maderr | Story!

I never thought I'd actually finish this. All too often a story will start out well, then abruptly stop, and I'm damned if I can get it going again.

For some reason, this one stirred from its long slumber ^__^

Once upon a time I started this for

skylark97, and I wanted very much for it to be a liiiiitle bit different. Most selkie stories (that I've read) go one of two ways: either the human steals the skin and falls in love with the selkie and gives the skin back -- and the selkie leaves and is never seen again. Or the human and selkie fall in love, the human fears the selkie will leave for X reason and steals the skin, conflict ensues but happily ever after is eventually achieved.

My story started with the rough idea what if the selkie let their skins get stolen?

It all went downhill from there ^_~

Much love to Ki-chan, who did the beta'ing this go round ^__^

The Selkie No One Wanted

“I couldn’t believe it.”

“I know!”

“Shocking! Did she really do that?”

“Would I lie?”

“You lie faster than a whore offered a bag of gold,” Kelp said acidly, neatly breaking up the giddy gossip session of his sisters, brothers, and two cousins…well, one cousin and one…something or other twice removed.

His sister, whom he’d just called a whore, glared at him. Her blue eyes took on an edge.

Kelp braced himself for what he knew was coming.

“At least I’ve had my skin stolen, eh?” his sister said with a sneer.

“Whores are generally in high demand, yes,” Kelp retorted.

They were all gathered along their favorite strip of beach, skins set up out of the way to warm in the sun while they played and lolled about in the sand and surf. This particular strip of beach was one of the few places the selkies of the area could go where their skins would be left alone.

“I’d rather be a whore than ugly,” his sister retorted, and the laughter of the others said that they all agreed with her.

Kelp growled but subsided, knowing he’d lost the fight before it began.

Selkies were pretty – either lithe, elegant seals in the water, or tall, beautiful humans that real humans lusted over on sight. All around him were buxom beauties and broad-shouldered beaus. His clan was a collection of jewels.

Then there was him. Short, not quite thin, not quite fat – stocky was the kindest anyone had ever put it, and that had been his mother. His hair couldn’t seem to decide what color it wanted to be – it had bits of everything in it. Eyes the color of mud instead of blue like the sea.

Everyone around him had been kidnapped – that is, their skins taken and hidden – by at least a dozen humans in their lifetime. Sometimes just for a couple of days, his sister had even been gone for three whole weeks before she'd gotten bored enough to trick the location of her skin from the human who'd stolen it.

Kelp had never had his skin taken, and everyone knew it.

He waited for the conversation to pick up, lasting through that until they all began to slip into their skins for a swim, then slipped away when they were all distracted.

Not that they would have cared, but at least this way it didn’t quite seem like he was slinking away in defeat.

Away from the beach, he snatched up the rucksack he’d left in the scrub and quickly pulled his clothes back on.

He didn't really care about all their stupid stories and bragging rights and all. He didn't. Who wanted to be trapped in a relationship for an indeterminate period of time with someone who was at best amusing?

Still, sometimes after too much alcohol his siblings would talk about the nicer ones…the humans who had almost been worth staying with, except selkie automatically held humans in contempt for being so low as to steal their skins just for companionship.

Personally Kelp thought they all had it coming, and obviously they didn't mind – but he was the ugly one no one wanted.

He didn't want to be any of his relatives, not one single bit.

The problem was that he was sick of being mocked, and definitely tired of being alone. No selkie wanted anything to do with him, and why should they? He would only tarnish the image of whoever was with him.

Sighing at himself, Kelp continued to trudge along, moving away from the inlet belonging to the selkie and further down the beach. Habit guided his course, his feet taking him eventually to a tiny cove tucked away on the island's southernmost end.

The water here was pure sea blue, beautifully unbroken until the very edge, where it started to turn green and eventually violet. On the far side of the cove was an old cabin – not much more than a simple fishing shack, really, but Kelp knew it had weathered more than a few storms.

His eyes, however, weren't for the cabin – they were for the swimmer currently going back and forth across the cove. The motions were graceful, beautiful; he swam as effortlessly as any creature born to the sea. Most of Kelp's relatives didn't look half so coordinated even in their skins.

He stayed well out of sight, watching from the small trees and scrub lining the cove.

After all this time, so many months of watching, it seemed unfair he didn't at least know the fisherman's name…but he didn't. There was no good reason for him to talk to the man, or for the man to want to talk to him.

There was no harm in watching though – until he got caught, anyway. Which hopefully he never would. None of the others ever came this far, and the fisherman never noticed him.

So Kelp watched.

Especially as he finally climbed out of the water and onto the long pier stretching out from the cabin. Trim muscle and sun-dark skin – from head to foot, because the fisherman never bothered to wear anything when he swam his laps in the morning and evening. Even when he went fishing, he seldom wore more than was strictly necessary. His hair was blonde, but not the golden blonde Kelp associated with his siblings; it was the not quite white of the sand on the beach. More of the same sprinkled his chest, curled at his groin.

He knew from a few rare close glimpses that the fisherman probably hadn't bothered to shave for a day or three, which made him look sort of rough and grizzled – and somehow only better.

His eyes were green, dark like the trees as the sun was setting. Kelp had only seen them once, and for a moment had feared he'd been caught – but the fisherman had simply kept walking.

Kelp stared, rememorizing every splendid line of that lithe body.

