The Selkie And The Sea Witch

Author's Note:

For anyone unfamiliar, selkie are a race of faery beings from the british isles who have the ability to appear human on land, but transform into a seal in the waters by wearing their seal skin. On land, they remove that skin and many tales of selkies revolve around humans finding their skin and hiding it away so that the selkie is forced to stay on land with them, often wedding them and having children. In this story, the selkie has other ideas.

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She ran as fast as she could toward the shore. It wasn't very fast- she was hurting, the feeling of an iron band around her throat made it hard to breathe, and the ground cut the tender skin of her feet with every step. Still, she ran and hoped it was fast enough. He had left after supper, locking her in, and claiming he'd return after a few drinks at the pub. He leered as he said it, and she shuddered with remembered horror at the thought of that leer.

It hadn't taken her long to break the bonds he had put on her, and even less time to break open the back door of that squalid little cottage. She was no dainty thing, her muscles made strong by years of swimming. Her form was diminished now, as her family had starved her to force her compliance with this farce, but her muscle was not yet gone. She hoped it would be enough. It had to be enough.

It was dark in these woods, but she didn't need to see to know where the shore was. The sea was her home, she could smell the salt on the wind, hear the rush of the waves, feel the spray in the air even if they were miles away. But she didn't even need her preternatural senses to feel the ocean now. It was near, very, very near. She put on a further burst of speed, her tired limbs trembling, and broke from the tree cover.

She stood at the top of a path that wound among the dunes. To her right, just visible, she saw the cool blue lights of a little cottage nestled amidst the salt-grass and twisted trees that covered the dunes. That was her destination. She made for it, stumbling more now as she fought to keep her balance on the shifting sands, her aching body beginning to give out. It felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes until she fumbled to a halt outside the cottage door. In the dim light of the rising moon it looked foreboding.

She remembered all the stories she had been told, all the lessons drilled into her as a child. Magic has a price, a terrible price. Never seek it out. Never go to the house among the dunes, where the land and shore meet. It will only end in blood and pain. Never go to her, no matter the peril. Never bargain with the sea witch.

She squared her shoulders. Her family had placed her in an untenable situation. Her future held nothing but pain and blood anyways. She raised her fist and with what felt like the last of her strength, rapped firmly on the cottage door.

After a long, silent moment, she heard footsteps approaching the door from inside. She took a step back and knelt, a supplicant. Almost holding her breath, she watched the door open.

There, back-lit by the eerie blue lights within the cabin, was the sea witch. Her face was shadowed and her silhouette seemed to stretch up into the night sky for fathoms. Then, she stepped forward and the light from the moon fell on her face. She was beautiful. Not the obvious beauty of the sirens, or the pale freshness of mortal maidens, or even the enchanting loveliness of the fae. Her hair was dark and long, winding loosely about her frame. Her eyes, catching the light of the moon, were pools of dark sapphire. Her skin was the paleness of a drowned man, tinged ever so slightly with the green of the waters. She was wiry and strong, with sinews cording her arms; her hands long-fingered and deft as they cast a small ball of white light, like that of a deep-sea fish, into the air. She was the sea, fathomless, strong, ever-changing, yet unchanging. Not human, not selkie, not siren, not fae. Something uniquely her own, breathtaking as she towered over her supplicant.

Then she spoke, breaking the moment.

"What are you doing here? Don't you know little selkie girls aren't supposed to come here?" Her voice was dry, the tone a touch raspy and deeper than the selkie had expected. It caught her for a moment, the ordinariness of that voice. Then she took in the question and tried to answer.

Crawling forward a few steps, she gazed up at the witch, pleading with her eyes for understanding. Touching her throat, then lips, and shaking her head she tried to indicate the source of her first problem. To keep her silent, her family had rendered her mute. She could not bargain with the witch to solve her greater problem unless she had her voice back.

As she had moved forward the witch had seemed briefly startled, but then as she gestured, the witch raised an eyebrow.

"I think this is a first, to have someone come here without a voice, rather than seeking to trade one away as a foolish siren did many years ago. I see the issue. Stand up."

The selkie did so. She was not a tall woman, and even with both of them standing the witch still overshadowed her. She did not have to reach her hand up far to place it at the selkie's temple.

Suddenly, the selkie heard a voice in her mind.

Is this what you wish to bargain for, little selkie? The use of your voice? I see from the spell on you that this was done by the hands of your kin and not one of my ilk. I can cure this but there is a price.

After a moment of disorientation the selkie hesitantly thought her answer, hoping the witch could hear.

No, or rather, not mainly. My family took away my voice, it is true, but I can live without it, if I can bargain with you like this.

Even though she did not speak aloud, the selkie still paused for a breath, trying to draw up the rest of her courage. Before she could respond, she saw the witch turn a grim look of understanding down on her.

Your skin then.

It was not a question, but the selkie answered anyways.

