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When they first met, the selkie had tried to kill Smith.
Smith found they could still breathe under the sea, albeit barely, as the salt stung and burned their throat. Instinctively the kelpie gulped the water, to chase the relief that should come with it. But what they swallowed was not river water and their lungs just burned more as they filled with tangy sea water.
They felt they might actually drown.
Smith thrashed against the hold the selkie had on them. They managed to wriggle free enough to land a kick on the selkie’s stomach, causing him to release his grip on Smith. Smith swam up and broke the surface of the water, taking in gasps of breath, glad to breathe air over water for once.
The selkie was back on them in an instant. Strong hands clamped down on Smith’s shoulders, the selkie’s skin coming with them. It rippled wildly in the undertow of the waves, like it was sentient and threatened to swallow Smith whole.
Smith yelled and struggled to break free again, but the selkie brought his face close to Smith. Up close, Smith could see how the selkie’s skin was dappled.
“Why won’t you die?” The selkie hissed. Smith thought he would dunk them under the water again, but he shoved them away before the selkie could. After Smith found their balance in treading water, they looked up to see the selkie peering at his hands that had come away sticky from Smith’s body.
Smith watched as the selkie brought up his hands and sniffed them. “You’re…” The selkie wrinkled his nose, “... not human.”
Smith laughed despite the fact that the selkie just tried to drown them, but immediately regretted it when their throat hurt. They settled for grinning smugly. “You tried to drown a kelpie, how did you really think this would work out?”
“Kelpies are not one of the sea,” the selkie said, as he tried to ignore Smith's staring at his face. “I could drag you out deeper and see how well you fare.” He made motions to grab Smith again, but the kelpie frantically paddled backwards just out of reach.
“All I did was ask for a quick fuck!” Smith shouted hoarsely.
“You asked the wrong selkie.” The selkie replied flatly. “I’m not interested in those kind of affairs.”
“So you’re trying to drown me for it?” Smith panted. Smith tried not to think about how tired treading the surf was making them.
The selkie grinned wide, flashing his teeth. “No, my stomach is a bit rumbly and I have a craving for non-seafood tonight.”
He let out a loud bark of laughter at how fast Smith swam backwards towards the shore, but he did not go after the kelpie.
---
The second time they met, the moonlight was bright.
Smith stepped down to the beach for the third time that night. They had been coming here for several days now, hoping to meet the selkie again. Why they want to see someone that tried to drown them before, they didn't know.
They were following the river back upstream when they stopped and looked back. Before, Smith had come down to where the river meet the sea because they wondered if it would feel the same as it did back home.
This time, something else pulled them back, and they found themselves walking back down the riverside, towards the seashore again.
Smith was wondering if selkies even came back to the same beach more than once, when they spotted a figure sitting atop the rocky outcrop near where the selkie had tried to drown them last week.
When Smith approached, the figure half-turned, saw Smith, then turned back to stare out at the sea. "What brings you back here?" The selkie asked, sounding weary.
Smith hesitated for a moment, before they replied, "Looking for you, mate. Been coming down here every night."
The selkie shifted on the rock to turn fully to look at Smith, confusion on his features. "Why? You want me to drown you?"
Smith shook their head, "No, just thought that maybe..." Smith rocked on their heels slightly. "What's your name?"
The selkie narrowed his eyes at Smith, then turned back to the sea again.
"I'm Smith, by the way." Smith tried.
The selkie ignored them, and Smith sighed.
"... Trottimus." The selkie answered just as Smith was about to walk away.
---
Their third meeting was at the outcrop again, the very next day.
Trottimus was waiting when Smith reached the outcrop, and Smith was glad, for they had asked to meet the selkie again.
As Smith came closer, their eyes were drawn to the scarring among the freckles on the selkie's face. They hadn’t noticed them until now.
The scars were old, almost faded but still noticeable, and they ran across the selkie's brow and right cheek. They looked like they were healed with magic, the tell-tale way of how the scars were formed noticeable to Smith’s trained eye. Healing magic accelerated the formation of scar tissue- but the scars were also much more easily torn. Smith had learned that from their grandma.
Trottimus growled, and Smith realised they had been staring. Smith snapped out of staring at more scars at where the selkie’s jaw and neck met, and saw him glaring at them.
Before Smith could say anything, the selkie got up and dove into the waves.
---
The next time they met, it was three days later.
Smith had been coming to the outcrop every day, and finally Trottimus showed up again. He was wearing a sling of rope around his chest, from which several fish and clams hung.
