You Can Still Catch the Tide - Reverse Big Bang fic, Linkara/Jaeris
Title: You Can Still Catch the Tide
Rating: R for sexual content.
Word Count: 5,067 (aprox.)
Characters: Linkara, Jaeris, Margaret, Harvey Finevoice, SoI, Jaeris’s Wife.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, mean no disrespect, etc.
Warnings: Dubcon, discussion of noncon, discussion of human sacrifice, way too many references to ballads.
Summary: A rash decision leads to Linkara accidentally destroying a selkie’s sealskin, and now Jaeris is bound to him forever.
A/N: Written for the Reverse Big Bang, a fill for prompt #14. The prompt was a picture of Jaeris shedding his sealskin, and a request for a story about Jaeris as a selkie. Title comes from a song by one of my favorite artists, Seanan McGuire. There are shades of the original Little Mermaid in here. I had a lot of trouble starting this story, many false beginnings, and the ending gave me writer’s block. I was down to the wire and I’m not entirely satisfied with the ending, to be honest. Overall I like what I have, though, the story I put together.
Art: [To be posted later]
Every day with good weather, Linkara puts on his hat and jacket, walks down the path to the sea, and sets sail on his fishing boat. And every night he returns, sometimes smiling with nets full of fish; sometimes frowning with empty nets.
This is how it has been, and how it shall always be, as far as Margaret is concerned.
One night, however, Linkara does not return. The sky darkens and Margaret becomes afraid. She lights the fire and cooks dinner as best she can, with her small hands, and tries not to think of sinking ships and sea monsters swallowing Linkara’s fishing boat whole.
Harvey arrives after Margaret has finished her supper. He used to go to sea as well, hunting whales, but his leg was crushed and a chill has sunk into his bones, so he works on the land now and walks with a cane. He tells her that there was a fire down at the docks, and Linkara helped to put out the blaze; that’s why he’s late coming home. Linkara sent word, via Harvey, that he’s on his way, and that Margaret should get some sleep.
Harvey sings to Margaret and tucks her in, and Margaret sleeps peacefully, with no nightmares of sea monsters or her parents.
~*~
The man doesn’t have difficulty walking, but his gait is unusual. He moves his head and shoulders as he walks, bobbing them forward.
Linkara is covered in soot and his clothes reek of smoke. His jacket was ruined as he tried to smother the flames. He’d thought, scrambling on the beach in the dark, frantic for something to fight the fire with, that it had been fortune, finding a huge black damp blanket to throw over the fire consuming the docked boats.
It’s only just sinking in for him, how wrong he’d been. Why the strange man had screamed so inhumanly when the “blanket” burned.
“There’s no way for you to … get another one?” Linkara asks, as they walk up the dark path.
The man says nothing.
Linkara takes that as a ‘no.’
“Why are you following me?”
“I have to,” grits the man, the first words he’s spoken in nearly an hour.
Linkara remembers the ballads Harvey sings at the tavern, about men who’d steal the skins of selkie women and force into marriage. He shudders at the thought. “You have no choice?”
The man growls, a sound like territorial seals about to fight, and Linkara stops talking.
~*~
When Margaret wakes, there’s a stranger in the house. He’s a pale man with long golden hair, longer than any hair Margaret has seen a man with before. He reminds her of the pictures in a book of fairy tales Linkara gave her last summer, illustrations of a princess with hair so long it spiraled out of a high stone tower.
Linkara tells her that he found a wrecked ship today while he was fishing, and Jaeris was on it, barely alive. Since he has nowhere to call home, he’ll be living with them now for the foreseeable future.
the man’s name is Jaeris, an
Margaret accepts this readily. After breakfast, Margaret shyly asks if she can braid Jaeris’s hair.
He stares at her in shock. “I don’t … understand,” he says carefully, as if words are difficult.
“I’ll show you!” Margaret gets her basket of ribbons and sits beside Jaeris, braiding his long blond hair into several segments.
Linkara coughs. “I have to go down to the harbor, to help with the rebuilding. Jaeris, would you come with me?”
Jaeris shoots him a look of disgust and stands up, crossing his arms. “Yes,” he spits.
“Can I come too?” Margaret asks.
“No, Margaret. It’s mostly heavy lifting, too heavy for you. Yet,” Linkara adds as Margaret crosses her arms and opens her mouth to argue. “Soon you’ll be stronger than I am, I know. Why don’t you chop up some wood today, build up those muscles?”
Margaret beams and nods eagerly, heading outside for the woodpile.
~*~
“Is that what I’m to be? A pet for yer whelp?” Jaeris spits, pulling the ribbons from his hair as they walk back to the harbor.
“That was not my intention!” Linkara snaps back, stooping to collect the ribbons Jaeris is tossing aside. “Margaret is a very lonely girl, and there are few other children in the village for her to play with. She thinks your hair is pretty, what’s the harm in that?”
Jaeris glowers. “I shouldn’t be lookin’ like this at all. If ya hadn’t burnt my skin up, I’d be far away by now.”
Linkara can’t argue against that, so he stays silent.
Rebuilding is long, hard work. Portions of the docks burnt away, and several boats sank before the fire was stifled. Linkara and Jaeris work with the rest of the villagers to haul burnt timbers from the water and begin building a new deck with newly hewn beams. There’s no time to chat: the work consumes them. Linkara is grateful for this distraction. He can only hope that Jaeris is as well. The other villagers accept Linkara’s story of finding Jaeris on a wreck out at sea, a lost man with few memories. Wrecks are common enough, and Linkara brought a daughter back from the sea once, a few years ago. Bringing a man back from the sea is hardly more surprising.
Towards the end of the day, Jaeris walks to the end of the beach, to an outcropping of rocks. Linkara watches him crawl onto them, to a group of dark shapes that can only be seals.
The villagers leave for their homes, proud of the work they accomplished. A few slap Linkara on the back in thanks for his aid, invite him to dinner at their homes when he likes. Linkara, in turn offers them dinner at his house in winter, to stave off the loneliness of those dark days. Companionship and tales keep people alive in winter just as much as food.
Linkara shakes his head and walks towards the rocks. The seals have left, but for one. By the time he gets close enough to call out, the last seal is leaving, swimming away, and Jaeris is huddled on the rocks, face bloodless.
Linkara sits on the rocks, at what he hopes is a respectful distance, at least five or six feet between them.
“The colony is migratin’ south.” Jaeris says softly. “They won’t be back until next year.”
Linkara blinks. A year, without his family …
“Did they know of anything that could be done?” he asks.
Jaeris doesn’t reply.
Linkara sighs, the urge to put a hand on the selkie’s shoulder overwhelming. He resists, though, knowing that Jaeris would not appreciate the gesture.
“We should head for my home. It’s getting late, and Margaret will worry.”
