Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Secret of the Seal skin ❯ Chapter nine: Cold sea, warm arms ( Chapter 9 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Kakaro 
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.13.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 128 | Status: Work In Progress
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.13.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.9K | Visits: 128 | Status: Work In Progress
The Secret of the Seal Skin
What would happen if an old myth, a fairytale often told by the fire, came true? After times full of misery Rowan returns to the Orkney Islands after the death
of her father, in hope to find peace for something she thinks she could not be forgiven for. In the end however, she finds quite something else in a mysterious man,
passionate by the sea, and by her?
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are mine, and mine completely, meaning that I was the one who created them.
They are my property and cannot be used in other stories with my consent. If you recognize a real person in these character, forget about it, I did not mean it intentionally.
---
**Warning, the following chapters WILL contain NC-17 situations!**
---
Fragment “Sea Fever”
“I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.”
~ John Masefield
Chapter nine: Cold sea, warm arms.
She had been right. The youth hostel was even worse than the plane which had brought them all to the island of Eday. To make matters even worse, they had to walk the entire way from the improvised landing strip to the old cottage which served as a youth hostel.
It was tiny, she had to sleep with seven other people in one room, and share one shower with everyone. She was sure than when her father would hear where she had lived the past three weeks, that he would be outraged. Hopefully at sir Abigail, who had began to act even weirder. He had continually asked whether she was fine, if everything was okay, had offered her another bed when she had begun whining about the quality of the damned place. She felt uncomfortable, dirty, as the looks he gave her surely meant nothing good.
She had tried to talk to Sarah, but she hadn’t been much help. Sybel couldn’t blame her, the trip had been exhausting, but still; she wanted someone to talk with about the strange behaviour, and she had hoped Sarah had been willing to listen.
Sighing she sat down on the bed, looking around the room. It was boring, grey, it had eight beds and two windows, one door. It was everything a youth hostel had to be, but Sybel preferred an hotel, a bead & breakfast would have been fine too, but apparently the school had dollar marks in their eyes.
The only good thing about the youth hostel was that if you looked out of the window, you could see the sea. Perhaps not at the very moment, the darkness was already surrounding the island.
Of course she had seen the sea countless of times, but something about the sea surrounding the islands was different. Wild almost, untamed. The teachers had promised that they would go walking on the beach in the morning, she didn’t like the idea of exercise in the morning, but the idea of actually walking the beach sounded nice to her. At least she could see the sea from up close. She didn’t have the need to swim, it was too cold to go swimming, at least to her. She had heard some conversations between the boys who wanted to go swimming.
She wouldn’t stop them, but she wouldn’t follow either.
The room, which she shared with seven other people, was empty. She had called out that she wanted to go get her sweater, the other were still in the common room. Sitting by the fire, talking, some had snacks. She had no idea where they had gotten those from, but she loved the idea of crisps. Perhaps if she looked sweet she would get some too.
The door opened, and Sybel looked up, seeing sir Abigail standing in the doorway. Her first reaction was fear, her second annoyance as she saw the same look in his eyes again.
“Ah,” He said, stepping into the room. “There you are, you stayed away for so long I started to worry.”
“I was gone for five minutes only to get my sweater.” Sybel answered, an annoyed tone in her voice.
“yes, it is cold.” Sir Abigail replied, closing the door behind him, causing her to frown. “Aren’t you too cold?”
“No, I’m not.” He found his way between the beds, coming closer. She stood up, not feeling comfortable with the fact that he was coming closer and closer. Too close for comfort, she thoughts as she looked him up and down. Blue grey eyes, greying hair, fattening belly. He was the very definition of a teacher. Boring, ugly, annoying.
He stepped forward, laying a hand on her shoulder. A bit too familiar. “I called your father the other night in Edinburgh, everything is all right, I thought you might wanted to know that.”
“Thank you,” Sybel said, feeling quite unsure about the hand on her shoulder. He raised his other hand, playing with the golden curls that fell down her back. She swallowed away a lump she hadn‘t known was there.
“Is that all?” She asked, wanting to get away, back to her friends. Back to a more… comfortable place.