A pity that the fisherman had never expressed any interest in selkie – not that he'd want Kelp, even if he did want a selkie, but still. Even the others occasionally remarked on the fisherman with 'all the personality of a dead fish, and the fish was more attractive.'

Not many lived on the island, large though it was. There was a village of decent size, but otherwise it was only his clan and the fisherman.

He sighed as the fisherman vanished into the cabin, slowly turning away to wander further inland, not really certain what he wanted to do. Remaining with the others he could only stand to do for so long…he could go to the mainland, but he still had plenty of coin…and the fine time the others always described having there remained a mystery to him.

All he ever saw were people who dismissed him on sight and skipped to more attractive people – or selkie, whatever the case may be. They were everything he wasn't; even most humans were better than him.

Maybe he'd just go swimming; if there was one thing he could do better than all the rest, it was swim.

Decided, Kelp turned and headed for a stretch of beach that was usually empty. It proved to be today. He quickly stripped, stowing his clothing in his bag and pulling out his skin. It was dark and slick, cool to the touch, and some small part of him was promptly soothed to be touching it. Always it was unsettling to be parted, even though selkie loved to be human as much as seal. He wondered, sometimes, how the others could stand to have it taken away.

He supposed he never would understand.

Wading into the water, he slid into the skin and dove for the deep waters, losing himself in the only place where he was not a freak, not a failure, and not ugly.

He swam forever, losing all tense of time, grabbing a few choice fish for dinner before swimming until his body screamed for a rest. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned to make his way back toward the island.

Something wasn't right. The water was all wrong.

As he drew nearer the surface, Kelp knew exactly what the problem was – a storm had come up. Island storms were sudden and nasty. He swam rapidly for shore, sliding out of his skin as he reached shallow waters.

Shaking out the skin, he neatly folded it and returned it to his rucksack before pulling on his clothes. The shirt and breeches, faded and comfortable, clung to his damp skin.

Broken trees, the sand tossed about – and the scent of the storm was still strong in the air. From the look of things, it had been a nasty one indeed. It was a miracle that a few of the trees were completely whole.

He cut straight through the island, taking the shortest route possible, coming out of the forest on a small cliff overlooking the beach that belonged to his clan. The tightness in his chest eased as he saw that everything was well – no one was hurt, he heard no cries of alarm.

Good.

Turning on his heel, he took off back the way he'd come, then curved south, coming out of the scrub on the far side of the beach.

He let out a cry of dismay, and dove without hesitation into the water, quickly crossing the cove and pulling himself up onto what little remained of the pier.

Nothing remained of the cabin except a mass of debris, and Kelp could only wonder at what sort of storm must have come up that it would cause so much devastation to a cabin that had endured so much.

Heart beating out of his chest, he began to work his way through the debris, tossing bits of wood aside, grunting as larger pieces proved more difficult to move. Just as he was beginning to give in to panic and despair, he heard a groan that made him all but fall over in relief.

Tossing aside a few more boards and some ruined fabric, he felt his chest unknot to see his fisherman lying in a heap – obviously in pain, but otherwise whole.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Can you move?"

The fisherman groaned and opened his eyes, the beautiful green color dulled with pain. "Think I'm okay," he said, and if the situation had not been so dire, Kelp would have been horribly, deliciously distracted by that deep, gruff voice that so perfectly matched the man's appearance. "Sore as anything." Those green eyes gave a slow blink. "Who are you?"

Kelp ignored the question – ignored the sting, that he hadn't been immediately recognized as a selkie – and stooped to help the fisherman up. "Nothing broken or anything?"

"Nah. I'll be black and blue for a few days, but I managed to escape real harm." He looked around the rubble and sighed. "Though it looks like I'm going to be sleeping outside a fair bit." He blinked. "You never said who you were. New to the island? Never saw you in the village before; I'd remember."

What did that mean? Probably nothing good. Kelp shrugged the comment aside. "I come and go," he replied. "Got misplaced in the storm a bit, saw your cabin – what's left of it, anyway. Wondered if someone might be in it. Glad you're okay."

"Yeah, thanks for the help. Not sure I could have gotten out on my own – not anytime soon, anyway. Name's Llyr."

Kelp's heart sped up. A name – he finally had a name! "Um. My name is Ronan." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, wishing just once he had the pretty gold of the rest of the clan, anything that Llyr might notice in a good way. "Most people just call me Kelp."

Llyr quirked a brow at that. "Kelp?"

"It's a childhood name that sort of stuck around," Kelp said with a shrug "No one uses my real name, unless they're really mad at me."

"I see," Llyr said, smiling briefly. "Well, Kelp, I really do appreciate the help."

Kelp shrugged. "I'm glad you're okay. Would you like some help salvaging what you can? I've got nowhere to be, and that storm is likely hitting the mainland right now anyway."

Llyr frowned. "You've already done enough for me. You'd do better to head for the village, see what you can do about getting home. Surely you've got family worrying about you."

"Nah, no one worries about me." Which, sadly, was pretty much true.

That got him a deeper frown, but at least Llyr just gave a shrug. "Sure. There's enough work here for a dozen men, so I'm not going to argue too much with you. So long as you let me repay it."

Kelp bit his tongue against all the lovely repayment options he'd like to suggest. "Sure," he said. "What should we do first?"

"I guess see what can be saved," Llyr said with a sigh, face going tight for a moment. "Wonder if anything made it at all."

"You made it, right?" Kelp said.