“Hey- look, I’m sorry about the other day.” Smith said. “For staring, I mean.”
Trottimus grunted and sat down, shrugging. “It didn’t bother me.”
“But you-”
“It’s fine.”
Smith tried not to repeat their mistake of staring again, but they couldn’t help but notice a new, fresher scar on the selkie’s brow.
Trottimus unslung his rope, pulled a fish from it, and held it out to Smith. “Salmon?”
Smith blinked at the fish, and Trottimus waved it impatiently at them. “River creature as you are, ever seen a fish before?”
“Course I have! I have eaten seafood before too!” Smith took the fish, and weighed it in their hand. It was indeed some sort of salmon, but smaller and lacking the pink-yellow hue that Smith was used to seeing on them. A younger salmon, Smith realised. They had never seen many of them upriver.
Smith looked up to see Trottimus deftly prying a clam open and scooping out the contents into his mouth.
Smith shifted closer to the selkie. “I’ve never tried that kind of clam before.”
---
Smith saw the selkie smile, a real smile that wasn’t the cruel grin of a predator.
Smith had cracked a joke, something about fish sleeping in a river bed, and the selkie’s mouth quirked upwards, and he laughed. The sound was musical, Smith saw the selkie’s sharp and salt-bleached teeth. One tooth was cracked.
It was a silly old joke, but the selkie had laughed. Smith grinned, “Hey, made you laugh, Trott.”
Trott seemed to sober up at that comment. He faked a cough and looked down at the fish he was descaling with his knife.
---
“The stories are true then?” Smith said conversationally.
“Hm?” Trott was picking at his selkie skin, examining it closely for minute parasites that he picked off.
“If I were to take your skin, you would follow me?” Smith asked.
Trott paused and looked up from his skin. “We wouldn’t be able to return to the sea...” He trailed off.
The selkie looked back down at his skin, but he seemed to have forgotten what he was doing.
---
Trott was uneasy.
He kept glancing back at the sea, and sat with Smith between him and the water, like he was afraid of it.
Smith turned around once and spotted some dark shapes bobbing on the waves. Smith raised an eyebrow at Trott, but the selkie would say nothing.
---
Smith’s curiosity got to them.
“Do you get them from hunting?” Smith asked, pointing to their own face in the spot where Trott’s scars were. There was another new scar on his neck. “Or those other-”
Smith clamped their mouth shut when Trott sent them an icy glare.
---
“What’s out there?” Trott asked quietly, pointing towards the trees with his chin.
Smith didn’t think of land as ‘out there’. ‘Out there’ was the sea. But Smith realised it would be the other way around for Trott.
Smith glanced briefly at where Trott was looking, and shrugged. “Land? Towns. Lakes. My home.” Home away from home, Smith thought to themself.
Trott hummed in thought, and stared inland rather than out to sea, his eyes observing the grass and trees, then following the river, up to the mountains.
Smith chewed the piece of jelly creature in their mouth. Trott had brought it for Smith to try, and he explained that selkies didn’t eat them for anything except for the nice, crunchy texture.
“Thinking of leaving the sea, are you.” Smith said to Trott’s back.
Trott leaned back on his arms to look at Smith. “Well, I just want to see more of the world, you know?”
---
It was several weeks later when they saw each other again. The moon was mostly hidden behind clouds, occasionally peeking out to cast pale light on the crests of the surf.
Trott had told Smith that he was going on a long hunting trip, and mentioned that he would be back by today. But he hadn’t shown up at their usual spot that morning. It’s wasn’t like they really had a set time for when they met, but Trott usually came in the morning and he had never failed to show up on a day he said he would visit. Smith had alternated between perching and pacing on top of the outcrop for the whole day, waiting for Trott. Smith grew more and more worried with each passing minute with no sign of the selkie anywhere.
Smith suddenly spotted something out at sea. Selkies. The bobbing forms were barely noticeable among the high, dark waves. If it wasn’t for their large, white tusks, Smith wouldn’t have spotted them.
The hunting group? Smith thought. The kelpie’s hope rose at the chance of seeing Trott again, until they realised what was happening out among the waves.
The selkies were surrounding something, crowding in, charging and pushing. The something in the middle fought back furiously, splashing the water in desperation. It was trying to head towards the shore.
Smith hurried to the edge of the outcrop, squinting to see what they were attacking. With a start, Smith realised the group of selkies were attacking one of their own. The selkie in the middle had half of their selkie skin pulled off, and they’re scratched and bleeding.