“Your father will be so glad, he’s always worrying about you, you know.” Sir Abigail suddenly said with a strange soft tone. Sybel knew what that tone meant, she had heard it dozens of time, but she did not wish to hear that tone coming from his mouth.
“Why is he worrying?” She asked, not really wanting to know the answer, she just wanted to bide some time.
“You running off with all those boys, I didn’t tell him about London you know,” Sir Abigail said, his hand trailing down her arm.
“Sir Abigail..” She started, pulling away from his gasp, only to walk into his other hand which he lay in her neck.
“Please, call me Alan,” She did not want to call him Alan at all, she just wanted to get away.
“Alan, I really need to go now…” She said, quickly grabbing the sweater off the bed, wanting to turn away.
“No, stay just a little while, we need to talk about something important.” He said, blocking her path.
“I don’t want to talk, let me through!” She hissed, clenching her teeth as she realised he wasn’t letting her go.
“We need to talk Sybel, about our future together. Your father was delighted when I asked him for your hand,”
It was as if someone dropped a stone in her gut, her hearing went mute. Did he just say, their future together? She swallowed hard, staring at him as if he was a monster of sorts. He kept on blabbering about children, houses, work, money, but she didn’t hear it.
“No,” She said, shaking her head. “No, I don’t want it. I don’t believe it.”
“Your father has agreed.” Alan said, shrugging, with a most.. horrible look in his eyes. She knew that look, it was lust. “We’ll marry as soon as you leave school.”
“I won’t marry,” Sybel said forcefully, staring at him terrified. “Not with you, most definitely not with you.”
His gaze got a bit more intense, and she nearly puked as she saw him lick his lips. “I won’t you hear me?!” She pushed him aside with all the force she had in her frail body but he grabbed her wrists.
“it’s the will of your father, do you dare to disobey him?” He hissed, his tone exited. He was actually enjoying her struggle, which only made her more rebellious.
“My father can go to hell if he ever agreed with it!’ She screamed, and kicked, aiming at his shins.
He only laughed, pulling her against his chest as he forcefully pressed his lips onto her. She could smell the stench coming from him, and she was afraid it would never leave her nose again. He was trying to force his tongue through her lips, but she resisted. He added a thumb to her jaw, opening her mouth open. His tongue was slimy, and had a foul taste. She screamed against his mouth, kicking against his body but he seemed only more excited by it. She hoped she was mistaking, but she felt something growing against her stomach.
She tried to push the tongue out of her mouth, but he was bigger, and stronger, and he held her in an iron grip. His hand was groping, nearly tearing off her shirt in his enthusiasm.
She screamed again, panic gripping her mind as he started to moan. With a final effort she kicked against his shin, but it didn’t help, another vicious thought entered her mind. Without a moment of hesitation she clenched her jaw, his teeth biting into his tongue, tasting fresh warm blood on her own tongue before he howled in anger and pain.
As he raised his hands to examine his tongue she saw it as an opportunity to escape, and so she did. Turning on her heels she dropped the sweater, running for the door, through the door, down the hallway to the front door. She had to get away, she couldn’t believe what she had done. If the others ever knew she would be deader then dead. She just kissed a teacher! He kissed her!
The feeling of disgust nearly consumed her as she ran down the road, trying to keep the shirt together, which was nearly torn to pieces. Spitting out the blood in her mouth she ran through the dunes, towards the sea. The sea, the sea, it had a claming sound, a cool breeze finding it’s way to her. Darkness was quickly rolling in, and all her dazed mind knew was that if she would reach the beach at dark, no one would find her there. She would hide in the dunes, and it would be too dark to see her. The sun wouldn’t set completely, Orkney had night less summers, but it would be dark enough to hide.
The sand was a welcome feeling, almost soothing as memories of her mother and father on the beach flooded her mind. Her father, how could he have done this? How could he? Selling her off to that horrible man as if she was some kind of beast, animal, cattle.
Tears began to stream down her face, her breath ragged still with panic and fear. Her feet just walked their own walk, carrying her to the water, to the sea.
She could feel the salty water around her ankles, the waves crashing against her shins. It felt good, and she stared off into the distance.