Llyr grunted and moved back to the wreckage that had been his home. Where Kelp had frantically torn through the debris, he worked slowly and methodically, tossing everything he picked up into one of three piles along the shore.

After watching him a moment, realizing what he was doing, Kelp set down his rucksack and moved to help. Beneath the hot sun that had returned promptly upon the departure of the storm clouds, his clothes quickly dried. Soon, however, salt water was replaced with sweat and he wished badly he could take his shirt off.

Next to Llyr, however, he would look pathetic indeed. Even slender as he was, Llyr was muscular. He seemed to be made of very little else; Kelp could watch him move all day. Llyr turned around and he hastily bent back to his work, grateful his flush could be attributed to the hard work and heat.

They worked until late, when the sun finally was setting and the air started to cool a bit. Llyr grabbed up a bucket and vanished briefly through the scrub behind his house, returning a minute later with a full bucket.

"Not much," he said, "but it's fresh and cool."

Kelp smiled and gratefully scooped some of the water out with one of the few salvaged cups, washing off his hands and face before going back for a long drink. "Thank you."

Llyr grunted. "It's me who should be thanking you. You've saved me at least a day's work already."

"I like to help," Kelp said with a shrug. It's not like he had anything better to do, hopeless crush on Llyr aside. This was far more productive than swimming and moping. "What shall we do for dinner?"

"Hell if I know," Llyr said with a sigh. "I went fishing earlier in the day, but the storm took care of all my efforts. I really need to go into the village at some point. If I was smart, I'd start that way tonight."

Kelp shook his head. "You should rest."

"Too much work to rest." Llyr drank until the bucket was nearly empty, then upended it over his head. "Guess I should take the boat out to catch some decent fish. They never come into the cove much – know better."

No. He was tired, and he'd had a cabin more or less fall on him. The very last thing Llyr should be doing was fishing. He shouldn't be doing any work at all. Kelp shook his head and motioned. "You could start the fire? Maybe fix something with what we did manage to save? I'll go out fishing."

Llyr frowned.

"I won't take the boat," Kelp said hastily, cheeks flushing. He didn't need the boat, and he wished he could say that, but he just didn't know what Llyr thought about selkie – and he didn't want to see how he would react to seeing a selkie who looked so unlike the others. "If that's what you're worried about, I mean."

"I'm not worried about that," Llyr said. "Everyone around here knows my boat, and it's not meant for more than short fishing expeditions and the occasional trip to the mainland. I'm still trying to figure out why you're helping me."

Kelp looked down, feeling his cheeks heat. He shrugged. "No reason."

There was a pause, then Llyr's gruff voice broke it. "Fine, I'll admit I'm more than a little on the exhausted side. You get the fish; I'll start a fire and try not to be asleep by the time you get back."

"Okay," Kelp said, risking only the briefest of glances before turning and darting away, snatching up his rucksack on the way.

Everything else had been ruined in the storm, but Llyr's boat had survived without a scratch, kept far enough from both trees and water, protected by the scrub. Kelp worked laboriously to push it back into the water, scrabbling over the side once it was into deep enough water, then paddling out of the cove and into the deeper waters beyond.

Well out of sight of Llyr, he tossed the anchor over the side, then pulled his skin from his rucksack and dove into the water.

Catching the fish took no time at all, and it was a relief to be back in the one place he felt comfortable and at home. It was nerve wracking to be doing something other than watching Llyr from afar.

He clambered back up the side of the boat and stowed his skin, then began to paddle back home, the moonlight his only guide. It gave the cove a mysterious air, the way the water reflected the moonlight, the fire that Llyr had built on the beach.

Kelp fastened the boat to the pier, rather than dragging it back up on land, then gathered up his catch and trudged along the sand to the fire.

Sure enough, Llyr was fast asleep, head cushioned by one of his salvaged pillows, covered by a light blanket.

Resisting an urge to go and fuss with the blanket, wishing he could cover Llyr in his skin because that would be much warmer and more comfortable, Kelp settled down and worked by moonlight and the fire on the fish, the job so familiar to him he did not require better light.

Soon the smell of cooking fish mingled with the scent of the surf, and Kelp could not honestly remember a better night than this one, even if he was exhausted to his bones. An evening spent helping his fisherman, and getting to sleep close to him…without a single member of the clan around to mock him...

Life could be better, but he wasn't going to ask for more when he never thought to have this much. There was also tomorrow, which promised to be another day of helping Llyr. It would be a very good day, he knew it.

*~*~*

It was going to be a lousy day, he knew that the minute he woke up to see one of his cousins standing in the copse of trees at the edge of the beach. Muttering a few soft curses, he picked himself up and trudged over to her. "What?" he snapped.

She was staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "The crusty old fisherman stole your skin?"

Kelp blinked. They thought… "He wants help fixing his ruined cabin."

"I see," she said with a laugh. "So he got a selkie to do it? Clever, I guess." She tossed her hair back. "He doesn't even have to pay you!" She patted his cheek and winked. "Try to get something to make it worth your while, hmm? He's rather rough and unkempt looking, but cleaned up I always thought he wouldn't be too awful. I mean no one is as good looking as us." She looked him up and down. "Most of us, anyway." She laughed before Kelp could snap at her, though he wasn't quite sure he could – she didn't mean to be hurtful, it was just a stating of facts for her. "Wait until I tell the others! They'll be so proud of you, even if you've only been taken to do work!" She winked again, and turned around, calling over her shoulder as she bolted away. "Don't worry, we'll leave you alone!"