~*~
Jaeris returns, much to Margaret’s delight. She proudly shows off the woodpile she constructed during the day, and flexes her tiny muscles. Linkara praises her and helps with cooking dinner. Jaeris doesn’t speak much at all during dinner, but Margaret is accustomed to seafaring men with few words to spare, and bides her time.
That night, Margaret drifts in and out of sleep, tossing and turning up in the loft where her mattress and blankets are. She wakes from a nonsense dream to sounds below, and, sleep still clinging to her, does not stir.
“What are you doing?” Linkara’s voice hisses in the darkness.
“I thought … I …” Jaeris sounds confused.
Margaret’s ears strain.
“For God’s sake! I don’t … you have no choice, being here. I’m not going to take more from you.” Margaret has never heard shame in Linkara’s voice, until now. It sounds wrong to her.
“Why not?” Margaret almost misses this: Jaeris’ voice is so quiet.
Linkara makes a kind of strangled sound; then takes a deep breath. “Go back to bed. Your bed.”
There’s a soft shuffle of feet over the floorboards, and then silence.
Margaret chews a lock of her hair, trying to figure out what just happened. She decides that it’s probably none of her business, and goes back to sleep.
~*~
Winter comes, and hits hard. The village is buried in snow. Some houses are nothing but roofs and chimneys sticking up out of snowdrifts. Ropes are strung between houses to guide people in the night, and paths are dug every few days.
Mostly, people stay inside, keeping their fires going, slowly eating away their winter stores.
Linkara takes Margaret out to learn how to hunt, to snare the skinny rabbits; even to shoot a deer once. They drag it back to the house and invite some neighbors for a feast. The families bring canned vegetables and small helpings of bread to make it a proper meal. Harvey brings a jar of jam and a jug of something Margaret isn’t allowed to drink. Jaeris stirs the soup and avoids eye contact as much as possible.
After dinner, everyone lounges around the table and fire, sharing stories. This goes late into the night, with children falling asleep on their parents’ laps, and the stories changing from comic to tragic to frightening to romantic.
Linkara tells the story of a brave warrior who donned a mask to conceal his identity and save villagers from a tyrannical ruler, taking the symbol of a bat as his calling card.
Harvey sings the ballad of Tam Lin. Margaret isn’t quite sure what “maidenhead” means, but from the way the adults glance at each other, she suspects it has something to do with how babies are made. She likes the story, all about the brave girl who wrestles with the magic of the Faerie Queen herself to save her love.
After Harvey, Jaeris raises his head and then his hand. “May I go next?” he asks.
The neighbors stare. Most of them have never heard Jaeris speak before.
“Of course, Jaeris,” Linkara says, cautiously.
Jaeris clears his throat and straightens up. Then he begins to sing.
There are no words in his song, syllables perhaps, but no words any of the people in the room recognize. Margaret clings to Linkara, because she can feel the crash and fall of the waves, in her bones, if not on her skin. Linkara holds her tightly, because he can feel it too.
By the end of the song, Harvey is crying, as are a few of their neighbors, though they can’t quite understand why. The song was as mournful as it was full of life, the thrum of the sea, the force of nature itself.
Margaret sees Jaeris and Linkara looking at each other, and doesn’t quite understand what that means.
Once the neighbors have left for their own homes, holding lanterns and thanking Linkara for his hospitality, Margaret is so tired she has to be carried up the ladder by Linkara to her loft.
“Linkara, what’s ‘maidenhead’ mean?” Margaret asks, before she forgets.
Even in the dim light of the house, Linkara turns red. “I’ll, um, tell you when you’ve grown up a bit more,” he says.
Margaret frowns. That’s Linkara’s answer to a lot of interesting questions. “Jaeris’ song was really pretty,” she ventures as Linkara tucks her in.
“Yes, yes it was,” Linkara agrees, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight, Margaret. Sleep well.”
Margaret yawns, and dreams of rescuing a knight called Tam Lin with Jaeris’ face.
~*~
One night it’s so cold that Linkara is shivering, Jaeris is shivering, and only Margaret is fine, high up in the house, bundled under all her blankets and near the chimney.
Jaeris crawls closer, and closer, and finally Linkara lifts his blankets and Jaeris snuggles underneath.
There’s a pause, words unsaid that hang in the air. Jaeris is trembling and it’s not from the cold. He flinches when Linkara reaches over and puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, their bodies pressed against each other.
Jaeris, after a while, reaches down, fingers shaking so badly that at first Linkara can’t even understand what he’s trying to do. Then he shakes his head, and pulls Jaeris’ hands away.
“I don’t understand,” Jaeris whispers, over and over. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.” His voice cracks.
“I don’t want you to do that stuff. I trapped you here. You have to stay with me. You have no choice. But I won’t force you to do … any of that.”
Jaeris is silent, and then falls asleep, tangled with Linkara.
The next night, they cuddle together from the start. Jaeris is quiet for a long time, so long that Linkara thinks he might be asleep.
“What if I want it?” Jaeris asks. “Do you … are you …”
Linkara feels his face burning. This can’t be happening. He isn’t having this conversation. “I …”
“I seen you, starin’ at me.” Jaeris purrs. “You like to look.”
Linkara looks away. “No. No, it’s … wrong … you can’t …”
“I want to.” Jaeris slides a hand up underneath Linkara’s shirt, and it feels … good. Linkara wants more.
“We … we have to … be quiet …” Linkara pants as Jaeris reaches low again. “Margaret …”
“I can think of a way to keep myself quiet,” Jaeris’ head vanishes under the blankets.
Linkara bites his hand to keep from crying out.
~*~
There are more nights with neighbors. Sometimes in Linkara’s home, sometimes in Harvey’s, sometimes at another home. The fresh meat dwindles: someone kills their worst-laying hen and shares the stew with a small group. The deer and rabbits have gone, or learned to avoid snares. Margaret is staring to get sick of salted fish. Harvey’s jams become fewer and farther between, and stop altogether.
The stories become darker, as people dig deeper into their memories. A man tells of a storm from his youth that shattered all the ships in the harbor. A woman joins with Harvey and sings the Tale of Two Sisters, which haunts Margaret for days, the bone fiddle featuring in many of her nightmares for weeks to come.
Finally, Margaret works up the courage to tell a story herself. It’s silly and meandering, but there’s truths hidden in it, about what happened to her and her parents and Linkara saving her. Linkara hugs her tightly afterwards, tears on his cheeks, and Margaret hugs him back. They don’t need words in that moment.
Jaeris tells the story of the selkies, beautiful women who dance on the beach and are forced to become wives to fishermen who steal their sealskins. Harvey stares at him during the story, and then at Linkara.
Afterwards, while they think Margaret is asleep by the fire, Harvey talks to Linkara in hushed tones.
“It’s not my place to judge …” Harvey whispers.
“It’s not my fault!” Linkara hisses back. “It was an accident, and now there’s nothing I can do.”