She simply couldn’t believe her father had actually agreed a marriage for her, very much like his own. His marriage had been an arranged one, and although he said he was happy with her mother she knew he had a mistress somewhere. It was the perfume which followed him when he came home late, it wasn’t her mothers.
Her mother didn’t seem to mind, or simply didn’t wish to mind, but she had always said that she hoped that her own daughter would have a free choice in marrying someone.
Apparently her father hadn’t agreed.
Tears fell down into the sea, the water came to her knees. One tear, two tears. She couldn’t stop, didn’t wished to stop them. They felt good, cleaning her mind, her body, the foul taste in her mouth. Seven tears fell into the sea, her sobbing joining the sound of crashing waves.
She had no idea how long she had stood there, listening to the sound of waves, the sound of her own sobbing, distant and far. She was lost in her misery, hugging herself as the cool breeze had gone cold.
She did not notice, perhaps because it had grown dark, perhaps because she was too lost in mind, but a soft voice called her name, causing her to jump up.
Someone was standing in the sea, not far from her. Her height, if not a little taller. He called her name again, soothing, calming. It wasn’t sir Abigail’s voice, nor any of her other teachers. It wasn’t Sarah she was sure, it was a man.
A young man, by the sound of his voice.
“Who are you?” She called out, hugging herself closer as if it would protect her from any more harm. She felt nude, her torn shirt not covering much.
“I am Leod,” The young man replied, coming closer. She could see him faintly in the dark. He was lean, his torso bare for some odd reason. She was freezing in her torn shirt, and he was walking through the cold night with a bare chest. He was wearing a trousers of sorts, at least she thought so, he wasn’t completely… naked.
But still, she had no idea whom he was. He had an odd voice, rich and rolling, with an accent which could only be Orcadian.
“Did sir Abigail send you?” She nearly lost her voice in panic, fearing that sir Abigail had send for her. She had no idea what time it was, how long she had stood there, in the freezing water.
“No, you send for me.” He said, sincerely confused.
Just as she was.
“I didn’t send for nobody, please leave me alone!” She cried out, on the verge of tears. “I don’t know who you are, go away!”
“You cried seven tears into the sea..” The man, seemingly young in years insisted, giving her an odd look.
She stared back at him, not knowing what he was talking about. “What did you say?”
“You cried seven tears,” The man said again, a little less patient. She couldn’t see what he looked like in the dark. It was dark, the night had fully taken over the day, and if she hadn’t known that there actually was someone standing right in front of her she had just walked right past him.
“So you counted them or anything??” She spat out, clutching what was left of the t-shirt she had worn. She saw him, more or less, stare in confusion. His gaze then wandered, looking her up and down. She felt a blush rising and she bit her bottom lip. The last thing she had wanted was running into the arms of another horny man. One was already bad enough.
“You don’t know what happens when you shed seven tears into the Orcadian sea?” His voice was soft, and held a strange tone, almost as if he knew something she did not. He probably did, for she had no idea what he was talking about. In fact, she had difficulty understanding him at all, since his accent was so thick that it almost seemed that he was growling instead of talking.
“No, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You haven’t heard about Selkies?”
“What the fuck are Selkies??” She nearly cried out, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute as she was standing there all alone with this strange man, in the middle of the sea, completely surrounded by darkness. The island was cursed, she just knew it was. Every man who would ever set foot on this island became a horny greedy bastard.
“Selkies are seal people, they shed their skin to become human.” He explained, calmly, as if he was talking to a hysterical child. “Whenever an Orcadian woman, unmarried or married, sheds seven tears into the sea, a Selkie will come ashore, lay off his magical skin and seek ‘unlawful love’ with the woman who called him.”
He tilted his head at her, as if waiting for her reply. She stared at him dumbfounded, the first thing coming in mind that he was probably mentally handicapped or anything, because he stood here in the middle of the night, practically naked except for a skin around his waist, talking about fairytales. That was until she realized what he was talking about.
“You mean they had sex?” She blurted out, staring at him as if he had suddenly changed into a monster.
“Well I tried to put it nicely but..”
“So if someone cries seven tears into the ocean some sort of gigolo comes out at he has sex with her…?”
“Well, yes I don’t see…”
“Are you implying that you came here to have sex with me because I cried my goddamned eyes out??” She shrieked, her hands forming fists as she glared at him.
