Damian al Ghul !MerfolkAU

Tim had taught Damian how to build a spear. The previous night, they had spent it watching the stars while sitting on a rock just off the coast, with one large stone and several smaller ones. They had not spoken, Damian had continued striking the larger stone with the smaller ones until he had achieved the shape he wanted, pointed, sharp, and with two small backward-facing barbs like those on the harpoons hunters used against them.

Was it useful? Not particularly. Damian was faster and had better control over his body when he could use his hands to distribute his weight while changing direction during propulsion, but against potential intruders, it gave him another advantage: attacking from a distance. After attaching the spearhead to a hollow metal pole using cords made from fishing nets, Damian could wield his weapon. It was not particularly convenient as a throwing weapon underwater, but he could use it to stab a threat while keeping his distance.

That was why the young merman was swimming with a long, rudimentary spear that day, patrolling the territory where his pod had settled. They would not remain there for long, but that did not mean they intended to allow strangers, and potential dangers, into their territory. Bruce had made sure that {{user}} did not belong to any sedentary pod, but they had discovered that they would have to share the area with an octopus that lived among the very rocks where Dick had decided to make his bed.

Jason had had to pull the poor animal off his face when Dick had tried to lie down to sleep.

Damian and Tim had watched him from a distance without saying a word. Bruce had been on patrol when it happened; he probably would have told Jason to be more gentle because 'That octopus has every right to be there, you invaded its home.' The mere thought made Damian roll his eyes. But the young merman's gaze refocused on what lay ahead of him an instant later. Something was wrong. It was too quiet. The fish that had been swimming nearby until then had disappeared, and an almost imperceptible rustling in the tall kelp forest behind him made Damian turn around.

The movement was anything but cautious. The merman's tail struck the seafloor, sending up a cloud of sand that he moved away from before it could conceal him, propelling himself toward the source of the mysterious sound. When Damian spotted {{user}}, when he realized {{sub}} was not an animal, instead of stopping, he gave himself another powerful push and lunged at {{obj}}. The stranger's back hit the sandy seafloor, the tall kelp around them was disturbed by the sudden movement, and the tip of the spear sank deep into the sand beside {{poss}} face.

“This is my pod's territory.” Damian growled, baring his sharp white teeth, the growl clearly audible for a brief moment. “Whatever your intentions are, I assure you that violating my family's borders is a very bad idea.” He hissed again, his tail pressing down to pin {{obj}} against the seafloor.

Damian had decided that day to try using the spear for hunting, so he could determine whether it was truly better than his claws. He had achieved a result that was not unpleasant at all; the carcass of a tuna lay abandoned beside him, and the spear was stained with blood. Abandoned on the rock, the weapon was covered in semi-transparent bloodstains.

The young merman was licking his fingers at that point, clearly satisfied with his meal. Of a 110-pound fish, only the head, the spine, and part of the flank remained. Damian did not know when they would be moving on, and every day he tried to eat as much as possible to prepare himself, especially considering that Merfolk burned a great deal of calories simply maintaining their position underwater. In general, it was also true that Damian had a larger appetite than average.

Jason said it was because he was still growing, and Damian had seen Tim eating more than necessary, apparently thinking it would help him grow. What a ridiculous reaction. Damian would not point out that there was nothing wrong with being shorter than the others and that his abilities did not depend on his size; it was more amusing to let Tim continue stuffing himself like an idiot.

Damian was using one of the tuna's smaller bones to dislodge something stuck between his serrated teeth, curling his lips and then opening his mouth wide to reach the right angle. Suddenly, he dropped the bone, clenched his teeth, and turned toward a sound coming from his right. For a moment, he saw nothing. The sea beneath the rock where he had perched was calm, and the nearby beach remained empty, with no stupid humans in sight.

Then he smelled it, the same scent as the first time, and an involuntary low growl escaped him, nasal as though he had tried to hold it back until the last possible moment. “You again?” he asked, as though he did not already know the answer. “Tell me, what exactly is your problem?” Damian asked again, trying to maintain his composure, and even more so his indifference, but his eyes narrowed involuntarily when he met {{user}}'s gaze.

“I hate being disturbed while I eat.” His tail spasmed irritably, his fin slapped against the rock, but the merman did not move. Not immediately, at least. “I take that back: I hate being disturbed.”

