Chapter Text
For as long as the Creature could remember, he had been alone. Cutting through the murky water of his island’s lagoon with his webbed hands and feet, blending into the lush tropical vegetation with his mottled green scales. Even the golden glint on his skin simulated the sun’s reflection, allowing him to meld more easily with his surroundings. Every now and then he’d encounter a crocodile or shark, but his sharp fangs and claws and superior intelligence made him the victor in all fights.
The only injury that had left a mark- massive scars that disfigured his right leg, twisting it in a way that would have made him crippled, had he been a land creature - happened before he could remember; a time he could not remember beyond a fuzzy sense of dissociation and nausea, an occasional burst of coldness or pain…and a burning, overwhelming ANGER.
He didn’t dwell on that much.
He led an idyllic existence, in his isolation. There was plenty of food in the waters of his island territory, he was strong enough to easily maintain his position of apex predator, he had a cozy nest to return to when the weather became rough, and there was nothing to disturb his peace.
But…sometimes, just sometimes, he found himself sitting on the beach or at the bottom of the lagoon, staring off into the distance with blank eyes and wondering what it would be like if there was someone there with him? What if there was someone like him, who he could hunt and play and swim with? Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to share his cozy nest with another, to curl up around a warm, inviting body and know he was not alone.
He didn’t know where those thoughts came from, but he indulged them with the wistful resignation of one who knew they would never come true. There was no one out there for him. The crocodiles seemed to be his closest relations, with their green scales and sharp teeth, but they were not of his kind.
Nothing was.
When the boat appeared off the coast of his island, the Creature eyed it with fascination. He knew about boats, though he did not know how he knew. There were skeletons of such things near his nest, eroded to almost nothing through long years of abandonment.
But this one…this one was new, brightly painted and chugging cheerfully through the water, approaching his island at a fast clip. And there were many small figures on its deck making loud noises and running about in apparent agitation.
Burning with curiosity, the Creature slipped into the waters of his lagoon, swimming towards the bay closest to the boat, where he was sure it would make land. He didn’t know what the creatures were or what the boat was doing there, but he wanted to find out.
The next day, he found himself hiding away in the long grasses at the bottom of the bay, watching with wide golden eyes as a slim figure cut the waters over his head. He was completely mesmerized.
He’d watched the creatures make land the night before, standing motionless in the darkness behind the trees as they anchored off shore and set up tents and a campfire. A strange fit of shyness and a healthy wariness of fire had kept him at bay, but he still saw them, all seven men and women. Four men and three women, though two of the men seemed to be the alphas of the group, doing most of the talking and referring to each other loudly as 'captain’ and 'lieutenant’.
He instantly disliked them.
The other two men seemed more interested in whatever was inside the tents, occasionally emerging with beeping and buzzing boxes, and two of the women seemed to land somewhere in the middle of the social hierarchy. The one with short black hair held a long metal stick that could only be a weapon and watched the waters of the bay with keen, wary eyes while the other, with long red hair, splashed in the shallows and constantly tried to entice her mate - the one called 'captain’ - to join her.
But the last woman followed none of them. He never got a good look at her, beyond noting curly brown hair, but she was more interested in her items - books, that strange source of knowledge-that-wasn’t-memories insisted from the back of his mind - than in her companions.
At least, she had until this morning when the entire group had gotten back in their boat and set out to map the bay and the various rivers that fed into it from the island. They were well underway when the red-haired female enticed the book-lover into the water to play.
The Creature, shadowing them from below as a shadow in the reeds and sea grass, got his first glimpse of her up close and could only stop and stare, hunching down and catching his webbed claws in the loose silt of the bay floor.
She was gorgeous.
The sun illuminated her from above, surrounding her water-borne body in a wispy golden halo, slightly green from a reflection on the water. All she wore was a modest one-piece swimsuit in solid light blue, but the skin he could see was pale and flawless, her hair spread out around her head, suspended in the water just like his when he chose to float, and he knew her face could only be as beautiful as the rest of her, even if he couldn’t see it in detail. Her hands and feet were not webbed, nor scaled, and she had no gills or claws, but she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
Abandoning his pursuit of the boat, he instead slunk along beneath her, remaining hidden in the vegetation and watching as she frolicked with the red-haired female until the captain called out to his mate, and the last female was left alone in the water. She seemed to have no fear about being alone, even without claws and fangs to protect herself, and she drifted further and further afield, sometimes swimming and sometimes just floating at the surface, appreciating the warm sun on her face and the cool water beneath.
However, her apparent ignorance of danger did not mean there was no danger.
The Creature watching from below saw the crocodile, easily twice his length and more than double his weight, slide into the water with nary a splash, reptilian gaze fixed on the unknowing woman. It cut stealthily through the water while her head was above the surface.