“You didn’t..?” He stammered, blinking at her in complete confusion.
“No I did not come here to have sex with anyone!” She took a step forward and started punching his chest in frustration. He caught her wrists easily, holding her away from himself while she tried to kick him. “I got practically raped back there, and now you come here and you want to have sex?” She kicked him in the gut, and smirked in hateful satisfaction as she saw him double over in pain, hearing him groan. She saw it as the perfect opportunity to run away, and she turned around on her heels running across the shore, away from the young man who called after her with a voice full of panic.
He followed her, she could hear his footsteps, the splashing of the water behind her. She screamed again, fear gripping her heart as she tried to outrun him with all her might.
He called after her again, warning her, but she paid no heed. For all she knew he could be fooling her, wishing to rape her just as that idiot teacher in the youth hostel. The water got deeper, the waves becoming higher as she tried to get away. Soon she fell over, diving into the water that came till her waist. Still she could hear him call after her, and she tried to swim away as fast as she could.
But panic soon gripped her heart as she was suddenly pulled under as if by an invisible hand, and she realised she had swam straight into a strong current. She fought with all her might, keeping her head up while she screamed. Her unwanted suitor became suddenly her valiant hero as he dove straight after her, grabbing her wrist, pulling her up above the waves so she could breath.
The waves were pulling her down, and she coughed as seawater got into her throat, but the young man held her hand with an iron grip as he began to swim back to shore, seemingly without effort while she kept struggling.
“Hold still, calm down.” She heard him say. “you won’t make it any easier if you keep fighting the waves.”
She wanted to shout something in his face, something like shut up, or go away, but she still felt the undertow pull at her legs so instead of letting go she grabbed his hand; letting him pull her into his embrace.
Safe from the water, but also in the hands of someone she did not know at all. It hadn’t stopped her in the past, after three beers and in the middle of the big city, but now she was alone on a beach and it didn’t make her very happy., it made her feel uncertain, remembering the hands of that vile man back at the hostel.
She should go back, perhaps convince some teachers that what sir Abigail did was wrong. But she did not have the courage, she didn’t want to go back.
Tears started to come again, pressing against the back of her eyes. A sob escaped her lips, a wave nearly knocking her off balance.
“Hey,” her saviour said softly, wiping away the tear which was rolling down her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
His voice was soft, sincere, and it only made her cry even louder. Tears were unstoppable, and she rested her head against his shoulder, not caring whether she did not know him at all. He only laid his arms around her tighter, laying his face in the nape of her neck as he let her cry for the moment.
“I don’t want to go back..!” She sobbed, feeling hysterical. Everything seemed better than returning, and if he had saved her, couldn’t he save her again.
“To where?” He asked, and she looked up, noticing that he had grey eyes. Beautiful, astounding grey eyes. He could be a valiant hero, she thought.
“To the youth hostel, there’s someone.. there’s someone.. I don’t want to see him,” He nodded, looking at her with worried eyes. He was truly worried, probably scared shitless too. She was acting stupid. She sniffed, wiping her eyes. She had to pull herself together, he was probably thinking he had saved some lunatic from the waves.
She was soaked, her curls plastered to her skull, her mascara leaving black traces down her cheeks. Her clothes wet through and through, or what was left of the shirt she was wearing.
“You don’t want to go back?’ He asked, he was just as soaked as she was, but he didn’t seemed bothered by the cold air. She shook her head, anywhere better than back there. She didn’t have the courage, not yet.
“No, I don’t want to go back.” She said softly, silently wondering whether she made a mistake or not.
“I have a little house, not far from here,” He said, releasing her from his embrace only to lay his arm around her shoulders in a protective way. “Nobody will find you there, you’ll be safe.”
“Do you promise you won’t do anything?”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought that he smiling as he said; “No, I won’t do anything if you don’t want to. I may be a selkie, but I am not a rapist, although many a folk think I am…”
She ignored the fact that he had called himself a selkie again, letting him guide her away, across the beach to somewhere where she would be safe.
She felt safe, with his hand on her shoulder in a protective way. He meant her no harm, she could feel it. It calmed her down, stopping the tears from flooding. He didn’t mean her any harm, Leod, he had said his name was Leod.