Harvey sighs. “You might have told me. There’s tales, I could … help, perhaps. In the spring, I’ll ask my friends along the coastline.”
Unbeknownst to them all, Jaeris isn’t asleep either. He’s listening to every word.
~*~
The snows melt, and life returns to the fields and forests once more. Linkara goes out on his boat every day, when the weather is good, returns with nets laden with fish. Margaret can chop a lot more wood this year, and hunt on her own at last. Mostly, Jaeris walks with Linkara to the beach, and waits, watching the sea.
One day, Margaret walks with them. She and Jaeris wait on the beach while Linkara’s ship gets smaller and smaller, finally vanishing over the horizon.
They linger on the shore, without much to do for the rest of the day. Margaret plays in the surf, collects shells and rocks in a pile, and pretend-fights at invisible monsters with driftwood sticks.
Jaeris sits on the rocks, staring out to sea.
Eventually, Margaret tires and sits beside him. “Linkara won’t be back for a while,” she says. She used to sit and wait for his ship all day, sick with worry, but she’s older now and knows better.
“Not watchin’ for him,” Jaeris growls.
“What for, then?” Margaret asks, playing with a few shells.
“My wife.” Jaeris says.
“You have a wife?” Margaret asks, shocked.
“Had.” Jaeris stares out to sea meaningfully.
“Oh,” Margaret nods in comprehension. “My parents drowned at sea too. There was a big storm, and they were on the deck of the ship, trying to do an evil ritual. They got washed overboard. So did I. Linkara pulled me out of the water and saved me.” Margaret touches the scar on her neck.
Jaeris stares at her, eyes wide. “I … my wife ain’t … she’s not …”
“She’s lost at sea, then?” Margaret frowns. “That’s almost worse. You don’t know if she’s washed overboard or still alive somewhere.” Margaret has a thought, “Maybe someone like Linkara saved her too!”
“Not likely,” Jaeris growls.
Margaret shrugs. “It’s nicer to think that. At least then you can pretend she’s happy somewhere.” Margaret has a sudden, uncomfortable thought. “Are you happy here, Jaeris?”
Jaeris looks like he just stubbed his toe in the door. “I … Margaret … that’s …”
Margaret looks down at her feet. “Sorry. That was stupid.”
“No, it … I’m … you’re alright, Margaret.” Jaeris sighs heavily. “I miss her. I miss her so, so much. It’s an … ache. I can’t describe it. And I’ll never see her again.”
Margaret chews her lip, trying to think of what adults do in situations like this. She steps closer to Jaeris and wraps her arms around his waist, the closest she can get to hugging him.
After a moment, Jaeris ruffles her hair. “Thank you, Margaret.”
That night, Margaret dreams of the sea coming up the path, a roar of sound and fury, swallowing their house whole.
~*~
Harvey returns from his journey, weary, his limp worse than before.
He brings with him a knife, curved slightly and carved with sigils, wrapped in old cloth. When Linkara visits his home, Harvey sets the knife on the table.
“There’s your ‘cure,’” Harvey spits. “I found one, one tale, of a sea witch who could change the children of the ocean to landwalkers, and back again. If they became trapped, they were to wield this knife and take the lifeblood of a land dweller, and when that blood spilled upon their feet, they would return to their true form.”
Harvey takes a long drink from a hipflask and offers it to Linkara. Linkara shakes his head.
“Do you dare tell him?” Harvey asks as Linkara examines the knife with a steady hand. “Would you trust him with Margaret, after telling him about this?”
And of course, Linkara wouldn’t. He would worry every day he went out to sea, worry that he’d return to find Margaret’s lifeless body on the shore and Jaeris gone forever.
“Why bring it here?” Linkara asks, setting the knife down and wrapping it again.
“So you could bury it. So no one else could ever find it. Don’t you dare tell me where you hide it, either.” Harvey cautions. “I’d tell, someday. It’s a story, I have to keep stories alive.”
Linkara takes the knife and buries it.
He waits for three weeks, going through denial, frustration, anguish, and finally, arrives at a decision.
He invites Jaeris on a walk one evening, after dinner. Margaret is chopping wood again, a final chore before bedtime.
Linkara tells Jaeris that Harvey went up the coast, to find out if there are any tales of selkies being able to return to the sea after losing their skin. Then he tells him the only story he found, about the knife and the sea witch.
Jaeris says nothing for a long time. He sits on a fallen tree and stares at the ground.
“I have a proposition for you,” Linkara says softly.
Jaeris stares up at him, eyes shining with desperate need, rekindled after being quenched forever.
“Wait until Margaret is grown. Until she can live by herself. Say … seven years? Then, if you still want to, I’ll go with you to the beach, with the knife and you can … take my blood.”
Jaeris’ eyes widen.
Linkara forgets how to breathe.
Jaeris stands up, slowly, still struggling with human movements, even now. “Seven years?”
“Yes.” Linkara exhales.
“Deal.” Jaeris sticks out his hand, and Linkara shakes it.
~*~
Jaeris dreams of the sea often. Swimming alongside his wife, exploring new coasts and braving storms.
Tonight is the first night he dreams of being human-shaped and in the sea.
He is dragging Margaret with him, her skirt soaked with surf, weighing her down. It is raining, and Margaret is crying.
Jaeris is holding a knife in one hand, and Margaret’s hair in the other.
“Let her go!” Linkara is holding a spear - a huge, deadly thing Harvey carried to hunt whales with once upon a time.
“Not until I have what’s mine!” Jaeris snarls.
“No!” Linkara looks half-mad with desperation. “You can’t!”
“I can’t?” Jaeris stares at Linkara. “You stole her from the sea!” he screams to be heard over the wind. “Just like you stole me!”
“Please, Jaeris!” Linkara tosses the spear away, holds up his hands. “Take me instead! Take my blood! Just let her go!”
“It can’t be yours, it has to be hers!” Jaeris presses the knife to Margaret’s throat. “The blood of an innocent!”
Margaret is sobbing about her parents, the family that raised her so sheltered and alone, to keep her “pure” so they could sacrifice her to their god who sleeps beneath the waves.
Jaeris wakes, face wet with tears.
It takes him a long time to fall back to sleep.
~*~
The dynamic has changed between them. For a long time, Jaeris doesn’t sleep with Linkara anymore, and Linkara assumes he never will again.
Then, after a few months, Jaeris crawls in beside him, as he did in the winter.
“Do you still want me?” Jaeris asks, tracing a hand along Linkara’s neck.
“I don’t … I don’t know …” This is sick, wrong, Jaeris is going to kill him in less than seven years, and he’s here now, taunting him …
“Nothin’s changed.” Jaeris whispers.
“Everything has changed.”
Jaeris stops touching Linkara. “What, suddenly I have the power and you ain’t inclined towards havin’ me in yer bed? I see …” Jaeris leaves. “Seven years, Linkara. I won’t forget it.”