Yes, my family stripped me of my voice, starved me, and set me adrift on the shore, leaving my skin for a human man to find. They wish me to have children, to bear more selkies to this man. I do not want this. I have never wanted this. To be barred from the sea for years while I bear and nurse, and then to have the waves take me and my children back to the family that decided the existence of future selkies mattered more than the lives of those already here. I will not see that future come to pass. I wish to bargain with you for my skin and my freedom. I know your prices are steep, but I will pay them. I wish my freedom more than anything else.

There was silence for a moment, a curious silence that echoed in the selkie's mind as well as in her ears.

I see.

The witch's voice was quiet, even inside her mind, but she could hear the finality of that statement. Then, in a lighter tone,

What is your name?

She was startled, but answered.

Roisin.

"Well then Roisin," the witch said. "I am Marrow, come inside and we shall enact our bargain."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Roisin stared into the cup of tea before her. Whatever she had expected of the sea witch's cottage, it was nothing like what she found inside. Apart from the touches of the deep ocean, present in the shells on the mantle, the kelp drying in the rafters, the blue glass that enclosed the lights to give the place the look of water, it was a very ordinary seeming cottage.

There appeared to be three rooms. The main room where she currently sat held the kitchen, hearth, a table, and an area for sitting and eating. She could also see a door leading below to what she assumed was a cellar. Above this space was a loft, where she had seen a glimpse of a bed and wardrobe. The third room, also on the main floor, she had not seen inside. But, she thought, it is likely to be the witch- Marrow's- work room. Magic took ingredients, she knew that. But with them all hidden behind that door, a small fire in the hearth taking the chill off the air, and Marrow moving deftly around the hearth finishing making her own cup of tea, this cottage could have almost belonged to anyone.

The contrast between this comfortable and familiar abode with its domestic inhabitant, and the otherworldly beauty Roisin had met outside both relived and unsettled her. A slight shiver ran up her spine as Marrow turned back towards her, but it was not quite a shiver of fear.

The witch sat down across from Roisin at the small table. "Drink" she said, her voice brisk. "You need the restorative in there, otherwise you're going to collapse before we can make this bargain." Roisin grimaced, but obeyed. She didn't like being reminded of her weakness, but truly her muscles ached and she could barely keep her eyes open. For a few moments they drank their tea in silence. Roisin kept her eyes down, but she could feel Marrow watching her.

It wasn't a threat, wasn't a look of contempt or dismissal. No, it was just the simple weight of the sea witch's quiet, calm gaze that felt heavy on Roisin's skin. She turned her thoughts back to a contemplation of her tea. The flavors were subtle, she thought they might have been made from the thistle blooms that grew near the shore, some mint, perhaps some dried kelp. There was the flavor of the ocean mixing with the flavors of the shore. It was soothing her, and she felt her limbs cease trembling. It even felt easier to breathe, the iron band of her family's spell no longer choking her, but easing into the barest touch, like a scarf settled around her neck. She could tell she couldn't speak- not yet- but the pressure had eased.

Almost without realizing it she had reached the bottom of her cup. Setting the empty mug down, she lifted her gaze to finally meet Marrow's eyes. The sea witch's lips quirked into a small smile. "Feeling more yourself?" she asked and Roisin gave a light nod, trying to convey her thanks.

Marrow collected both tea cups and returned them to the basin for a later wash. Then she sat back down across from Roisin, and the air felt charged.

It was time to bargain.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

"Roisin, selkie of the northern sea, you have come to me for aid. You seek your freedom: from the man who holds your skin, the bonds of the shore, and the threats of your family." She paused and Roisin nodded. Marrow continued. "Are you willing to pay my price? It will not be an easy one, the magic will demand much from you for such a large request." Roisin nodded again. She almost didn't care what the price was, she needed to be free, to have her skin, to be allowed beneath the waves and on land with no fear of captivity.

Marrow's eyes seemed to darken, she stood and placed her hand atop Roisin's head. Slowly, she felt Roisin's hair, smoothed over the skin of her face, touching her eyelids as they fluttered, pausing briefly on her lips. Finally the hand came to rest on her throat.

The sea witch's voice was quieter now as she spoke. "Then here is the price. For your freedom from this man and your family, for your voice and your skin, for the power to resist the bonds they seek to bind you with, you must instead willingly submit to the bonds of another. For one year, you must remain mine, obedient to my desires. I will not bar you from land or sea, but you must remain with me for the fullness of this year, returning to my side each night." Her hand tightened just a fraction around Roisin's throat.

"For staying with me, I will restore to you your voice, and it will slowly return each day you honor this bargain. For meeting my desires, I will give you the desire of your heart, your skin returned to you wholly and freely. As long as you remain faithful to this bargain, your skin can never be taken from you by another. And, should you be willing and generous with your heart, not fighting the bonds of this bargain, you will receive my patronage and protection, which shall safeguard you and your freedom for the rest of your days.

"Roisin, selkie of the northern sea, do you accept this bargain?"