He fought an urge to throw something at her head, and slowly turned to make his way back to the beach.

Damn it. He hadn't thought that anyone would notice his absence – he vanished for days and no one ever cared. It had never crossed his mind that they would find him here, or care. It definitely hadn't occurred to him they would think he was here because Llyr had stolen his skin.

Still…

After this, maybe they would leave him alone. He could help Llyr; his family would think he was finally getting his skin taken… Kelp worried his bottom lip, thinking it over. Should work fine – Llyr had no clue he was a selkie, his clan had no clue he was here of his own volition. When Llyr no longer needed his help, he would leave and that would be that.

Except he didn't want to leave.

Well, that had very little to do with it. Llyr was only being nice because he needed the help. Once the cabin was fixed…

Kelp preferred not to think about it.

Sitting down, he poked morosely at the fire.

"Did you sleep well?"

He dropped the stick he'd been holding, that voice running through him in evil, delicious ways. It was even rougher laced with sleep; Kelp had never heard anything like it. He looked up and blinked, struggling to remember how to speak. The sight of a groggy, sleep-tousled Llyr was making that pretty much impossible.

Llyr's mouth quirked in a smile. "Did you sleep well?" he asked again.

Kelp flushed. "Yes," he muttered. "You seem rested."

"Quite, though I miss my bed. Twenty seven is too old to sleep on the sand."

"My uncle is over fifty and he still sleeps out on the sand," Kelp replied. "It drives my aunt crazy." Most of the clan slept that way; it was safer to sleep in their skins piled together on the beach – but a few preferred proper houses, especially the old, which was why his aunt got so exasperated.

Llyr looked at him oddly. "You have family, but no one is worried about you going missing?"

Kelp shrugged, looking away. "I'm a black sheep. They're used to me vanishing."

"Mm," Llyr said. "The fish looks good. Did you stay up late cooking it?"

"Didn't take that long," Kelp replied. He preferred to do the bulk of his sleeping during the really hot midday anyway. "Eat up. What are we going to do today?"

Llyr wasted no time in helping himself to the fish, devouring nearly all of it in what seemed like mere seconds. "You're really good at this."

"I like fish," Kelp said with a shrug. He liked a few human things too, but getting them of course required dealing with people, so he rarely ate anything beyond fish and the occasional squid. He handed over what remained of the fish, smiling faintly when Llyr made short work of it.

"Now I'll never be able to eat my own cooking," Llyr said with a smile. "I can catch'em, but that's about it." He stood up, stretching with a groan, joints popping in his spine and neck.

Even as ragged as he looked from the long night yesterday, sleeping in the sand…Kelp struggled to keep his hands to himself.

"I'm going to go for a quick swim," Llyr said. "Then I guess we'd better figure out how exactly we're going to rebuild the cabin."

Kelp nodded, and hastily found other things to do so as not to humiliate himself more than he already had by watching Llyr swim. He cleaned up the campsite and disposed of the remains of the fish. It was too bad he hadn't really planned for this, he would have carried extra clothes along. Oh, well. He'd wait some night until Llyr had gone to sleep, then wash what he had.

There really wasn't much left of the cabin. They'd have to start more or less from scratch, and very little of the debris had proven salvageable.

He looked up at the sound of splashing to see Llyr wading out of the water.

Was the blasted human torturing him on purpose? Kelp wanted to scream or groan in frustration, and wished miserably there was something he could do about it. Something other than lick the drops of water from that skin or remove the tightly clinging trousers that had been cut short and rolled to just below Llyr's knees, which he knew he couldn't do but oh how he wished.

Llyr seemed not to notice, his eyes on where his cabin had once been. "We're going to need new lumber, that's for certain. Best bet, unfortunately, is to go to the mainland. That'll take a few days." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, tousling it even more.

It made Kelp want to smile for some reason, and then go over and smooth his hair back down. He stood up and brushed sand from his clothes. "I'm sure someone in the village has a larger boat you can borrow, to haul it all back."

"Probably," Llyr said with a grimace. "I'd still rather take mine, though it'll be hard getting all that lumber back.

Kelp nodded. "Do you want help going to get it, or should I stay here and clean up more?"

"If you're really willing to help," Llyr said, "you can come with me. That's the hardest part of the whole thing. When we get back, the rest won't be so bad."

"I'm willing to help," Kelp said. "Don't worry about it."

Llyr gave him a look Kelp didn't understand, then nodded and turned away. "Let's get going, then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get back. Did my water skins make it?"

They worked quickly to get ready, and in less than an hour were pushing away from the pier.

The mainland was northwest of the island, and given that Llyr lived on the southernmost tip of the island, it was a long trek even in the small but sturdy fishing boat.

Silence reigned for the first part of the trip, but it didn't feel wholly awkward for all that Kelp wished he could chat and flirt the way his family did. Hearing their stories, it always sounded so effortless.

At times he wondered if he really was a selkie.

"So are you from the mainland?" Llyr asked. "You never did say."

Kelp shrugged.

Llyr's mouth quirked. "Alright, I can finally take a hint. No personal questions. What else can you do besides cook fish extremely well?"

"Swim. Fish." Kelp shrugged again. "That's about it, really."