Linkara sleeps alone, missing the warmth of Jaeris’ presence, and hates himself.
~*~
Margaret grows stronger by the year, and taller too, leaving the scrawny young girl behind. She still enjoys braiding Jaeris’ hair, still loves Harvey’s stories, and still feels a pang of worry whenever skies darken and Linkara hasn’t yet returned from fishing for the day.
She notices Jaeris on the rocks by the beach more and more, very close to the seals who visit their coast every year. She swears that he speaks with them, swims with them even, but doesn’t ask about it.
Linkara tells her what “maidenhead” means, and about how babies are made, and admits, red-faced, that yes, he and Jaeris used to sleep together “like that.” Adults don’t always do that to make babies, sometimes they do it for fun, to make each other happy.
Margaret hasn’t ever seen Jaeris look especially happy, but she doesn’t tell Linkara that.
~*~
The seasons turn. Linkara brings in fish, Margaret starts a small garden, then a larger garden, winter comes and spring returns.
Three years have passed since Linkara and Jaeris shook hands. Again, it is winter. Margaret went to Harvey’s house with a gift of food and was stranded there by a storm. Linkara and Jaeris are alone in the house. They’re huddling for warmth to conserve firewood, missing the balance and brightness that Margaret brings to the house.
Linkara turns his head and nuzzles against Jaeris’ neck.
Jaeris pushes him away. “None of that.”
“I want you. I … please, I’m sorry, I -”
Jaeris drags Linkara down onto the floor, buried underneath blankets. It’s fast and frantic and for once Linkara doesn’t have to muffle his cries.
“You won’t change my mind,” Jaeris says, as they lie on the floor, sweaty limbs entangled.
“I wasn’t trying to.” Linkara turns away from Jaeris.
~*~
Five years have passed since the agreement.
Young men in the village and from the nearby villages start to call on Margaret. Linkara sends some of them away right off, and gives a few leave to court his daughter. Margaret is presented with flowers and small baubles, and smiles and thanks the eager young men, but gives no answer to the one question they all have for her.
“Why don’t they fight?” Jaeris asks, watching as Margaret sends another suitor on his way.
“Fight? Why should they?” Linkara blinks.
“One female, too many males. That means a fight.” Jaeris eyes the suitors. “Unless they’re cowardly males, looking to sneak past and give her cubs that way.”
Linkara scowls. “There’ll be none of that, I promise.”
Jaeris nods. “Sneaks are not good fathers. Margaret deserves a brave mate to raise cubs with.”
Linkara remembers that he won’t live to see Margaret ‘raising cubs’ with anyone, will be lucky to live to see her wedded at all. Once, he had been looking forward to seeing Margaret raise a family, to retiring from the sea and spinning stories by the fire in a rocking chair, helping with grandchildren and meals.
Jaeris sees Linkara’s pained look, and says nothing.
~*~
Margaret is being courted by a doctor’s son with strawberry blond hair. He’s sweet and kind and clever, and doesn’t try to discourage Margaret from chopping wood or hunting as some of her other suitors have. He praises her strength and self-reliance, and when she picks him up to demonstrate her strength, he kisses her.
Margaret has never been kissed before. She likes it, wants to keep doing it, and find out what it’s like to do more, not for making babies yet but for fun. She wants to make him happy, and he really wants to make her happy.
So when he asks her, blushing and nervous and holding a ring in his hand, the question many have asked before … Margaret knows her answer.
“Yes.”
~*~
Margaret’s wedding is three weeks away.
Jaeris pulls Linkara aside after dinner, whispers “Seven years are up.”
Linkara looks at Margaret, clearing the dishes and humming the song Harvey has promised to sing at her wedding.
“Please …” his voice cracks. “Just a little more time …”
“Enough time. Enough waitin’ … where is it?”
Linkara nods, and goes to embrace Margaret. He tells her he’s proud of her, so happy that she’s grown into such a strong young woman, can’t wait to see her marriage. He’s crying, and says he needs to go for a walk. Margaret thinks he’s reacting as any father would, is overwhelmed by emotions at the sight of his child growing up at last. She sees Jaeris follow him outside and thinks nothing of it, returns to cleaning the plates.
“She can’t know. She can never know. Never come back here, after … after this.” Linkara says as they walk down the path to the sea.
“I won’t.” Jaeris promises.
Linkara detours from the path and digs up the knife. He hands it to Jaeris with shaking hands, and they walk to the beach. The sun is setting, casting shadows over the surf.
“Please, just promise me one thing,” Linkara says, catching Jaeris by the arm.
Jaeris says nothing, just stares, the knife in hand.
“Hide my body, after … so nobody finds it. Please. Just drag me out to sea if you must. Please.” Linkara can barely stand now. He puts his hands on Jaeris’s shoulders to steady himself.
“Are you ready?” Jaeris asks softly.
It wasn’t a promise. Linkara can only hope that Jaeris will hide his body, that Margaret won’t find him here, pale and dead tomorrow.
Linkara nods. “I’m sorry. For all these years, if I ever … if you ever felt … I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes.
He expects to feel the knife in his throat, or his heart, feel his blood spilling out onto Jaeris’ legs, returning him to his true form.
Instead he feels a kiss, Jaeris’ lips against his own. Linkara wants to turn away, because this is beyond cruelty, for Jaeris to kill him as he kisses him, but if this is his last he’ll gladly take it.
Linkara hears the knife clatter onto the rocks and jolts back, eyes wide.
“I choose,” Jaeris catches Linkara under the chin, “an’ I choose to stay. I choose this form, this life. If you’ll have me, I choose to be yours.”
Jaeris kicks the knife into the sea. It hisses, glows, and melts into sea foam.
Linkara pulls Jaeris into a kiss so deep that the sun has set by the time they break it.
~*~
Margaret keeps her hand on the tiller, steering the boat straight and true. Her husband is back ashore, keeping the twins from setting anything on fire (again.) Now that they’re past the crawling stage, they’re bundles of terror.
Jaeris casts out the nets, skimming his hand along the water briefly. Sometimes he sings his mournful song, as they return after a long day of fishing. More often, though, he sings a song learned from Harvey, ballads that Margaret is only too happy to join in on.
Linkara tightens the bindings on the sail, smiling out at the ocean. They’ve had excellent hauls all summer, and are turning good profits at market. They’ll have plenty to eat this winter, not just fish but canned fruits from distant lands.
The tides still call Jaeris, and he still dreams of the ocean. He swims with the seals, but he doesn’t glare at Linkara afterwards or shun the villagers. He and Linkara share a bed, the power evenly balanced at last between them.
Jaeris reaches down over the side of the boat and lets his hand dip into a wave. The sea calls, but he does not obey its summons. He made his own choice, between the sea and the land.
Jaeris looks up at Margaret, laughing as she steers, and Linkara, unfurling a sail.