Had he been alone, the Creature would not have hesitated to swim away from the creature or fight - he was faster, smarter, and more lethal provided he avoided the crocodile’s jaws, but he was loathe to abandon the woman. Her companions were far afield, the boat having gone a different direction while she wasn’t paying attention, so there would be no rescue from that direction. He glanced between the threat and the woman in blue, and made his decision.
Belle was not a happy camper. She’d come on this trip because it was a chance to see the world, a chance to travel as she never had before. When he’d proposed the vacation, Gaston promised she would get the chance to take in the local culture, to see museums and libraries as soon as they reached their goal. What he’d failed to mention was that their 'goal’ was a tiny, barely known island off the coast of South America and that they’d only be spending a day, tops, in the city on the mainland to chart and fuel a boat. She should have known something was wrong when he’d agreed so easily; Gaston HATED going to libraries with her.
Still, it wasn’t so bad. As annoyed as she was, the deserted island was beautiful and she had plenty of time to read. Ariel was good company, though she wasn’t sure about Gaston’s old friend Eric (the captain of their small boat) and she really wasn’t sure about Killian and Dr. Zoso - those two gave her the creeps. Mulan rounded out their small crew, and she seemed nice, but was too withdrawn and wary for Belle to get a good read on her.
Swimming was a nice break from reading and from the boat. It was too small to really avoid each other and Gaston simply could not seem to comprehend that she was still angry at him, and if he called her 'Babe’ one more time she was going to throw one of her heaviest books at her head. She’d mourn any damage it took more than the bump on Gaston’s head.
To be honest, it was that, more than Ariel’s pleas for companionship that drew her into the water and far from her companions even when Ariel returned to the deck. Oh, she knew they wouldn’t abandon her, but some time alone was just what the doctor ordered and she, consummate city girl that she was, saw nothing wrong with snatching some alone time on the wild little island, treading water with her eyes closed and face turned towards the sun.
At least, not until something grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her under the water.
On instinct, she tried to scream, but water rushed in to her mouth and abruptly she was choking. Air gone, she lashed out with blind, wild strikes, trying to return to the surface and kick away her attacker at the same time. Both were futile and even as her lungs began to burn, she knew she had to focus on whatever was holding her back.
Just as she realized, it yanked again and she was pulled down a good five feet. Before she could panic, something whooshed by her head, nearly yanking her along in its slip stream and smacking the side of her cheek, leaving her reeling. There was an odd 'clop’ of displaced water somewhere close, and it took her mere seconds to realize it was the thing’s mouth snapping shut.
The thing was a crocodile. The biggest she’d ever seen, over fifteen feet long. And it was glaring at her with hunger in its eyes.
Even the burning in her lungs paled as she realized the fate she’d just escaped - the one still staring her in the face and preparing to make another attack.
Then the grip on her ankle yanked again and this time, instead of going down with her, it moved to her hip, a vice-like grip holding her in place, then yanking her down until she was amongst the reeds at the very bottom of the lagoon.
By now, she wasn’t struggling. The shock and lack of oxygen were causing her lungs and muscles to burn. She could comprehend what was happening, but only barely.
The grip on her hip became an arm around her waist as a firm body attached itself to her back, and the other arm of her…attacker? Savior?… lashed out at the crocodile, ramming it hard in the nose when it came for her, driving it away one more. Then she was hidden in the long green grasses of the bottom of the shallow bay, their wavering tendrils stretching a good two feet over her head.
She simply stared at them, and at the fuzziness of the picture presented. Her body was shutting down without oxygen, and distantly she realized she was going to die here, drown and be eaten by the crocodiles. The animal responsible for her misfortune circled furiously overhead, looking for the prey that had vanished before its very eyes but somehow unable to find her.
Then, the hand that had attacked the crocodile was on the side of her neck, gently turning her head, and there were lips sealed over her mouth, gently pushing her mouth open. Had she comprehended what was going on, she would have been shocked and struggled, but as it was she remained limp.
Then, instead of kissing her, the stranger exhaled into her mouth, and oxygen flooded her lungs.
She came back to life with a shocked splutter, trying to push away, but when she looked back to the surface, the crocodile swam back into view and she froze, huddling down in the vegetation with her rescuer. She tried to pull away, to turn to see…it? him?, but he did not release her, keeping one arm anchored around her waist like a vice and the other on the side of her neck.
Struggling was out of the question; whoever - whatever - he was, he had saved her from the crocodile and seemed content to continue doing so, but she still tried to take stock of everything she could. The arm around her waist was rough in texture, and there were five sharp points digging into her swimsuit where his hand rested – claws, no doubt - and the hand on her neck was softer on the pads of his fingers and palm, but just as rough on the edges and what little of his arm brushed the bare skin of her shoulder. His body, pressed full length against her back, seemed human enough, if rather smaller and more compact than most men she knew, but there was an odd sort of current against her neck, a disturbance in the water that moved in time with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Because, based on that movement, he also seemed to be breathing underwater.