A soft, easy chuckle washed over him. "I doubt that, but alright." Llyr messed with the sail a bit, then moved to sit next to him. "Do you work somewhere? You don't seem the type to have a well to do family." He smiled. "They all have attitude problems."

Kelp's lips twitched, thinking of those of the clan who took overgenerous 'payment for their services' when they finally got bored and retrieved their skins to return home. Selkie seldom bothered with anything as tedious as honest work – something else that separated him from the rest, when he occasionally helped out the fishermen in the village or even more rarely got work on the mainland.

Thankfully he very rarely needed money.

"Odd jobs," he said, hating to avoid answering every question put to him. How was he supposed to learn anything about Llyr if he didn't say anything about himself?

He stubbornly ignored the little voice that said he should mention he was a selkie. What good would that do? It was bad enough he wasn't attractive or anything. To have Llyr compare him to the rest of the clan?

No way.

"Well, if you can cook other things as well as you cook fish, you should be in a tavern or inn somewhere," Llyr replied.

Kelp shrugged again, feeling stupid that he could not think of anything better to say, feeling his cheeks heat. "I work in taverns occasionally, but not often." He hated all the people, having to smile and talk and act like it wasn't driving him crazy and always worried about his skin even if he knew very well no one had any interest in him.

"I'm impressed you can work in them at all," Llyr said. "I only pop into one tavern every few months. That's why I have my little cove. No one bothers me." He smiled in a way Kelp didn't understand. "Though I don't mind you."

"Um—that's good." Kelp ducked his head again, wishing he could just cut his tongue out or something.

Llyr chuckled softly and moved back to the sail. "Nearly there now."

They reached the mainland in early afternoon, and with little incident. Kelp could feel his tension growing but tried to tamp it down, focusing only on the fact that he was with Llyr, his fisherman who finally had a name.

It was surreal, like he was going to wake up any minute.

The afternoon was spent obtaining lumber and other goods. It was strange to see how fiercely Llyr could argue, how loud he could get, when until recently Kelp had never even heard him speak. This Llyr on the mainland was nothing like the quiet one he stole glimpses of back on the island.

When Llyr was finally satisfied, and had arranged to pick up his lumber in the morning, he led the way back onto the streets, wending his way with a startling familiarity through the town.

Kelp knew he occasionally went to the mainland, he'd once caught a glimpse of him while working for a local fisherman, but…

Well, it only made everything even more surreal.

They stopped abruptly in front of an inn that Kelp didn't recognize, except in passing. It had a fat red fish painted on the sign hanging above the door. "Ever been here?" Llyr asked.

"No," Kelp said, shaking his head. "Seen it."

"Until recently, I thought they made the best fish in the area." He smiled and pushed the door open, leading the way inside.

He wasn't sure how to take the continued comments on his cooking. It really wasn't that special – half the clan could cook better than he when they felt like doing it. Still, it was kinda nice to hear. Maybe he could get the stuff to make…

Shaking his head at his stupid thoughts, Kelp followed Llyr inside.

It smelled delicious inside. Chowder and frying fish, potatoes and tea, something fruity he couldn't quite place. Even the odor of humans after a day's work could not overpower the more pleasant scents.

Llyr finished speaking with a woman at the front desk, then motioned to him, leading the way through the crowded dining room to a table in the back corner. "Anything you particularly like or don't like?"

"I like it all, really," Kelp said, murmuring a quiet thanks as a waitress appeared with a pot of tea and some chipped but sturdy cups.

She smiled at them. "Llyr, long time no see. Who's your cute friend?"

"This is Kelp," Llyr said. "He's helping me build a new cabin. The latest storm destroyed mine."

The young woman winced. "Ouch. I'm glad you're alright, though." She smiled. "And you do have rather some cute help, eh?"

"Eh," Llyr agreed with a laugh. "Bring me my usual."

She nodded. "Kelp, what would you like?"

"Fish and chips," Kelp said.

"Oh, good choice. Back in a bit. Oh, yeah. Mistress said your room is ready whenever you want it. Baths aren't too crowded right now, either." She laid a key down on the table and then darted away to tend other tables.

Kelp stared hard at the table, cheeks hot. The woman had called him cute. Twice. That meant…what exactly? And had Llyr agreed? What did that mean?

"So how did you come by the nickname Kelp?" Llyr asked.

"I used to think it was funny as a kid to grab the kelp that washed up on the beach and throw it at people." Also the others had said washed up kelp was what he most strongly resembled. "By this point, it's sort of weird when anyone uses my real name. I don't even answer to it."

Llyr nodded. "Kelp is cute, anyway, it sort of suits in that."

Kelp flushed, daring a brief look up, but his gaze quickly skittered away again. "It's just a name."

"Hmm," Llyr said noncommittally. "So what sort of jobs do you usually pick up?"

"Mostly fishing," Kelp replied. "Cooking, sometimes."

Llyr smiled. "You have no one to go home to? Who tries to keep you in the kitchen?"

Kelp laughed. "No."

"I find that hard to believe," Llyr replied. "Seems to me anyone with intelligence would try to keep you in one of two places at all times."

Before Kelp could figure out what that meant, or work up the nerve to ask, the waitress reappeared with their food.

The food vanished quickly, as did the tea their waitress kept generously topped off. By the end of it, Kelp wanted to curl up for a long nap. He fought a yawn, but it slipped out anyway, and he flushed when Llyr laughed in that gentle way of his, so unlike the mocking laughter of his family.