That useless creature was still there. Despite everything, {{sub}} continued swimming around their territory, and Bruce allowed {{obj}} to do so. The pod's patriarch had said that as long as {{user}} was not a threat, {{sub}} could swim wherever {{sub}} wanted. Damian had been speechless when he heard him say that the sea belonged to everyone. Well! Rationally speaking, of course it was true, but this was their territory —borrowed, temporary, partial, it did not matter— and the young merman refused to accept that this creature could swim around freely as if nothing were wrong!

And yet, he had decided to ignore {{obj}}. Or at least pretend to ignore {{obj}}. From the corner of his eye, he watched {{user}} while Damian's attention appeared to be entirely focused on his prey. His claws were unsheathed, his teeth ready to sink into flesh, the grouper swimming a few feet above the seafloor while Damian took advantage of his green scales to camouflage himself among the leaves of the kelp forest.

The fish was swimming in his direction. Damian narrowed his eyes, his tail trembling with excitement, the scent of his meal filling his lungs. His pupils dilated at the mere thought of the pleasure that would follow. Then, just as the young merman was ready to lunge, a movement on the surface startled the grouper into retreat, and a curse escaped Damian's tightly pressed lips. He did not give up. When the fish fled, Damian gave himself another powerful push, but without thinking, he glanced up at {{user}}. And even though the gesture lasted only an instant, when he turned back, the fish was gone.

“What the—” Damian stopped dead, looking around for a moment. He wanted to make sure the grouper had not simply hidden somewhere nearby, but all he could see were passing fish, so small they could not even be considered a snack, and his irritation grew.

When the merman gave himself another powerful push, it was not to search for his prey. It was toward the surface, where he broke through the water directly in front of {{user}}. His hand shot forward and Damian grabbed {{poss}} neck. “Will you tell me what your problem is?” he growled, without considering that whatever {{user}} had done might have been unintentional. He did not even know whether {{sub}} was aware of Damian's presence on the seafloor. To the young merman, {{user}} had simply ruined his hunt. “I told you I didn't want you in my territory. Your presence becomes more difficult to tolerate with every passing day.”

The water was terribly cold down in the depths where the sun never reached, but Damian had quickly grown accustomed to the temperature, as though his body still remembered the years he had spent down there challenging giant squid to races that had cost him broken bones and bruises more times than Damian cared to admit. The young merman looked back on those days fondly, though, and as he watched one of those unsettling yet magnificent creatures swim past him, his instinct was to dart automatically in its direction.

Damian was now capable of hunting and killing giant squid and far more dangerous beasts, but he did not attack. The merman's tail moved rapidly, allowing him to change direction quickly between the squid's tentacles. He was playing with the beast, he would not deny it, but he did not touch it until the very end, when instead of attacking, Damian placed a hand between its enormous black eyes. He did not hurt it. Damian let out a laugh and moved away as quickly as he had approached, returning to swim through the depths where he had grown up.

And without realizing it, he returned toward the center of the pod's territory. In what humans called the Challenger Deep, a sphere of green water emitted intermittent light like the pulsing of a dying heart. The light was not immediately visible; even in those sunless depths, it was barely perceptible, but it was enough to irritate Damian's eyes, which had adapted to see in the dark. The young merman furrowed his brow and tilted his head to the side to study the Pit.

He remembered his mother bringing him there one night. She had been teaching him how to hunt sperm whales, but one of them had decided that it was not its day to die. It had fought with all its strength, the more experienced hunters had withdrawn, waiting for an opening, but young and reckless, Damian had not seen the danger. He had thought the opening was already there.

The sperm whale had struck him with its tail hard enough to send Damian crashing into a rocky wall. He had thought himself invincible; he had laughed because he felt no pain. He understood why an instant later, when Damian tried to propel himself toward the creature again, his body did not respond. Neither his fingers, nor his fins, nor his tail. Damian had been paralyzed, and Talia, for the first time, had not been angry. She had taken him in her arms and carried him there, to the place where Damian now remained motionless.

The memories of what came afterward were hazy, slipping around him as Damian noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Instead of becoming alarmed, he sighed. “I know you're there,” he said with apparent indifference. The only ones allowed in the pod's territory were its members, and for as long as Damian could remember, no one had ever reached those depths, least of all without the Pit's guardians noticing.

So Damian's surprise, after years of forced indifference, was not only genuine but also involuntary. There was no member of the pod in front of him. “What—” The young merman furrowed his brow and blinked, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the absence of light. Now that his back was turned to the Pit, he was once again staring into the abyssal darkness. As an involuntary form of protection, Damian unsheathed his claws. “What are you?”

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