She could trust Leod, it sounded better than Alan…
Tbc…
What would happen if an old myth, a fairytale often told by the fire, came true? After times full of misery Rowan returns to the Orkney Islands after the death
of her father, in hope to find peace for something she thinks she could not be forgiven for. In the end however, she finds quite something else in a mysterious man,
passionate by the sea, and by her?
DISCLAIMER: All the characters in this story are mine, and mine completely, meaning that I was the one who created them.
They are my property and cannot be used in other stories with my consent. If you recognize a real person in these character, forget about it, I did not mean it intentionally.
---
**Warning, the following chapters WILL contain NC-17 situations!**
---
Fragment “Sea Fever”
“I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.”
~ John Masefield
Chapter nine: Cold sea, warm arms.
She had been right. The youth hostel was even worse than the plane which had brought them all to the island of Eday. To make matters even worse, they had to walk the entire way from the improvised landing strip to the old cottage which served as a youth hostel.
It was tiny, she had to sleep with seven other people in one room, and share one shower with everyone. She was sure than when her father would hear where she had lived the past three weeks, that he would be outraged. Hopefully at sir Abigail, who had began to act even weirder. He had continually asked whether she was fine, if everything was okay, had offered her another bed when she had begun whining about the quality of the damned place. She felt uncomfortable, dirty, as the looks he gave her surely meant nothing good.
She had tried to talk to Sarah, but she hadn’t been much help. Sybel couldn’t blame her, the trip had been exhausting, but still; she wanted someone to talk with about the strange behaviour, and she had hoped Sarah had been willing to listen.
Sighing she sat down on the bed, looking around the room. It was boring, grey, it had eight beds and two windows, one door. It was everything a youth hostel had to be, but Sybel preferred an hotel, a bead & breakfast would have been fine too, but apparently the school had dollar marks in their eyes.
The only good thing about the youth hostel was that if you looked out of the window, you could see the sea. Perhaps not at the very moment, the darkness was already surrounding the island.
Of course she had seen the sea countless of times, but something about the sea surrounding the islands was different. Wild almost, untamed. The teachers had promised that they would go walking on the beach in the morning, she didn’t like the idea of exercise in the morning, but the idea of actually walking the beach sounded nice to her. At least she could see the sea from up close. She didn’t have the need to swim, it was too cold to go swimming, at least to her. She had heard some conversations between the boys who wanted to go swimming.
She wouldn’t stop them, but she wouldn’t follow either.
The room, which she shared with seven other people, was empty. She had called out that she wanted to go get her sweater, the other were still in the common room. Sitting by the fire, talking, some had snacks. She had no idea where they had gotten those from, but she loved the idea of crisps. Perhaps if she looked sweet she would get some too.
The door opened, and Sybel looked up, seeing sir Abigail standing in the doorway. Her first reaction was fear, her second annoyance as she saw the same look in his eyes again.
“Ah,” He said, stepping into the room. “There you are, you stayed away for so long I started to worry.”
“I was gone for five minutes only to get my sweater.” Sybel answered, an annoyed tone in her voice.
“yes, it is cold.” Sir Abigail replied, closing the door behind him, causing her to frown. “Aren’t you too cold?”
“No, I’m not.” He found his way between the beds, coming closer. She stood up, not feeling comfortable with the fact that he was coming closer and closer. Too close for comfort, she thoughts as she looked him up and down. Blue grey eyes, greying hair, fattening belly. He was the very definition of a teacher. Boring, ugly, annoying.
He stepped forward, laying a hand on her shoulder. A bit too familiar. “I called your father the other night in Edinburgh, everything is all right, I thought you might wanted to know that.”
“Thank you,” Sybel said, feeling quite unsure about the hand on her shoulder. He raised his other hand, playing with the golden curls that fell down her back. She swallowed away a lump she hadn‘t known was there.
“Is that all?” She asked, wanting to get away, back to her friends. Back to a more… comfortable place.
“Your father will be so glad, he’s always worrying about you, you know.” Sir Abigail suddenly said with a strange soft tone. Sybel knew what that tone meant, she had heard it dozens of time, but she did not wish to hear that tone coming from his mouth.