"I think baths and naps are definitely in order," Llyr said, standing up and tossing a few coins down on the table. "Come on."

Kelp nodded and followed him, feeling sort of guilty that Llyr had paid for the food – well, he could pay for the room in the morning, or at least part of it.

"Don't even think about it," Llyr said, startling him. "I can see the look on your face. You're helping me for no good reason; you're not paying for anything."

"But—"

A rough finger pressed against his lips, and Kelp went still from surprise.

Llyr smiled and let his finger fall away. "That's more like it."

Kelp scowled as his back as Llyr turned away, pretty certain the man had somehow cheated but not quite certain how. He followed Llyr to the back of the inn, out across the yard to the bathhouse.

It was crowded inside, one of the reasons he hated these public baths. He cleaned himself as quickly as possible, anxiously watching the changing area where his rucksack was tucked away. No one wanted his skin, or would find it, but he couldn't help worrying about it.

Finally clean, he changed into the garments he'd picked up during their shopping. Old, faded, but still good – and clean, which was really all that mattered to him. Dressed, he waited outside.

He choked when Llyr finally appeared – always he'd seen Llyr in the cove, naked or barely dressed, usually unshaven, hair a mess. Llyr all cleaned up and shaved and fully dressed was something else entirely. His fingers twitched, wanting to know what those smooth cheeks felt like, to comb through the neatly brushed hair.

"All clean?" Llyr asked. "Want a nap, or are you feeling awake again?"

Kelp shrugged, not really trusting himself to speak.

"Let's go for a walk, hmm? Find something sweet to finish off our meal."

Still not trusting himself, Kelp nodded.

Gentle laughter washed over him again, and he stifled a sigh as he followed Llyr back through the inn and out onto the street. Someone jostled him, making him stumble – but Llyr steadied him, and Kelp could not help but feel every last bit of the way his hand slowly slid away again.

It was going to be a long afternoon. Life would have been so much easier if he'd just stuck to his illicit glimpses – but he couldn't have left Llyr buried by his cabin.

Oh, well. At least he'd have all these up close images and touches and scents to remember later.

"Any treats of which you're particularly fond, Kelp?" Llyr asked.

Something in his voice made Kelp look up, and he flushed at the…the something in those green eyes. "Um—not really?" He thought there probably was something, but looking at Llyr right now he wasn't sure he could remember his own name.

Calloused but gentle fingers reached up to lightly stroke his cheek, and for the first time Kelp noticed there weren't really other people around on the street. "No?" Llyr asked softly. "Tell me, Kelp. How is it you have obviously been noticing me, but I have never seen you?"

Kelp swallowed. "No one sees me."

A thumb brushed over his lips, those green eyes blazing as they seemed to absorb him. "That is very foolish of us."

"Um—" Kelp abruptly found himself cut off by the very last thing he'd ever really expected – Llyr was kissing him.

Really and truly kissing him.

How many times had he seen the others kiss each other? Kiss humans? He'd always felt painfully left out, not least of all because he had no desire to kiss or be kissed by any of them.

His fisherman, however…

Pushing up on his toes, Kelp threw his arms around Llyr's neck and held fast, shyness buried by a need to get as much as he could before it was all taken away, before Llyr came to his senses.

He tasted vaguely fishy, but mostly just like the sea, and that was perfect because the only thing better than the ocean was Llyr.

Hands smoothed up his sides, around to his back, one sliding low while the other moved up to sink into his hair, tilting his head just so and then the kiss grew deeper, surer, and Kelp whimpered into it, mimicking all that Llyr did, hoping fervently he wasn't messing up.

"Sweet indeed," Llyr murmured when he finally broke the kiss, and the huskiness to his voice made Kelp shiver. "How did I get lucky enough to be rescued by you, Kelp?"

Kelp shook his head, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to get one word out, let alone answer a question.

Llyr chuckled softly. "Is this really what you want, Kelp? A crusty fisherman?"

Nodding, Kelp clung tightly to Llyr and dragged his head back down, shyly but determinedly initiating another kiss.

If this was how the rest of the clan felt with the humans they let steal their skins, it was no wonder they did it so often.

Except even now he recoiled at the idea of anyone else taking his skin. He wished he could give his skin to Llyr, and tell him the truth, but—

Pointless. Kelp let his thoughts slide away as the kisses grew hotter, Llyr's hands bolder, and by the time they made it back to their room at the inn, his thoughts had finally given up entirely.

*~*~*

Kelp hummed happily as he stood knee deep in the water, soaking and cleaning his skin. In the past few weeks it had lain neglected, unneeded as he spent his days and nights with Llyr. Nor did it help that he had to wait until really late to wash it while Llyr slept.

The new cabin was a vast improvement on the old one, and Kelp thought it the most amusing thing ever to watch Llyr fuss and preen over it – and of late, he'd even started teasing him about it, which always led to their testing out the new bed made from left over lumber.

His cheeks heated anew and his humming tapered off as he simply stood smiling at the water and his soaking skin.

Not in a thousand years had he actually thought…but for six weeks now they'd been together. The only black spot was that he still could not muster up the nerve to tell Llyr what he really was.

He wouldn't care, surely he wouldn't…

Every time he thought he could try, one of his siblings would pop up and he'd feel miserable all over again. He wasn't them, even if Llyr made it clear he found Kelp plenty interesting.