Jaeris does not regret his choice.
The End
Rating: R for sexual content.
Word Count: 5,067 (aprox.)
Characters: Linkara, Jaeris, Margaret, Harvey Finevoice, SoI, Jaeris’s Wife.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, mean no disrespect, etc.
Warnings: Dubcon, discussion of noncon, discussion of human sacrifice, way too many references to ballads.
Summary: A rash decision leads to Linkara accidentally destroying a selkie’s sealskin, and now Jaeris is bound to him forever.
A/N: Written for the Reverse Big Bang, a fill for prompt #14. The prompt was a picture of Jaeris shedding his sealskin, and a request for a story about Jaeris as a selkie. Title comes from a song by one of my favorite artists, Seanan McGuire. There are shades of the original Little Mermaid in here. I had a lot of trouble starting this story, many false beginnings, and the ending gave me writer’s block. I was down to the wire and I’m not entirely satisfied with the ending, to be honest. Overall I like what I have, though, the story I put together.
Art: [To be posted later]
Every day with good weather, Linkara puts on his hat and jacket, walks down the path to the sea, and sets sail on his fishing boat. And every night he returns, sometimes smiling with nets full of fish; sometimes frowning with empty nets.
This is how it has been, and how it shall always be, as far as Margaret is concerned.
One night, however, Linkara does not return. The sky darkens and Margaret becomes afraid. She lights the fire and cooks dinner as best she can, with her small hands, and tries not to think of sinking ships and sea monsters swallowing Linkara’s fishing boat whole.
Harvey arrives after Margaret has finished her supper. He used to go to sea as well, hunting whales, but his leg was crushed and a chill has sunk into his bones, so he works on the land now and walks with a cane. He tells her that there was a fire down at the docks, and Linkara helped to put out the blaze; that’s why he’s late coming home. Linkara sent word, via Harvey, that he’s on his way, and that Margaret should get some sleep.
Harvey sings to Margaret and tucks her in, and Margaret sleeps peacefully, with no nightmares of sea monsters or her parents.
~*~
The man doesn’t have difficulty walking, but his gait is unusual. He moves his head and shoulders as he walks, bobbing them forward.
Linkara is covered in soot and his clothes reek of smoke. His jacket was ruined as he tried to smother the flames. He’d thought, scrambling on the beach in the dark, frantic for something to fight the fire with, that it had been fortune, finding a huge black damp blanket to throw over the fire consuming the docked boats.
It’s only just sinking in for him, how wrong he’d been. Why the strange man had screamed so inhumanly when the “blanket” burned.
“There’s no way for you to … get another one?” Linkara asks, as they walk up the dark path.
The man says nothing.
Linkara takes that as a ‘no.’
“Why are you following me?”
“I have to,” grits the man, the first words he’s spoken in nearly an hour.
Linkara remembers the ballads Harvey sings at the tavern, about men who’d steal the skins of selkie women and force into marriage. He shudders at the thought. “You have no choice?”
The man growls, a sound like territorial seals about to fight, and Linkara stops talking.
~*~
When Margaret wakes, there’s a stranger in the house. He’s a pale man with long golden hair, longer than any hair Margaret has seen a man with before. He reminds her of the pictures in a book of fairy tales Linkara gave her last summer, illustrations of a princess with hair so long it spiraled out of a high stone tower.
Linkara tells her that he found a wrecked ship today while he was fishing, and Jaeris was on it, barely alive. Since he has nowhere to call home, he’ll be living with them now for the foreseeable future.
the man’s name is Jaeris, an
Margaret accepts this readily. After breakfast, Margaret shyly asks if she can braid Jaeris’s hair.
He stares at her in shock. “I don’t … understand,” he says carefully, as if words are difficult.
“I’ll show you!” Margaret gets her basket of ribbons and sits beside Jaeris, braiding his long blond hair into several segments.
Linkara coughs. “I have to go down to the harbor, to help with the rebuilding. Jaeris, would you come with me?”
Jaeris shoots him a look of disgust and stands up, crossing his arms. “Yes,” he spits.
“Can I come too?” Margaret asks.
“No, Margaret. It’s mostly heavy lifting, too heavy for you. Yet,” Linkara adds as Margaret crosses her arms and opens her mouth to argue. “Soon you’ll be stronger than I am, I know. Why don’t you chop up some wood today, build up those muscles?”
Margaret beams and nods eagerly, heading outside for the woodpile.
~*~
“Is that what I’m to be? A pet for yer whelp?” Jaeris spits, pulling the ribbons from his hair as they walk back to the harbor.
“That was not my intention!” Linkara snaps back, stooping to collect the ribbons Jaeris is tossing aside. “Margaret is a very lonely girl, and there are few other children in the village for her to play with. She thinks your hair is pretty, what’s the harm in that?”
Jaeris glowers. “I shouldn’t be lookin’ like this at all. If ya hadn’t burnt my skin up, I’d be far away by now.”
Linkara can’t argue against that, so he stays silent.
Rebuilding is long, hard work. Portions of the docks burnt away, and several boats sank before the fire was stifled. Linkara and Jaeris work with the rest of the villagers to haul burnt timbers from the water and begin building a new deck with newly hewn beams. There’s no time to chat: the work consumes them. Linkara is grateful for this distraction. He can only hope that Jaeris is as well. The other villagers accept Linkara’s story of finding Jaeris on a wreck out at sea, a lost man with few memories. Wrecks are common enough, and Linkara brought a daughter back from the sea once, a few years ago. Bringing a man back from the sea is hardly more surprising.
Towards the end of the day, Jaeris walks to the end of the beach, to an outcropping of rocks. Linkara watches him crawl onto them, to a group of dark shapes that can only be seals.
The villagers leave for their homes, proud of the work they accomplished. A few slap Linkara on the back in thanks for his aid, invite him to dinner at their homes when he likes. Linkara, in turn offers them dinner at his house in winter, to stave off the loneliness of those dark days. Companionship and tales keep people alive in winter just as much as food.
Linkara shakes his head and walks towards the rocks. The seals have left, but for one. By the time he gets close enough to call out, the last seal is leaving, swimming away, and Jaeris is huddled on the rocks, face bloodless.
Linkara sits on the rocks, at what he hopes is a respectful distance, at least five or six feet between them.
“The colony is migratin’ south.” Jaeris says softly. “They won’t be back until next year.”
Linkara blinks. A year, without his family …
“Did they know of anything that could be done?” he asks.
Jaeris doesn’t reply.
Linkara sighs, the urge to put a hand on the selkie’s shoulder overwhelming. He resists, though, knowing that Jaeris would not appreciate the gesture.
“We should head for my home. It’s getting late, and Margaret will worry.”