“Why is he worrying?” She asked, not really wanting to know the answer, she just wanted to bide some time.
“You running off with all those boys, I didn’t tell him about London you know,” Sir Abigail said, his hand trailing down her arm.
“Sir Abigail..” She started, pulling away from his gasp, only to walk into his other hand which he lay in her neck.
“Please, call me Alan,” She did not want to call him Alan at all, she just wanted to get away.
“Alan, I really need to go now…” She said, quickly grabbing the sweater off the bed, wanting to turn away.
“No, stay just a little while, we need to talk about something important.” He said, blocking her path.
“I don’t want to talk, let me through!” She hissed, clenching her teeth as she realised he wasn’t letting her go.
“We need to talk Sybel, about our future together. Your father was delighted when I asked him for your hand,”
It was as if someone dropped a stone in her gut, her hearing went mute. Did he just say, their future together? She swallowed hard, staring at him as if he was a monster of sorts. He kept on blabbering about children, houses, work, money, but she didn’t hear it.
“No,” She said, shaking her head. “No, I don’t want it. I don’t believe it.”
“Your father has agreed.” Alan said, shrugging, with a most.. horrible look in his eyes. She knew that look, it was lust. “We’ll marry as soon as you leave school.”
“I won’t marry,” Sybel said forcefully, staring at him terrified. “Not with you, most definitely not with you.”
His gaze got a bit more intense, and she nearly puked as she saw him lick his lips. “I won’t you hear me?!” She pushed him aside with all the force she had in her frail body but he grabbed her wrists.
“it’s the will of your father, do you dare to disobey him?” He hissed, his tone exited. He was actually enjoying her struggle, which only made her more rebellious.
“My father can go to hell if he ever agreed with it!’ She screamed, and kicked, aiming at his shins.
He only laughed, pulling her against his chest as he forcefully pressed his lips onto her. She could smell the stench coming from him, and she was afraid it would never leave her nose again. He was trying to force his tongue through her lips, but she resisted. He added a thumb to her jaw, opening her mouth open. His tongue was slimy, and had a foul taste. She screamed against his mouth, kicking against his body but he seemed only more excited by it. She hoped she was mistaking, but she felt something growing against her stomach.
She tried to push the tongue out of her mouth, but he was bigger, and stronger, and he held her in an iron grip. His hand was groping, nearly tearing off her shirt in his enthusiasm.
She screamed again, panic gripping her mind as he started to moan. With a final effort she kicked against his shin, but it didn’t help, another vicious thought entered her mind. Without a moment of hesitation she clenched her jaw, his teeth biting into his tongue, tasting fresh warm blood on her own tongue before he howled in anger and pain.
As he raised his hands to examine his tongue she saw it as an opportunity to escape, and so she did. Turning on her heels she dropped the sweater, running for the door, through the door, down the hallway to the front door. She had to get away, she couldn’t believe what she had done. If the others ever knew she would be deader then dead. She just kissed a teacher! He kissed her!
The feeling of disgust nearly consumed her as she ran down the road, trying to keep the shirt together, which was nearly torn to pieces. Spitting out the blood in her mouth she ran through the dunes, towards the sea. The sea, the sea, it had a claming sound, a cool breeze finding it’s way to her. Darkness was quickly rolling in, and all her dazed mind knew was that if she would reach the beach at dark, no one would find her there. She would hide in the dunes, and it would be too dark to see her. The sun wouldn’t set completely, Orkney had night less summers, but it would be dark enough to hide.
The sand was a welcome feeling, almost soothing as memories of her mother and father on the beach flooded her mind. Her father, how could he have done this? How could he? Selling her off to that horrible man as if she was some kind of beast, animal, cattle.
Tears began to stream down her face, her breath ragged still with panic and fear. Her feet just walked their own walk, carrying her to the water, to the sea.
She could feel the salty water around her ankles, the waves crashing against her shins. It felt good, and she stared off into the distance.
She simply couldn’t believe her father had actually agreed a marriage for her, very much like his own. His marriage had been an arranged one, and although he said he was happy with her mother she knew he had a mistress somewhere. It was the perfume which followed him when he came home late, it wasn’t her mothers.
