toward the line of trees that surrounded the waterway on what seemed to be all sides. The whole time he had been talking, he had been shifting as well, fur crawling across his limbs and up his chest like it was alive and trying to consume him. But once he’d earned some distance from the merman he really let it go and suddenly the fur and skin was writhing and roiling like an angry ocean as bones and flesh moved in waves beneath it. He fell to all fours gracefully, clearly expecting it when his knees popped and shifted. He arched his back and made a pained noise as the last few changes took hold- his snout, his whiskers, his ears. Then, with a brisk shake, he was free again, the beast that he was meant to be. He opened those same green eyes of his and growled, though it was a soft rumbling sound that could jaguars purr would’ve probably been one. He stood proud in the dying sunlight, all muscle and fur and let the merman get a long look.

“We eat whatever we can fit in our mouths.” His mind voice perked up, the same sound as his human voice, deep and smooth like butter. He purred again loudly, parting his jaws to run his tongue over his very white very sharp teeth. “But I suppose you prefer fish? Or pheasant? Or rabbit is plentiful in these woods, if a little hard to catch.”

Heartbreaker. Carjen had been called that before, both by his own intentions and against them, a couple of rough relationships in the past, some time as a prostitute, he’d been all up and down heartbreaker road. But the merman didn’t seem to take it too seriously and that was what the jaguar liked. He hated it when his decisions and motivations were called into question, he was just not a touchy-feely kind of guy, he didn’t give away places in his heart to any sexy man that wandered his way. He didn’t really give pieces of his heart to anyone, now that he thought about it. The thought struck a chord with him and he raced to change the subject of his thoughts, trying desperately to avoid the realization of how cold and lonely his life was. That was a thought for a dark night and a half empty bottle of wine.

Rolling his shoulders, Carjen basked in the attention he received in his feline form, not at all missing the merman’s mystified gaze. He was so busy lapping up the spotlight that the fingers behind his ears surprised him and he almost started away. But the cat in him, fond of this man and comfortable in his presence and with his approach, was ready for the affection, welcomed it, and the two feelings cancelled each other out so that Carjen stood patiently as he was scratched, seeming skeptical of it at first but relaxing as the gentle touches wandered through his thick but incredibly short coat. He was fond of being patted, he really was, it was a fine way to receive attention. But the spot behind his ear wasn’t really doing it for him so, somewhat hesitantly, he rolled his massive muscular head to the side to guide the merman’s hand down along his powerful jaw to a place under his chin. That was his favorite place to be scratched.

“Uh huh.” He spoke idly, distracted by the ministrations. This man really liked his snarky one-liners and seemed to make them regardless of whether or not the situation called for it. Carjen wondered briefly if that would be any different had they not fucked, but he suspected not and dismissed the thought with a wave of his tail. He chuffed softly, a rough and bumpy exhale of air through his mouth, a sound big cats made to show affection to one another and paused, thoughtful. Though he hesitated a bit, pausing with one paw in the air as though considering whether or not he wanted to step away, he seemed to come to a decision and plopped down into the dirt on his side, rolling onto his back to playfully expose his belly. The fur here was softer, thinner, more brown than black and dark rosettes could be seen like silhouettes in the patterns there. He liked to be patted here as well. “Perhaps some fish then.”

Carjen spoke idly, clearly distracted and not really focusing. He lolled a little on his back, purring contentedly. “Maybe you can show me some merman tricks of the water.”

“Not those kinds of tricks you moron, there will be time for that later.” Though Carjen’s words were harsh, the tone of his mental voice was amused and, playfully, he pushed the merman’s face away with a forepaw, literally mushing him with the dinner plate sized appendage. He didn’t push hard though, just enough to knock the man off balance and give him some space so, after he’d let some time pass and gotten his fill of scratches, he could roll over and stand and give his now ruffled coat a good settling shake. It’d been a long time since he’d gotten a good and thorough scratch, it was nice and he seemed pleased, content, comfortable, beautiful in the deep red glow of the sun, the light just catching on the edges of his whiskers and along the gentle curve of the muscles around his skull, illuminating him with a sort of halo of light.

He stood in it for a moment, noticing his shadow on the ground, but otherwise nonplused, he moved away after a moment, moving away along the shoreline away from the wading pools and swimming waters and out toward the river where the water flowed more freely and he suspected the fish would be more abundant. He knew nothing about this area and it was very possible that there was no fish in these waters, but from what he’d learned about the water of Oedir in his time smuggling, he knew there were fresh water fish somewhere and this was probably the largest water system on the continent. The chances of it being barren were slim, they’d find something to fill their bellies for sure.