~*~
Jaeris returns, much to Margaret’s delight. She proudly shows off the woodpile she constructed during the day, and flexes her tiny muscles. Linkara praises her and helps with cooking dinner. Jaeris doesn’t speak much at all during dinner, but Margaret is accustomed to seafaring men with few words to spare, and bides her time.
That night, Margaret drifts in and out of sleep, tossing and turning up in the loft where her mattress and blankets are. She wakes from a nonsense dream to sounds below, and, sleep still clinging to her, does not stir.
“What are you doing?” Linkara’s voice hisses in the darkness.
“I thought … I …” Jaeris sounds confused.
Margaret’s ears strain.
“For God’s sake! I don’t … you have no choice, being here. I’m not going to take more from you.” Margaret has never heard shame in Linkara’s voice, until now. It sounds wrong to her.
“Why not?” Margaret almost misses this: Jaeris’ voice is so quiet.
Linkara makes a kind of strangled sound; then takes a deep breath. “Go back to bed. Your bed.”
There’s a soft shuffle of feet over the floorboards, and then silence.
Margaret chews a lock of her hair, trying to figure out what just happened. She decides that it’s probably none of her business, and goes back to sleep.
~*~
Winter comes, and hits hard. The village is buried in snow. Some houses are nothing but roofs and chimneys sticking up out of snowdrifts. Ropes are strung between houses to guide people in the night, and paths are dug every few days.
Mostly, people stay inside, keeping their fires going, slowly eating away their winter stores.
Linkara takes Margaret out to learn how to hunt, to snare the skinny rabbits; even to shoot a deer once. They drag it back to the house and invite some neighbors for a feast. The families bring canned vegetables and small helpings of bread to make it a proper meal. Harvey brings a jar of jam and a jug of something Margaret isn’t allowed to drink. Jaeris stirs the soup and avoids eye contact as much as possible.
After dinner, everyone lounges around the table and fire, sharing stories. This goes late into the night, with children falling asleep on their parents’ laps, and the stories changing from comic to tragic to frightening to romantic.
Linkara tells the story of a brave warrior who donned a mask to conceal his identity and save villagers from a tyrannical ruler, taking the symbol of a bat as his calling card.
Harvey sings the ballad of Tam Lin. Margaret isn’t quite sure what “maidenhead” means, but from the way the adults glance at each other, she suspects it has something to do with how babies are made. She likes the story, all about the brave girl who wrestles with the magic of the Faerie Queen herself to save her love.
After Harvey, Jaeris raises his head and then his hand. “May I go next?” he asks.
The neighbors stare. Most of them have never heard Jaeris speak before.
“Of course, Jaeris,” Linkara says, cautiously.
Jaeris clears his throat and straightens up. Then he begins to sing.
There are no words in his song, syllables perhaps, but no words any of the people in the room recognize. Margaret clings to Linkara, because she can feel the crash and fall of the waves, in her bones, if not on her skin. Linkara holds her tightly, because he can feel it too.
By the end of the song, Harvey is crying, as are a few of their neighbors, though they can’t quite understand why. The song was as mournful as it was full of life, the thrum of the sea, the force of nature itself.
Margaret sees Jaeris and Linkara looking at each other, and doesn’t quite understand what that means.
Once the neighbors have left for their own homes, holding lanterns and thanking Linkara for his hospitality, Margaret is so tired she has to be carried up the ladder by Linkara to her loft.
“Linkara, what’s ‘maidenhead’ mean?” Margaret asks, before she forgets.
Even in the dim light of the house, Linkara turns red. “I’ll, um, tell you when you’ve grown up a bit more,” he says.
Margaret frowns. That’s Linkara’s answer to a lot of interesting questions. “Jaeris’ song was really pretty,” she ventures as Linkara tucks her in.
“Yes, yes it was,” Linkara agrees, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight, Margaret. Sleep well.”
Margaret yawns, and dreams of rescuing a knight called Tam Lin with Jaeris’ face.
~*~
One night it’s so cold that Linkara is shivering, Jaeris is shivering, and only Margaret is fine, high up in the house, bundled under all her blankets and near the chimney.
Jaeris crawls closer, and closer, and finally Linkara lifts his blankets and Jaeris snuggles underneath.
There’s a pause, words unsaid that hang in the air. Jaeris is trembling and it’s not from the cold. He flinches when Linkara reaches over and puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close, their bodies pressed against each other.
Jaeris, after a while, reaches down, fingers shaking so badly that at first Linkara can’t even understand what he’s trying to do. Then he shakes his head, and pulls Jaeris’ hands away.
“I don’t understand,” Jaeris whispers, over and over. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand.” His voice cracks.
“I don’t want you to do that stuff. I trapped you here. You have to stay with me. You have no choice. But I won’t force you to do … any of that.”
Jaeris is silent, and then falls asleep, tangled with Linkara.
The next night, they cuddle together from the start. Jaeris is quiet for a long time, so long that Linkara thinks he might be asleep.
“What if I want it?” Jaeris asks. “Do you … are you …”
Linkara feels his face burning. This can’t be happening. He isn’t having this conversation. “I …”
“I seen you, starin’ at me.” Jaeris purrs. “You like to look.”
Linkara looks away. “No. No, it’s … wrong … you can’t …”
“I want to.” Jaeris slides a hand up underneath Linkara’s shirt, and it feels … good. Linkara wants more.
“We … we have to … be quiet …” Linkara pants as Jaeris reaches low again. “Margaret …”
“I can think of a way to keep myself quiet,” Jaeris’ head vanishes under the blankets.
Linkara bites his hand to keep from crying out.
~*~
There are more nights with neighbors. Sometimes in Linkara’s home, sometimes in Harvey’s, sometimes at another home. The fresh meat dwindles: someone kills their worst-laying hen and shares the stew with a small group. The deer and rabbits have gone, or learned to avoid snares. Margaret is staring to get sick of salted fish. Harvey’s jams become fewer and farther between, and stop altogether.
The stories become darker, as people dig deeper into their memories. A man tells of a storm from his youth that shattered all the ships in the harbor. A woman joins with Harvey and sings the Tale of Two Sisters, which haunts Margaret for days, the bone fiddle featuring in many of her nightmares for weeks to come.
Finally, Margaret works up the courage to tell a story herself. It’s silly and meandering, but there’s truths hidden in it, about what happened to her and her parents and Linkara saving her. Linkara hugs her tightly afterwards, tears on his cheeks, and Margaret hugs him back. They don’t need words in that moment.
Jaeris tells the story of the selkies, beautiful women who dance on the beach and are forced to become wives to fishermen who steal their sealskins. Harvey stares at him during the story, and then at Linkara.
Afterwards, while they think Margaret is asleep by the fire, Harvey talks to Linkara in hushed tones.
“It’s not my place to judge …” Harvey whispers.
“It’s not my fault!” Linkara hisses back. “It was an accident, and now there’s nothing I can do.”