Her mother didn’t seem to mind, or simply didn’t wish to mind, but she had always said that she hoped that her own daughter would have a free choice in marrying someone.
Apparently her father hadn’t agreed.
Tears fell down into the sea, the water came to her knees. One tear, two tears. She couldn’t stop, didn’t wished to stop them. They felt good, cleaning her mind, her body, the foul taste in her mouth. Seven tears fell into the sea, her sobbing joining the sound of crashing waves.
She had no idea how long she had stood there, listening to the sound of waves, the sound of her own sobbing, distant and far. She was lost in her misery, hugging herself as the cool breeze had gone cold.
She did not notice, perhaps because it had grown dark, perhaps because she was too lost in mind, but a soft voice called her name, causing her to jump up.
Someone was standing in the sea, not far from her. Her height, if not a little taller. He called her name again, soothing, calming. It wasn’t sir Abigail’s voice, nor any of her other teachers. It wasn’t Sarah she was sure, it was a man.
A young man, by the sound of his voice.
“Who are you?” She called out, hugging herself closer as if it would protect her from any more harm. She felt nude, her torn shirt not covering much.
“I am Leod,” The young man replied, coming closer. She could see him faintly in the dark. He was lean, his torso bare for some odd reason. She was freezing in her torn shirt, and he was walking through the cold night with a bare chest. He was wearing a trousers of sorts, at least she thought so, he wasn’t completely… naked.
But still, she had no idea whom he was. He had an odd voice, rich and rolling, with an accent which could only be Orcadian.
“Did sir Abigail send you?” She nearly lost her voice in panic, fearing that sir Abigail had send for her. She had no idea what time it was, how long she had stood there, in the freezing water.
“No, you send for me.” He said, sincerely confused.
Just as she was.
“I didn’t send for nobody, please leave me alone!” She cried out, on the verge of tears. “I don’t know who you are, go away!”
“You cried seven tears into the sea..” The man, seemingly young in years insisted, giving her an odd look.
She stared back at him, not knowing what he was talking about. “What did you say?”
“You cried seven tears,” The man said again, a little less patient. She couldn’t see what he looked like in the dark. It was dark, the night had fully taken over the day, and if she hadn’t known that there actually was someone standing right in front of her she had just walked right past him.
“So you counted them or anything??” She spat out, clutching what was left of the t-shirt she had worn. She saw him, more or less, stare in confusion. His gaze then wandered, looking her up and down. She felt a blush rising and she bit her bottom lip. The last thing she had wanted was running into the arms of another horny man. One was already bad enough.
“You don’t know what happens when you shed seven tears into the Orcadian sea?” His voice was soft, and held a strange tone, almost as if he knew something she did not. He probably did, for she had no idea what he was talking about. In fact, she had difficulty understanding him at all, since his accent was so thick that it almost seemed that he was growling instead of talking.
“No, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You haven’t heard about Selkies?”
“What the fuck are Selkies??” She nearly cried out, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute as she was standing there all alone with this strange man, in the middle of the sea, completely surrounded by darkness. The island was cursed, she just knew it was. Every man who would ever set foot on this island became a horny greedy bastard.
“Selkies are seal people, they shed their skin to become human.” He explained, calmly, as if he was talking to a hysterical child. “Whenever an Orcadian woman, unmarried or married, sheds seven tears into the sea, a Selkie will come ashore, lay off his magical skin and seek ‘unlawful love’ with the woman who called him.”
He tilted his head at her, as if waiting for her reply. She stared at him dumbfounded, the first thing coming in mind that he was probably mentally handicapped or anything, because he stood here in the middle of the night, practically naked except for a skin around his waist, talking about fairytales. That was until she realized what he was talking about.
“You mean they had sex?” She blurted out, staring at him as if he had suddenly changed into a monster.
“Well I tried to put it nicely but..”
“So if someone cries seven tears into the ocean some sort of gigolo comes out at he has sex with her…?”
“Well, yes I don’t see…”
“Are you implying that you came here to have sex with me because I cried my goddamned eyes out??” She shrieked, her hands forming fists as she glared at him.
“You didn’t..?” He stammered, blinking at her in complete confusion.