Plus, by this point he was lying, or at least keeping a secret, neither of which would go over well with Llyr.

Sighing, Kelp went back to furiously scrubbing at his skin, feeling ashamed that he'd let it get so dirty and ragged. What happened when this all finally ended and he had to go back to his normal life? It would be all the worse for letting his skin fall into disrepair.

The sound of feet on sand brought his head up, and he froze in fear, scrambling to think what he would tell Llyr—

"Oh," he said flatly. "It's you." He dropped his skin, hoping she hadn't seen it, heart beating rapidly in his chest. Oh, if they found out he was here of his own free will…

His sister smiled mockingly. "It's me. So I finally get back from staying with a rather amusing human and what do I hear? That the crusty fisherman has at last stolen a skin – and my little brother's no less. You must be proud, little brother."

"Go away."

"I'm proud of you," his sister continued, unfazed. "Certainly you could have chosen better, but I guess we all have to start somewhere."

Kelp hunched his shoulders and stared at the sand. "He's a good guy," he said quietly. "Better than all the humans you play with."

His sister sniffed. "He can't be that good if he's lousy enough to steal a skin for help and sex."

Kelp flushed. "It's not like that!" he said hotly.

Laughter, loud and mocking, rippled across the beach. "You are silly, Kelp. Mother and father would be dismayed to hear of you acting with such naiveté."

"I don't care," Kelp muttered, wishing she'd just go away.

"Speaking of mother and father, they want to know when you're coming home. I'm sure this is exciting for you, being your first human and all, but really – six weeks is a bit much, Kelp."

Kelp glared. "Go away!" he snapped. "I—"

"Kelp?"

He froze, going cold, and turned to see Llyr standing in his rolled up pants but otherwise bare, hair going in every direction.

Llyr, however, wasn't looking at him, but at his sister. "You're a selkie," he said coldly, a tone Kelp had never heard from him before.

"That's right," his sister replied, voice just as cool.

"Your kind has no business being on my part of the island. I've no interest in the games you play with humans. What are you doing here?"

His sister's brows went up. "Visiting my little brother."

Llyr went still, then slowly turned to look at Kelp. "What?"

"Um. I can—"

He never got the words out, his sister's high, mocking laughter cutting them off, filling the beach. "You didn't know?" she asked, all but doubled over with amusement. "Kelp, you're staying willingly? Oh, my. Wait until I tell everyone. Here we thought you finally had your skin taken."

"What?" Llyr repeated, still speaking with that awful cold tone. It was too dark to see his eyes, but Kelp knew they'd be dark green and as hard as that voice. "You're a selkie?"

"Yes," Kelp said miserably.

"You told them I'd stolen your skin?"

"Yes." Kelp replied, staring at the dark water, the choppy reflection of the moon in it. "I wanted to—"

"So was this all just another selkie game?" Llyr demanded, interrupting him.

Kelp's head jerked up. "What? No."

His words were undermined by his sister, who was still cackling.

He looked at her, then at Llyr's cold, angry face, and felt his heart break, the pieces sinking to settle like dead weight in the pit of his stomach.

Obviously it was over.

Turning, Kelp grabbed up his skin and threw himself into deeper water, sliding into the skin and swimming as fast as he could for the open sea, wondering where he was supposed to go.

*~*~*

Kelp flopped down on the bank of the river with a long groan.

His body hurt. He'd forgotten just how much he hated tavern work and how draining it was. He'd thought the aches and exhaustion would ease after the first couple of weeks, but seven weeks in and it was worse than ever. He wished he could just hire onto a fishing boat, but so far inland that was impossible.

Angrily he turned his thoughts away from fishermen, and dragged himself far enough down the bank he could put his feet in the cold river water.

Fresh water. He grimaced. Nothing compared to the sea…but he couldn't bear being close to the sea. He hated being so far from it, but being close was even worse.

Still, he hated this town. It was grungy and dirty and inlanders were so different from the people on the coast. It was like being in a different world. People here rarely ate fish, and though he was getting pretty good at all the other stuff, it wasn't even remotely the same.

He'd get used to it eventually though. Surely he would.

Just because the minute he let his guard down all he could think about was Llyr…

That expression on his face. That cold tone of voice. Oh, he'd known he'd get in trouble for hiding he was a selkie but he hadn't known Llyr would act that way. That he hated selkie… He'd always been afraid to tell the truth because he knew Llyr would compare him to the rest of the clan. It had never occurred to him that Llyr would hate him.

Kelp sighed and curled up so that he could trail his hands in the water alongside his feet, pillowing his chin on his knees. Maybe he should just start moving again, find better freshwater or a different ocean.

Maybe if he went far enough, he'd stop thinking about everything that had made him run away. Maybe he'd even forget about Llyr, or get too busy to think about him…

He laughed bitterly. Maybe he'd stop being ugly, too.

Llyr hadn't seemed to think he was ugly…but it didn't matter, because he was a selkie and that was apparently worse.

At times he thought he'd go to the ends of the world if it meant he'd stop hurting all the time. What did he have to do before he finally stopped thinking constantly about Llyr?

His stupid family certainly wasn't worth thinking about. It was his fault he was in this mess and he knew that, but his stupid sister—

He broke the thought off with a tired sigh and pulled his feet from the water, reaching half-heartedly for his skin. The river wasn't deep enough for a proper swim, and he detested the fresh water, but pure habit forced him to keep the skin in good repair.

