Rúna clutches Fiadh's hand in her own as they navigate the narrow deer trail to her small hut. Her heart hammers in her chest as her mind unearths old memories. Smile lines. Wrinkled and liver-spotted hands. Blue eyes and white hair.
"I heard a story once," she says. She could feel Fiadh's questioning eyes on her as they enter Rúna's cozy living space.
Rúna immediately sets to restocking her pack with tinder, more dried meat and fruit, cheese, an extra bedroll. She bustles while she talks. Fiadh stands near the door and watches her curiously.
"My great grandmother, I-well, I don't remember much about her, only that she was kind to me. Kinder than the rest. When I was small and felt sad, she'd pull me into her lap and say, 'Little pup, there's a whole world out there. You and me, we belong to the sea.'"
Rúna whirls to face Fiadh again, heart full to bursting, feeling a little wild, a little crazy.
"I didn't understand what it meant at the time. When she passed, I asked my grandmother and she looked scared and then sad and then angry. She told me never to speak of it again. Never to even think of it.
I had felt so shamed for even asking, I didn't. Until...well, until now. I just remembered. I wonder...there are stories, right?"
There was a little crinkle between Fiadh's eyebrows as if she couldn't quite tell where Rúna was going with this. "There are lots of stories. Which sort are you speaking about?"
Rúna squares her shoulders, despite feeling like she was scaling a cliff made of crumbling shale. "Selkie stories. Sea fae who landed never to leave for one reason or another."
Rúna watches Fiadh wince and then swallow. "Yes," she said lowly. "There are lots of those. Most end very sadly."
Rúna softens then.
"I'm sorry. I just- if we could find a way for me to come with you, then things might be...less complicated," she finishes weakly.
"Are you saying you think your great-grandmother might have been a selkie?"
Rúna scrunches her eyes closed, her face feeling warm. "I guess? When you say it out loud, it sounds silly."
When she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, Rúna opens her eyes. Fiadh's gaze is gentle.
"It's not silly. If she was and we can find her seal coat, there's a possibility that you could come with me and we could split our time between land and sea."
Rúna feels a different sort of warmth bloom in her chest with Fiadh's support. "If we can't, what's our backup plan?"
Fiadh just smiles. "We find a new place away from here near the shore and build a home. I'll split my time between the ocean and time with you, like we always have."
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
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Fiadh finds herself traipsing across the countryside again. This time in pursuit of something she wants more than anything, a way to share a life with Rúna.
They hike for days, but Fiadh finds she didn't mind when she gets to curl up with Rúna every night and wake up with her every morning. Rúna keeps them close to the shore so that when Fiadh feels the urge to return to the sea, she can. When that happens, Rúna finds a sheltered space to stop for the night and Fiadh disappears for a day or two into the ocean. Rúna would rest and wait.
Donning her seal coat and skipping through the waves, Fiadh allows herself to be pulled out to sea by the undertow. While gone, she hunts and restocks their supply of fresh fish. When she returns to shore, she slips out of her seal coat and steps gingerly toward where Rúna has made camp. They make love each time she returns. Rúna touches her like she'd been afraid Fiadh wouldn't come back, like she could somehow paint her love into Fiadh's skin with her hands and her lips. She whispers Fiadh's name against her skin like a prayer.
When they are spent, Fiadh tangles her fingers in Rúna's hair, kisses her gently and says, "This is enough. This is everything, grādh."
Their time goes on like this for days, weeks. Sometimes they travel. Sometimes they stay in one spot for several days. All the while, navigating a winding path toward the small fishing village Rúna grew up in.
Fiadh doesn't know what they'll find there. She is certain, however, that whether or not they find a seal coat for Rúna, she will not leave her side.
****
grādh - Irish Gaelic, which means love. Dates back to 1645.
Download the full ebook here: The Selkie and Her Knight