Moving a short ways, he paused to look over his shoulder, to be sure the merman was following him. “I thought merfolk were supposed to be expert fishermen? I admit you’re the only one that I know, so these are just rumors I’m going off of.”

Carjen moved briskly, his movements swift and graceful like the water over some falls, fluid and effortless. He could’ve slowed his pace when the merman had to trot to keep up with him, but ever a pain in the butt and always interested in testing people, he didn’t and kept his pace swift and purposeful. His tail hung relaxed behind him, swishing this way and that as it bounced against the back of his hind legs. One of his ears twisted outward, pointed sideways toward the water, listening for the tell tale sound of liquid over rocks. He was looking for a current, something that would keep away swimmers so the fish would feel comfortable gathering, perhaps even leaping in the rapids. Would make them easier to catch. The other ear remained relaxed, and though he very well could’ve been listening to the wild tale that the merfolk beside him was spouting, he also very well could’ve been catching the songs of the slowly quieting birds above them instead, it was difficult to tell.

Carjen gave the fish man a look out of the corner of his eye, muzzle tensing in what could’ve been a snarl but showed no teeth so it was more some sort of expression of disgust. He was not buying the merman’s tale at all. He’d been around for a long time, and though he didn’t know many mermen very personally he had been to their kingdom to do business and did a lot of smuggling for them. If they were missing a prince, he would’ve heard about it at some point, seen posters or signs, someone would’ve questioned him in his travels, something. Princes were valuable things, they didn’t get lost like someone’s dog, there were searches and communication, wide tracks of land covered looking for them and certainly as a sailing smuggler he would’ve been a candidate for hire in finding a lost prince. No, it was likely this man was just trying to impress him. He realized it was his own fault for letting slip that he was a lord, now he was someone who needed a grand tale to be impressed.

Carjen nodded casually as they walked, bearing left as the path split, one off into the forest while the other followed a clifface down to the water’s edge again, opening up onto a sandy little knoll beside a small waterfall. Perfect fishing placement. Carjen wandered over and inspected the water briefly, crouching before it, seeming to almost sniff it with his dark nose. He didn’t bother to look at the merman or mind himself with what he was doing, focused on the task at hand instead.

“So you’re not going to help me fish then?” He asked dismissively without looking.

Carjen didn’t look up at the merman settling on a rock above him. Instead, he seemed to retreat inside himself, focusing, concentrating on the water, tense as a well oiled spring. His eyes scanned the water, first one way and then back the other, but his head didn’t move, his body was perfectly still where he was crouched deep in the sand. Only his tail showed that he was not a statue, flicking gently every so often as movements in the waves would catch his attention. He noticed the fish minutes before the merfolk pointed them out and the sloppy attempt at assistance made him roll his eyes and huff.

“Yes so very helpful.” He said telepathically, his mental voice dripping with sarcasm. He flicked an ear dismissively before returning to that tuned focused state he had been in a moment ago, his pupils blown wide, attentive, searching. He watched the small shadows of fish pass before him, waiting for something a little larger, a little more substantial, to come their way, which was a bit of a risk he’d realized later. He had no idea what kind of fish lived in these waters, if larger fish even happened this way. But sure enough the water darkened suddenly and in a flash he was not a statue but a bolt of black lightning. His hind legs propelled him forward with such speed it was difficult to see what was happening, just a mess of black fur and splashing water as he used his forepaws to reach into the water, splashing against the rapids to quickly grab his unsuspecting prey with relentless claws. Clearly, he had done this before.

Well, maybe not clearly. The current seemed to surprise him and with a surprised yelp, he was pulled completely into the water, falling deep within the rapids and disappearing for a moment beneath the water. But it was only for a moment. The river was shallow and, after righting himself, the current had flipped him around a tad, he sat up suddenly and shook himself briskly, the water only deep enough to reach his elbows. He was soaking wet and looking very disheveled by his trip against the rocks, but as he finally seemed to pull himself free of the current and back onto shore, he was able to fling the fish he’d caught in his claws onto the land in front of him. See? He knew what he was doing.

He paused to shake himself again, loose water flying everywhere as he dried himself. Though he probably meant to say something telepathically, all that came out was a rumbling growl and a disgruntled huff. He looked down at the fish sternly as it flopped in the sand. Stupid thing. He turned and went to catch another, hoping for at least three, though it was a good sized fish, he liked to hunt in excess. Made him feel powerful, in charge, on top of things.

Carjen scoffed loudly, a soft roar almost in his cat form, and rolled his eyes. “You didn’t save me, I had everything completely under control. You’re just a horny little prick.”