“No I did not come here to have sex with anyone!” She took a step forward and started punching his chest in frustration. He caught her wrists easily, holding her away from himself while she tried to kick him. “I got practically raped back there, and now you come here and you want to have sex?” She kicked him in the gut, and smirked in hateful satisfaction as she saw him double over in pain, hearing him groan. She saw it as the perfect opportunity to run away, and she turned around on her heels running across the shore, away from the young man who called after her with a voice full of panic.
He followed her, she could hear his footsteps, the splashing of the water behind her. She screamed again, fear gripping her heart as she tried to outrun him with all her might.
He called after her again, warning her, but she paid no heed. For all she knew he could be fooling her, wishing to rape her just as that idiot teacher in the youth hostel. The water got deeper, the waves becoming higher as she tried to get away. Soon she fell over, diving into the water that came till her waist. Still she could hear him call after her, and she tried to swim away as fast as she could.
But panic soon gripped her heart as she was suddenly pulled under as if by an invisible hand, and she realised she had swam straight into a strong current. She fought with all her might, keeping her head up while she screamed. Her unwanted suitor became suddenly her valiant hero as he dove straight after her, grabbing her wrist, pulling her up above the waves so she could breath.
The waves were pulling her down, and she coughed as seawater got into her throat, but the young man held her hand with an iron grip as he began to swim back to shore, seemingly without effort while she kept struggling.
“Hold still, calm down.” She heard him say. “you won’t make it any easier if you keep fighting the waves.”
She wanted to shout something in his face, something like shut up, or go away, but she still felt the undertow pull at her legs so instead of letting go she grabbed his hand; letting him pull her into his embrace.
Safe from the water, but also in the hands of someone she did not know at all. It hadn’t stopped her in the past, after three beers and in the middle of the big city, but now she was alone on a beach and it didn’t make her very happy., it made her feel uncertain, remembering the hands of that vile man back at the hostel.
She should go back, perhaps convince some teachers that what sir Abigail did was wrong. But she did not have the courage, she didn’t want to go back.
Tears started to come again, pressing against the back of her eyes. A sob escaped her lips, a wave nearly knocking her off balance.
“Hey,” her saviour said softly, wiping away the tear which was rolling down her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
His voice was soft, sincere, and it only made her cry even louder. Tears were unstoppable, and she rested her head against his shoulder, not caring whether she did not know him at all. He only laid his arms around her tighter, laying his face in the nape of her neck as he let her cry for the moment.
“I don’t want to go back..!” She sobbed, feeling hysterical. Everything seemed better than returning, and if he had saved her, couldn’t he save her again.
“To where?” He asked, and she looked up, noticing that he had grey eyes. Beautiful, astounding grey eyes. He could be a valiant hero, she thought.
“To the youth hostel, there’s someone.. there’s someone.. I don’t want to see him,” He nodded, looking at her with worried eyes. He was truly worried, probably scared shitless too. She was acting stupid. She sniffed, wiping her eyes. She had to pull herself together, he was probably thinking he had saved some lunatic from the waves.
She was soaked, her curls plastered to her skull, her mascara leaving black traces down her cheeks. Her clothes wet through and through, or what was left of the shirt she was wearing.
“You don’t want to go back?’ He asked, he was just as soaked as she was, but he didn’t seemed bothered by the cold air. She shook her head, anywhere better than back there. She didn’t have the courage, not yet.
“No, I don’t want to go back.” She said softly, silently wondering whether she made a mistake or not.
“I have a little house, not far from here,” He said, releasing her from his embrace only to lay his arm around her shoulders in a protective way. “Nobody will find you there, you’ll be safe.”
“Do you promise you won’t do anything?”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought that he smiling as he said; “No, I won’t do anything if you don’t want to. I may be a selkie, but I am not a rapist, although many a folk think I am…”
She ignored the fact that he had called himself a selkie again, letting him guide her away, across the beach to somewhere where she would be safe.
She felt safe, with his hand on her shoulder in a protective way. He meant her no harm, she could feel it. It calmed her down, stopping the tears from flooding. He didn’t mean her any harm, Leod, he had said his name was Leod.
She could trust Leod, it sounded better than Alan…
Tbc…