Harvey sighs. “You might have told me. There’s tales, I could … help, perhaps. In the spring, I’ll ask my friends along the coastline.”
Unbeknownst to them all, Jaeris isn’t asleep either. He’s listening to every word.
~*~
The snows melt, and life returns to the fields and forests once more. Linkara goes out on his boat every day, when the weather is good, returns with nets laden with fish. Margaret can chop a lot more wood this year, and hunt on her own at last. Mostly, Jaeris walks with Linkara to the beach, and waits, watching the sea.
One day, Margaret walks with them. She and Jaeris wait on the beach while Linkara’s ship gets smaller and smaller, finally vanishing over the horizon.
They linger on the shore, without much to do for the rest of the day. Margaret plays in the surf, collects shells and rocks in a pile, and pretend-fights at invisible monsters with driftwood sticks.
Jaeris sits on the rocks, staring out to sea.
Eventually, Margaret tires and sits beside him. “Linkara won’t be back for a while,” she says. She used to sit and wait for his ship all day, sick with worry, but she’s older now and knows better.
“Not watchin’ for him,” Jaeris growls.
“What for, then?” Margaret asks, playing with a few shells.
“My wife.” Jaeris says.
“You have a wife?” Margaret asks, shocked.
“Had.” Jaeris stares out to sea meaningfully.
“Oh,” Margaret nods in comprehension. “My parents drowned at sea too. There was a big storm, and they were on the deck of the ship, trying to do an evil ritual. They got washed overboard. So did I. Linkara pulled me out of the water and saved me.” Margaret touches the scar on her neck.
Jaeris stares at her, eyes wide. “I … my wife ain’t … she’s not …”
“She’s lost at sea, then?” Margaret frowns. “That’s almost worse. You don’t know if she’s washed overboard or still alive somewhere.” Margaret has a thought, “Maybe someone like Linkara saved her too!”
“Not likely,” Jaeris growls.
Margaret shrugs. “It’s nicer to think that. At least then you can pretend she’s happy somewhere.” Margaret has a sudden, uncomfortable thought. “Are you happy here, Jaeris?”
Jaeris looks like he just stubbed his toe in the door. “I … Margaret … that’s …”
Margaret looks down at her feet. “Sorry. That was stupid.”
“No, it … I’m … you’re alright, Margaret.” Jaeris sighs heavily. “I miss her. I miss her so, so much. It’s an … ache. I can’t describe it. And I’ll never see her again.”
Margaret chews her lip, trying to think of what adults do in situations like this. She steps closer to Jaeris and wraps her arms around his waist, the closest she can get to hugging him.
After a moment, Jaeris ruffles her hair. “Thank you, Margaret.”
That night, Margaret dreams of the sea coming up the path, a roar of sound and fury, swallowing their house whole.
~*~
Harvey returns from his journey, weary, his limp worse than before.
He brings with him a knife, curved slightly and carved with sigils, wrapped in old cloth. When Linkara visits his home, Harvey sets the knife on the table.
“There’s your ‘cure,’” Harvey spits. “I found one, one tale, of a sea witch who could change the children of the ocean to landwalkers, and back again. If they became trapped, they were to wield this knife and take the lifeblood of a land dweller, and when that blood spilled upon their feet, they would return to their true form.”
Harvey takes a long drink from a hipflask and offers it to Linkara. Linkara shakes his head.
“Do you dare tell him?” Harvey asks as Linkara examines the knife with a steady hand. “Would you trust him with Margaret, after telling him about this?”
And of course, Linkara wouldn’t. He would worry every day he went out to sea, worry that he’d return to find Margaret’s lifeless body on the shore and Jaeris gone forever.
“Why bring it here?” Linkara asks, setting the knife down and wrapping it again.
“So you could bury it. So no one else could ever find it. Don’t you dare tell me where you hide it, either.” Harvey cautions. “I’d tell, someday. It’s a story, I have to keep stories alive.”
Linkara takes the knife and buries it.
He waits for three weeks, going through denial, frustration, anguish, and finally, arrives at a decision.
He invites Jaeris on a walk one evening, after dinner. Margaret is chopping wood again, a final chore before bedtime.
Linkara tells Jaeris that Harvey went up the coast, to find out if there are any tales of selkies being able to return to the sea after losing their skin. Then he tells him the only story he found, about the knife and the sea witch.
Jaeris says nothing for a long time. He sits on a fallen tree and stares at the ground.
“I have a proposition for you,” Linkara says softly.
Jaeris stares up at him, eyes shining with desperate need, rekindled after being quenched forever.
“Wait until Margaret is grown. Until she can live by herself. Say … seven years? Then, if you still want to, I’ll go with you to the beach, with the knife and you can … take my blood.”
Jaeris’ eyes widen.
Linkara forgets how to breathe.
Jaeris stands up, slowly, still struggling with human movements, even now. “Seven years?”
“Yes.” Linkara exhales.
“Deal.” Jaeris sticks out his hand, and Linkara shakes it.
~*~
Jaeris dreams of the sea often. Swimming alongside his wife, exploring new coasts and braving storms.
Tonight is the first night he dreams of being human-shaped and in the sea.
He is dragging Margaret with him, her skirt soaked with surf, weighing her down. It is raining, and Margaret is crying.
Jaeris is holding a knife in one hand, and Margaret’s hair in the other.
“Let her go!” Linkara is holding a spear - a huge, deadly thing Harvey carried to hunt whales with once upon a time.
“Not until I have what’s mine!” Jaeris snarls.
“No!” Linkara looks half-mad with desperation. “You can’t!”
“I can’t?” Jaeris stares at Linkara. “You stole her from the sea!” he screams to be heard over the wind. “Just like you stole me!”
“Please, Jaeris!” Linkara tosses the spear away, holds up his hands. “Take me instead! Take my blood! Just let her go!”
“It can’t be yours, it has to be hers!” Jaeris presses the knife to Margaret’s throat. “The blood of an innocent!”
Margaret is sobbing about her parents, the family that raised her so sheltered and alone, to keep her “pure” so they could sacrifice her to their god who sleeps beneath the waves.
Jaeris wakes, face wet with tears.
It takes him a long time to fall back to sleep.
~*~
The dynamic has changed between them. For a long time, Jaeris doesn’t sleep with Linkara anymore, and Linkara assumes he never will again.
Then, after a few months, Jaeris crawls in beside him, as he did in the winter.
“Do you still want me?” Jaeris asks, tracing a hand along Linkara’s neck.
“I don’t … I don’t know …” This is sick, wrong, Jaeris is going to kill him in less than seven years, and he’s here now, taunting him …
“Nothin’s changed.” Jaeris whispers.
“Everything has changed.”
Jaeris stops touching Linkara. “What, suddenly I have the power and you ain’t inclined towards havin’ me in yer bed? I see …” Jaeris leaves. “Seven years, Linkara. I won’t forget it.”