Though his words were harsh, the jaguar’s mental voice was full of amusement, almost laughing. Part of him wanted to admit that he was at least a little grateful for the merman’s intervention earlier. Sure, he would not have drowned, no one can sleep through drowning, especially not someone like him who rarely slept. But he would’ve swallowed some water, would’ve come up coughing and sputtering pathetically which might’ve drawn attention, would’ve made him seem weak and foolish, so the merman had saved him from that at least partially. If the flailing while dragging him to shore hadn’t done enough damage anyway. Turning back to the water finally, Carjen went back to fishing again, a little less tense and a little more relaxed this time now that they had one fish on shore already. The stakes were a little lower. Still, he crouched like a cat after a mouse, body still, tail twitching, his ears laid flat against his skull as he waited. It took a few moments, but eventually a deep shadow came along and like before, he pounced on it.

“No moat.” He said, stuttering with the effort of trying to talk and catch fish simultaneously. Fortunately he didn’t have to use his mouth to chat because this time he had to grab the fish in his teeth, it was too large to haul on land with his paws. Carefully, he stood from the river with his prize flopping against his muzzle, whacking him in the forehead with its tail as it tried desperately to free itself, but Carjen seemed to have a good grip on it. He stumbled a little in the rapids but made his way to shore before speaking again, lowering the fish to the sand carefully and holding it there while he let it tire itself out, lest it find a way to flop back into the water.

“It’s a small little thing, and up on a hill where digging a moat would be difficult. But there is a lake nearby where I like to fish sometimes, when business allows it.” He released the fish slowly and stood again, shaking himself once more to clear the water from his ears. At least he hadn’t fallen in this time. “You’ll see, it’s not that impressive, not at all like the castles in the storybooks. But it works, has a wall and a good kitchen, lots of food.”

The merman’s response gave the big cat some pause, though he tried not to show it, hiding it by dunking his head quickly into the water to grab the last fish as it swam by. He missed because of the distracting conversation and had to hastily leap in after it. He’d guessed that a man as long lived and well traveled as the merfolk would be difficult to impress, but this man seemed tickled by him, infatuated in a way that made Carjen’s ego flare and his heart flutter a tad. He liked to be impressive. Hell, he was impressive- a huge cat, a nobleman with a castle, a leathersmith with pockets full of gold, he was a catch by anyone’s standards and he knew it. But he liked to hear it from time to time and had to hide the way it was making him twitter by diving into the water. Again he came up a few feet downstream, again with a fish in his mouth, and again he stumbled a bit awkwardly as he shuffled his way back out of the water and back to shore. He killed the last fish with a flex of his powerful jaws and dropped it onto the pile with the rest, finally taking a moment to relax with a huff. He gave his fur a good final shake, sending water flying in all directions before plopping down in a sitting position, legs outstretched. Fishing wasn’t difficult but the current was strong and he had to practically swim to fight the rapids, he appreciated the moment’s pause.

“I do.” He looked up at the sudden question, licking at his whiskers idly with a rumbling purr. He usually kept his creative pastime a carefully guarded secret but he was tired, it was late, and he was beginning to like the company of this merman so he was feeling a little overzealous in his desire to share. Perhaps it would serve to impress the man even more, to show rather than tell him how he could wield a fire like a tool and get it to cook all sorts of things to near perfection. “I don’t have any of my spices or instruments out here but I can make do.”

He nodded to the man as he disappeared into the wood for the fixings for a fire, occupying himself by shifting out of his panther state so by the time the merman returned, human Carjen was sitting crosslegged on the beach beside the fish pile. He had picked up one and was gutting it with a claw that he still had displayed on his otherwise human fingers, and some black fur remained on the backs of his hands and in a line down his spine, but otherwise he was pink and pale and hairless as men should be. He kept himself busy with the fish while the merman arranged a fire, clearly confident that the other man had things under control. But three fish and a pile of innards later and there was still no fire, Carjen finally looked up with some confusion. He quirked an eyebrow and waited a beat, gave the man one last chance to do what needed to be done, but he just sat there and stared and finally growing impatient the werejaguar groaned and stood up to do it himself. He fetched a rock from the edge of the water, close to the river but not in it so it wasn’t wet and returned to the woodpile, holding the piece of sediment above it before striking it a few times with his claws. At first the air was too damp and he had to shake off both his hand and the rock but a few more attempts lead to sparks and a few more after that had a fire smoldering in the sticks. He went and sat down again.

“If they are anything like your lost prince tale, I wonder how many of them will be true.” He said dismissively, deep voice rumbling slightly as though the jaguar in him had not quite settled down yet. He went back to cleaning the fish with his claws, picking at scales and pulling apart strings of sinew and such with careful fingers. Though he seemed focused on his task and didn’t look up, he spoke up again after only a moment, voice tinged with an honest curiosity, like a scientist asking a question about an algae sample. “Surely you have at least one testament of cunning and daring bravery to share with me…”