It all added up to one undeniable conclusion: he was not human.
…Which probably should have been obvious, but now she really had a chance to comprehend it. She swallowed harshly and almost breathed in water. Before she could panic, the hand on her neck gently tilted her head again and his mouth was sealed over hers. Having learned from last time, she opened her mouth willingly and he fed her more life-saving oxygen.
This close and from such an odd angle, she couldn’t see much of him other than a mess of curly brown hair floating around his face, the occasional glint of green and gold scales, and three waving gills on the side of his neck, the source of her oxygen and his breathing underwater.
So. Not human.
But also friendly.
This time, he did not move away and she did not push him off, both of them content to share oxygen. As the minutes ticked away, the shadow of the persistent crocodile remaining overhead, Belle had to keep reminding herself that he was NOT actually kissing her. To her embarrassment, her natural reaction was to kiss back when she felt his lips, especially since his grip was so careful. With those claws, he could do her a lot of damage even on accident, but instead he was as gentle as could be.
More gentle than Gaston, her traitorous hind-brain pitched in. She blushed and told it to shut up.
Eventually, after what might have been five minutes or an hour (being underwater conveyed a sort of timelessness, what with the sunlight distorted and no sign of time passing), the crocodile left and her savior breathed out for the last time, pulling away with what seemed to be reluctance and loosening his grip.
For the first time, Belle was allowed to turn in his arms and look him in the face.
He was more human than she had expected. His face was shaped almost entirely like that of a human, a thin male with a sharp chin and slightly crooked nose, save for eyes that were too big, and pupils that were too wide and reptilian. His ears were webbed and she could just see the edges of gills concealed behind them, matching the sets on either side of his neck. Letting her gaze wander, she found that his entire body was covered by small green scales edged in gold, with the ones on his belly and neck a paler color, containing more yellowish coloration than the rest of him that she now knew from experience meant they were softer than the rest of his scales, and no scales at all on the palms of his hands. His hands and feet were webbed to the second knuckle, leaving just the finger and toe-tips (each one tipped by a nasty-looking black claw) free to function. The only thing he wore was a ragged pair of brown shorts that looked on the verge of falling to pieces in the water.
As she studied him, he stared right back, strange eyes as wide as they could go, every once in a while darting glances between her and the surface.
When her lungs began to burn again, she smiled apologetically and turned to swim away. To her surprise, he followed and hesitantly reached for her wrist. Amused and for some reason touched by the shyness from such an obviously dangerous creature, she let him grab her, and then nearly yelped in surprise as he suddenly began to swim.
He was far, far faster than any human she’d ever heard of, practically dragging her through the water after him, and he swam at an angle. With every stroke, he brought her closer to the surface, but after a few seconds his secondary target also became clear: the shore.
Within fifteen seconds, she found herself in the shallows, head breaking the surface even as she stumbled out of the waves to collapse on her hands and knees on the shore, gasping for breath. He’d kept her alive and she would forever be indebted to him for that, but it felt good to finally breath on her own.
She turned towards the waves, fully expecting him to be gone or only his head to be visible, but to her surprise, he was standing in the shallows, water lapping around his thighs, watching her with his head cocked. He showed no discomfort being out of his element, breathing the air as easily as he had water. His scales looked lighter in the direct sunlight, his face more human, and his hair hung in limp strands around his face.
Belle smiled at him tentatively. “Thank you.” She coughed, climbing to her feet. “You saved my life.”
When she took a step towards him, he retreated, an almost comical look of shock crossing his features. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but all that came out was a strangled growling sound. He tried once more before giving up and diving back under the water, leaving her alone on the beach.
Belle let out a shuddering sigh and sat on the sand, curling her arms around her legs. The reality of what she’d escaped was still sinking in, but she had caught a glimpse of the camp through the trees and knew her companions would be searching for her soon, if they weren’t already.
Once her legs stopped feeling like water, and her trembles of shock died down, she stood up.
With a last glance back at the waves, she turned down the beach and headed for camp.
She couldn’t wait to tell the others what had happened.
Notes on this universe:
-Gaston, Eric, and Ariel don’t believe Belle when she tells them about 'the Creature’, but Dr. Zoso and Killian are VERY interested…but possibly not in the way she’d hoped. Mulan says nothing, but she never leaves the boat without a harpoon after Belle tells her what happened.
-Once upon a time, in the unknown-life he led before his memories, the Creature knew Dr. Zoso.
-Belle is far, far too curious for her own good and the Creature is more than willing to show her to his nest…and all the secrets he doesn’t realize are contained inside.