Smith bent his legs slightly, about to jump into the water, but hesitated. They weren’t sure if they should help, or stay out of selkie matters.
One of the assaulting selkies jumped on the one in the middle, pushing them down under the surface of the water. But the selkie managed to slip free, struggling towards the shore. They gasped as they pushed themselves towards the beach, still attacked by their brethren.
The selkie reached shallow waters, and Smith’s heart leapt to their throat when they realised who the selkie was- Trott.
The assaulting selkies followed Trott to the shallows and attempted to swipe at him. Blinded by panic, Trott wildly stabbed at them with his knife. When his knife sunk into one of them, they howled and the selkies retreated.
Trott splashed to the shore, collapsing at the edge of the water. Smith cursed at themself for not helping, hopping off the outcrop. They ran to Trott’s prone figure on the sand.
Smith dropped to their knees and laid a tentative hand on Trott’s shoulder. Trott jerked up springing for Smith's throat.
“Trott! Hey! It's me, Smith! Trott!" Smith yelled. Trott’s eyes widened in recognition and he released his hold on Smith's jacket to sink back down onto the sand.
Trott twisted around to glance around the beach and out to the sea. He flinched and snapped his head up when he heard the cry of seabirds, turning to search the sky. There was no sign of the other selkies, but Trott picked himself up and half-ran half-stumbled up the beach, away from the water. Smith ran after him.
As far from the water as his legs could carry him, Trott fell onto his knees on the sand. His skin was ruffled and torn in places. Smith realized the other selkies had tried to rip apart his skin, which would no doubt enable the other selkies to drag him under.
Trott pulled it tight around his body, shaking badly. Smith slowly approached Trott and placed a hand on the selkie's shoulder hoping it would be comforting. Trott flinched at the touch at first, but eventually he relaxed.
Smith looked around in vain for an idea of what to do. The dark beach and rocks and rotten seaweed didn’t give them an idea.
After a few minutes, Trott’s shaking seemed to subside slightly, though he was still breathing heavily. He was clutching his side, and Smith recalled how the other selkies had rammed into Trott.
Smith leaned down to look at Trott’s face, scarred and bloody and bruised. The fresher scars crossed over Trott’s fading ones, some had even reopened.
“Trott?” Smith whispered. Trott blinked up at Smith.
"They tried to drown me." Trott spat suddenly. Smith jumped but Trott took no notice. “I fucking knew they had it in for me.” He pushed himself off the sand, “Lung mites, the lot of them.” He stepped out of his skin, folded it and cradled it to his chest. “I hope they choke on fish thorns and rot in marine filth.”
Trott’s shaking was intensifying again, and he let out a choked sob.
Smith reached out an arm without thinking and pulled Trott to their chest. “Trott, Trott, it’s alright. I’m here.” Smith told him gently. “I’m here.”
Trott looked up at Smith with half-shut, bruised eyes. His lips quivered slightly before he gulped some deep breaths. “That’s it. You’re taking me with you,” Trott croaked. He fisted his hand in Smith’s jacket and buried his face in it. “Away from the sea. Away from the air that stings. I do not want to be here.”
Smith carefully took Trott’s hands, bloody and scratched from when Trott had defended himself from the attacks as best as he could. Smith frowned at the wounds, willing them to disappear.
But staring at Trott’s scars won’t heal them. Smith looked up at Trott’s face again, and he looked tired. Very, very tired.
Smith shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Trott’s shoulders. “I’m getting bored of watching the waves anyway, let me show you around inland instead.” Smith smiled softly. Trott wobbily smiled back, holding out his skin for Smith to take. Wordless with surprise, Smith took it.
Smith held Trott close as they led the way up to the edge of the beach, to follow the river inland. Trott has his hand clenched in the back of Smith’s shirt. His movements seemed sluggish, and leaned wearily on Smith.
Just before the sea went out of their sight, Trott halted and looked back. Bobbing in the water, by the outcrop they always met on, were several selkies. They seemed smaller than the ones from before, tusks only just budding from their cheeks. They watched Trott with watery eyes as they clung to the rocks, not daring to leave the sea. They seemed to notice Trott watching them. They called out to him, and their voices sounded despairing and pleading even though Smith didn’t understand the words. Smith saw Trott swallow.
He looked like he was going to bolt right back to the sea, but instead Trott gripped Smith’s shirt harder and wrenched his eyes away. He set his jaw. “There’s nothing for me there... There’s nothing to miss.”
Trott continued walking. Smith shifted Trott’s skin to their other arm and fell in step with him. Not looking back, they left the shore and the selkies behind.