It was, after all, the only thing he had left. He was an ugly, unwanted selkie, but a selkie all the same.

His eyes stung as he lowered the skin in the water, and he rubbed angrily at them before setting to cleaning his skin with a vengeance. It badly needed saltwater, as did he, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Maybe he really should consider finding a different ocean. Maybe it would smell different than the cove, the island. Maybe it wouldn't make him think of everything he'd left.

He doubted it, but anything was possible.

Laying his skin out on the bank, he stripped out of his clothes and went for a quick swim and bath.

By the time he was finished, he was shivering hard, teeth chattering. He hated being inland. Everything was cold, from the water to the people. It wasn't like the island at all. Even his stupid family tended to be warmer than everyone here.

Sighing, he folded up his dried skin and packed it away in the rucksack he'd bought after fleeing the island. His old one was still with Llyr…assuming Llyr hadn't thrown it away. Kelp swallowed, throat tight. Had Llyr gotten rid of every last trace of him?

He remembered how Llyr had insisted on building a bigger bed than the one he'd had before, the way he'd laughed when Kelp hadn't immediately caught on as to why – his own happiness when he had caught on.

How many times they'd 'tested' it.

Was someone else in his place now? Or was Llyr back to his solitary life, happy to have a lying selkie out of it?

Kelp swore softly at himself and tried to turn his thoughts to what he would have to get at the market before going to work.

By the time he reached the house where he boarded, night had fallen and he thought he might finally be tired enough to sleep.

A single candle lit one window, which was odd, because his landlady tended to be pretty stingy with them.

The landlady stood waiting for him when he stepped inside, as stern and stiff as always. "You have a guest," she said, disapproval that he would receive visitors so late thick in her voice. "See that you keep it quiet, and that he does not stay too long."

"Of course," Kelp said, wondering who in the world would be coming to see him so late. A customer? They'd never come here before, though. Maybe that woman who kept inviting him over to meet her daughter…

Frowning, he strode to the front parlor and pushed the door open – and faltered to a stop.

His hair was neatly trimmed and shorter than usual, he looked skinnier than ever, which shouldn't have been obvious beneath all the clothes he wore but was. The clothes themselves were strange – Llyr never wore more than his old, rolled up pants if he could possibly help it. Now he was in proper trousers and shirt, even a light jacket and sturdy boots.

Kelp swallowed and stumbled back as Llyr saw him, wincing when his head connected with the doorframe.

Then Llyr was close and the door was being closed and he felt totally trapped. He looked at the floor. "What do you want?" he asked, hating that he couldn't manage the cold tone that had been used on him.

"Kelp…"

Oh, that soft tone made him want to look up so bad. He wanted to feel arms wrap around him and be told he never had to leave them again – but he couldn't forget that angry, almost hateful expression. "How did you find me?" Why did you bother, he wanted to ask, but didn't.

"After I figured out you must have gone inland, it wasn't hard," Llyr replied. "It sounds like you're making a name for yourself as a cook."

Kelp shrugged.

Llyr sighed softly. "You won't even look at me. I can't blame you, but I'd rather not apologize to the top of your head…"

Apologize? Kelp cautiously looked up.

Now that he was closer, it was painfully obvious just how awful Llyr looked. He was far too thin, and looked as though he hadn't slept for days. Some small part of him tried to be pleased about that, but Kelp simply couldn't be. Despite everything, he still cared way too much about his fisherman. Well, Llyr wasn't his anymore, if he ever had been. It wasn't fair.

"That's better," Llyr said, smiling weakly. "I'm sorry, Kelp. More sorry than I can ever express. The minute you ran off I knew how badly I'd messed up."

Kelp shrugged and dropped his gaze again. "I should have told you," he said quietly. "I just…" His shoulders hunched. "I didn't know you hated selkie."

Llyr sighed. "I don't. They anger me, because I've heard them brag about the way they trick and seduce and play with humans. At first I thought that's what you'd been doing – playing with me. But I realized almost immediately how stupid that was. Too late, though. You were already gone."

Silence fell, and Kelp wondered what the point of all this was. "I hope my sister didn't bother you too much," he finally said. "She's annoying."

"Extremely," Llyr said sourly. "I'm afraid I still don’t think highly of the rest of your family. It took me a week just to get information about you out of them. How did you turn out so different?"

Kelp recoiled. "I don't know. I just am."

Hands landed gently on either side of his face, cupping it, and forced him to look up. "I think it's a good thing, Kelp." Oh, those eyes were even greener than he'd remembered, and still made it so hard to look away. "Please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted the way I did."

"You were so cold," Kelp replied, the words barely more than a whisper.

"I was stupid. I've hated myself ever since you fled. The cove feels empty without you. I feel empty without you. Isn't there anyway I can convince you to come back?"

Kelp wanted nothing more than to say yes, to throw himself into Llyr's arms and kiss him until they were both breathless. "Even though I'm a selkie? And I don't look anything like the other ones?"

"I never thought they looked interesting, Kelp. Anyway, there are hundreds of them. There's only one of you." The hands on his face slid away, sliding to his shoulders for a moment before pulling away completely. "Please, Kelp?"

Oh. Only one of him didn't sound so bad when Llyr said it that way.

Knowing it was pointless to try and speak, Kelp settled for doing exactly what he wanted, launching himself into Llyr's arms and leaning up for a kiss that Llyr met halfway.