For a moment, Roisin could not breathe, this was not what she had ever thought, not what she had expected, but she didn't need to breathe to answer. Staring into Marrow's eyes, she clasped the wrist locked around her throat and thought

Yes.

Marrow released her slowly, almost caressingly. "Then, let us go down into the cellar, and we shall begin."

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The cellar was a dream. Roisin descended a ladder and found herself knee deep in sea water. She could see the moonlight, feel a sandbar beneath her feet. Turning she saw a small arched hut made out of driftwood. Somehow, coming down the ladder had transported her out here, into the waves, on a sandbar so far out, that when she peered back she could barely see the shore. The water was welcome, chilly as it was. She gazed in wonder around her and then finally, she saw Marrow.

In the water, the witch had transformed. She seemed even taller than before, her hair falling fuller around her frame. No, that wasn't hair. As Roisin watched, tentacles like those of an octopus seemed to grow from Marrow's waist. Like the fish tail of the sirens, she was half woman and half ocean. Unlike the sirens, she radiated power. She possessed more tentacles than an octopus, and they seemed of different thicknesses and lengths, some the size of a human arm, others thick and long, more like the limbs of a tree, or the spine of a whale carcass on the ocean floor.

Roisin caught her breath. She didn't know what she was feeling, but it wasn't fear.

Suddenly a tentacle snaked around her waist, pulling her lightly off her feet and inexorably towards Marrow. It lifted her, and then Marrow's lips found hers.

The kiss was sharp, deep and biting. It was nothing like the slobbering menace of her 'husband's' kiss. Instead it was as if Marrow was drinking her down, pour her own soul back into Roisin with the lash of her tongue against the roof of Roisin's mouth.

Other limbs began to undress her, she realized, still caught within the kiss. Marrow's own clothing seemed to have melted away, Roisin discovered as her hands almost involuntarily closed around a smooth waist, lifted up just slightly to touch round heavy breasts. Her hands were seized then and pulled above her head, suspended in the salt air. She didn't even want to struggle. If this was what Marrow desired, Roisin found she was more than willing to oblige.

With her clothing gone, Marrow moved them deeper into the waves. Roisin hardly ever went this deep in the waters without her skin, but she didn't protest. When the waves began to lap at her collarbone, Marrow made her next move. Still pinning Roisin in place with her tentacles, she began to kiss down Roisin's body, biting at her neck with sharp teeth, leaving marks that stung in the salt. Her head dipped below the waves and a long thin tongue dipped into Roisin's navel, before moving downwards.

Roisin was gasping now, still held to silence otherwise she would have moaned aloud in anticipation. As if hearing her frantic exhalations, another tentacle came forward and teased at her mouth, holding it shut, then kissing her with its suckers. Like an eel, it pressed at the seam of her lips. She opened instantly and let it in, tasting the salt water as it filled her mouth, pushing just a little down her throat.

Marrow's head reemerged from the water, her eyes fixed on Roisin's face, her smile hungry. Suddenly, Roisin felt another tentacle caress her limbs, slipping around and around her thighs, rubbing at the pearl between them. She jerked, caught off balance by the surge of lust running through her, unable to even fully exhale with her mouth still full of the tentacle. "No little selkie" Marrow nearly purred, "do not recoil from me." Her hands cupped Roisin's breasts, those long, strong fingers stroking Roisin's pebbled nipples making her ache even more with the heat and intensity of her touch. She pinched one, and Roisin tried to cry out, but could not, tried to move but was held still. The tentacle between her legs moved to tease at her opening, one of those marvelous hands moving beneath the waters to toy with Roisin's abandoned pearl. Roisin felt her body begin to shake and her vision start to darken as the sea witch worked her body smoothly, the tentacle in her mouth beginning to take the pleasure of her throat, sucking her close around it, releasing her only to retreat briefly before advancing once more, beginning to flow with a black ink that tasted like tears, like home, like salt and brine and everything Roisin had ever loved.

Under the waters, the tentacle curled slowly inside her. She could feel every inch of it pressing in, as it too stopped to let its suckers affix to her inner walls, before releasing and surging ever forward. It curled within her, making her feel every inch of it, every touch. Other tentacles began to cover her body, holding her ever more tightly, curling, stroking, caressing, bruising, all in time with the motion of that first tentacle. No, with the motion of Marrow's fingers.

The sea witch held her gaze, those teeth more pointed, those eyes more blue that Roisin had seen before. In the darkness she seemed to glow and grow taller, consuming more and more of Roisin's vision till she could see nothing else.

Her body pulled tight, her inner walls spasmed. The chill of the ocean could not touch her she was so afire. Still Marrow held her at the peak, making her writhe, making her wish she could scream. But she was silent, she was held fast, she was full, so full of Marrow. She was consumed, drowning in beauty and magic and those long, clever fingers till she couldn't stand it.

Her eyes filled with tears as she was overwhelmed, her body close to giving out from the excess, until blessedly Marrow's voice called to her. "Roisin" she whispered, her tongue licking over Roisin's ear, "come."

And Roisin did.