Linkara sleeps alone, missing the warmth of Jaeris’ presence, and hates himself.
~*~
Margaret grows stronger by the year, and taller too, leaving the scrawny young girl behind. She still enjoys braiding Jaeris’ hair, still loves Harvey’s stories, and still feels a pang of worry whenever skies darken and Linkara hasn’t yet returned from fishing for the day.
She notices Jaeris on the rocks by the beach more and more, very close to the seals who visit their coast every year. She swears that he speaks with them, swims with them even, but doesn’t ask about it.
Linkara tells her what “maidenhead” means, and about how babies are made, and admits, red-faced, that yes, he and Jaeris used to sleep together “like that.” Adults don’t always do that to make babies, sometimes they do it for fun, to make each other happy.
Margaret hasn’t ever seen Jaeris look especially happy, but she doesn’t tell Linkara that.
~*~
The seasons turn. Linkara brings in fish, Margaret starts a small garden, then a larger garden, winter comes and spring returns.
Three years have passed since Linkara and Jaeris shook hands. Again, it is winter. Margaret went to Harvey’s house with a gift of food and was stranded there by a storm. Linkara and Jaeris are alone in the house. They’re huddling for warmth to conserve firewood, missing the balance and brightness that Margaret brings to the house.
Linkara turns his head and nuzzles against Jaeris’ neck.
Jaeris pushes him away. “None of that.”
“I want you. I … please, I’m sorry, I -”
Jaeris drags Linkara down onto the floor, buried underneath blankets. It’s fast and frantic and for once Linkara doesn’t have to muffle his cries.
“You won’t change my mind,” Jaeris says, as they lie on the floor, sweaty limbs entangled.
“I wasn’t trying to.” Linkara turns away from Jaeris.
~*~
Five years have passed since the agreement.
Young men in the village and from the nearby villages start to call on Margaret. Linkara sends some of them away right off, and gives a few leave to court his daughter. Margaret is presented with flowers and small baubles, and smiles and thanks the eager young men, but gives no answer to the one question they all have for her.
“Why don’t they fight?” Jaeris asks, watching as Margaret sends another suitor on his way.
“Fight? Why should they?” Linkara blinks.
“One female, too many males. That means a fight.” Jaeris eyes the suitors. “Unless they’re cowardly males, looking to sneak past and give her cubs that way.”
Linkara scowls. “There’ll be none of that, I promise.”
Jaeris nods. “Sneaks are not good fathers. Margaret deserves a brave mate to raise cubs with.”
Linkara remembers that he won’t live to see Margaret ‘raising cubs’ with anyone, will be lucky to live to see her wedded at all. Once, he had been looking forward to seeing Margaret raise a family, to retiring from the sea and spinning stories by the fire in a rocking chair, helping with grandchildren and meals.
Jaeris sees Linkara’s pained look, and says nothing.
~*~
Margaret is being courted by a doctor’s son with strawberry blond hair. He’s sweet and kind and clever, and doesn’t try to discourage Margaret from chopping wood or hunting as some of her other suitors have. He praises her strength and self-reliance, and when she picks him up to demonstrate her strength, he kisses her.
Margaret has never been kissed before. She likes it, wants to keep doing it, and find out what it’s like to do more, not for making babies yet but for fun. She wants to make him happy, and he really wants to make her happy.
So when he asks her, blushing and nervous and holding a ring in his hand, the question many have asked before … Margaret knows her answer.
“Yes.”
~*~
Margaret’s wedding is three weeks away.
Jaeris pulls Linkara aside after dinner, whispers “Seven years are up.”
Linkara looks at Margaret, clearing the dishes and humming the song Harvey has promised to sing at her wedding.
“Please …” his voice cracks. “Just a little more time …”
“Enough time. Enough waitin’ … where is it?”
Linkara nods, and goes to embrace Margaret. He tells her he’s proud of her, so happy that she’s grown into such a strong young woman, can’t wait to see her marriage. He’s crying, and says he needs to go for a walk. Margaret thinks he’s reacting as any father would, is overwhelmed by emotions at the sight of his child growing up at last. She sees Jaeris follow him outside and thinks nothing of it, returns to cleaning the plates.
“She can’t know. She can never know. Never come back here, after … after this.” Linkara says as they walk down the path to the sea.
“I won’t.” Jaeris promises.
Linkara detours from the path and digs up the knife. He hands it to Jaeris with shaking hands, and they walk to the beach. The sun is setting, casting shadows over the surf.
“Please, just promise me one thing,” Linkara says, catching Jaeris by the arm.
Jaeris says nothing, just stares, the knife in hand.
“Hide my body, after … so nobody finds it. Please. Just drag me out to sea if you must. Please.” Linkara can barely stand now. He puts his hands on Jaeris’s shoulders to steady himself.
“Are you ready?” Jaeris asks softly.
It wasn’t a promise. Linkara can only hope that Jaeris will hide his body, that Margaret won’t find him here, pale and dead tomorrow.
Linkara nods. “I’m sorry. For all these years, if I ever … if you ever felt … I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes.
He expects to feel the knife in his throat, or his heart, feel his blood spilling out onto Jaeris’ legs, returning him to his true form.
Instead he feels a kiss, Jaeris’ lips against his own. Linkara wants to turn away, because this is beyond cruelty, for Jaeris to kill him as he kisses him, but if this is his last he’ll gladly take it.
Linkara hears the knife clatter onto the rocks and jolts back, eyes wide.
“I choose,” Jaeris catches Linkara under the chin, “an’ I choose to stay. I choose this form, this life. If you’ll have me, I choose to be yours.”
Jaeris kicks the knife into the sea. It hisses, glows, and melts into sea foam.
Linkara pulls Jaeris into a kiss so deep that the sun has set by the time they break it.
~*~
Margaret keeps her hand on the tiller, steering the boat straight and true. Her husband is back ashore, keeping the twins from setting anything on fire (again.) Now that they’re past the crawling stage, they’re bundles of terror.
Jaeris casts out the nets, skimming his hand along the water briefly. Sometimes he sings his mournful song, as they return after a long day of fishing. More often, though, he sings a song learned from Harvey, ballads that Margaret is only too happy to join in on.
Linkara tightens the bindings on the sail, smiling out at the ocean. They’ve had excellent hauls all summer, and are turning good profits at market. They’ll have plenty to eat this winter, not just fish but canned fruits from distant lands.
The tides still call Jaeris, and he still dreams of the ocean. He swims with the seals, but he doesn’t glare at Linkara afterwards or shun the villagers. He and Linkara share a bed, the power evenly balanced at last between them.
Jaeris reaches down over the side of the boat and lets his hand dip into a wave. The sea calls, but he does not obey its summons. He made his own choice, between the sea and the land.
Jaeris looks up at Margaret, laughing as she steers, and Linkara, unfurling a sail.
Jaeris does not regret his choice.
The End