A/N: Hello all, this is one of the plot bunnies that attacked me while I was supposed to be writing chapters for my already up stories. This is sort of a prequel or prologue for the main story so don't be surprised later of some characters don't get as much attention later on.
P.S. This story will have an OC!BWL but it's definitely NOT a WrongBWL story.
Dramatis Personae:
Ariadne Potter; Jsukkae of the Andaman Sea (fem!Harry) as the Sea Witch of questionable motivation
Sally-Anne Perks as the desperate Damsel of wavering rationality
Neville Longbottom as the cautiously concerned bystander
Cleodora of the River Somme as the well-intentioned observer
Sally-Anne was quite certain she had never felt as worn out and depressed as she did at that very moment. She sat slumped under a shady willow tree at the edge of the Black Lake and cast her forlorn gaze out across the dark water. Ignoring the gentle chattering and giggling of the nixies sunning themselves not far off from where she sat, her eyes searched the gentle waves with a fervid heat uncommon for a girl of her fifteen years and she released an aching sigh when the object of her desires remained absent.
Ever since her second year at Hogwarts, from the day she had stumbled upon the wonders of the Black Lake, Sally-Anne had been enthralled by the lake and the beautiful boy that lived within it. Or rather, not a boy but a magical creature that took the form of a boy; a selkie, as she had discovered his kind were called when she had scoured the magical creature section of the library after their first meeting. A mesmerizing selkie boy that had captivated her right from the beginning. From that chanced happening on, she made it into a habit to return to the lake whenever she could break away from schoolwork and friends. The sweet smile she received each time they met made all her troubles completely worth it.
It was in her third year that her troubles had really started. The electives all students were required to take began cutting into the time she usually spent at the lake, and the extra workload didn't help her middling grades in the least bit. She knew that her mother was concerned over her back-sliding grades (she had been concerned since Sally-Anne had given up her dance aspirations to pursue magic instead) and that her few friends were feeling neglected, but she couldn't bring herself to feel overly bothered by any of that.
While she had been lucky that she had already given up on the labor-intensive activity that was ballet when she came to Hogwarts, she still struggled to adjust all the extra assignments, all the while wishing she could just forget all about being a witch and just stay with Duncan forever. It was fortunate that she was not so silly as to forget that she had to remain a student at Hogwarts to be able to have access to the lake, else she would have decided that running away with her darling boy took precedence over being a fully-trained witch.
But really, you would think that she was gravely ill or mentally unstable with the way her dorm-mates and teachers looked at her with concern this year. Even with all the hullabaloo about the Triwizard Tournament, they looked at her as if it were any of their business what she did in her free time.
"Where do you always go?" that nosy gossip, Megan Jones, had asked only a few minutes earlier, when Sally-Anne broke off from the group at a fork in the hallways, as per usual, to enjoy her break period with Duncan, the dear boy that always looked fascinated by her homework, no matter what the subject. Jones' uncouthly loud question drew the attention of the rest of the Hufflepuff fourth years that took Arithmancy.
Sally-Anne could have slapped her.
"It's really none of your business," she replied shortly, not pausing in her stride in the opposite direction the others were walking. She heard a scoff as well as a muttered, "frigid bitch," but shoved any offense she could have taken completely out of her mind. This was her private time with the boy she adored; she wasn't going to let any petty school-girl and any potentially hurtful words take away from her happiness.
So there she was, free for a glorious hour, ready to bask in the peace and affection that filled her whenever she met with Duncan. But where was he? It was true that lately he had started showing up rather late, but she usually never had to wait more than five minutes or so before his head came poking out of the water, his infectious grin already sitting on his handsome face.
It had already been ten minutes.
"Where are you?" she whispered forlornly, letting her head fall back against the trunk of the tree she always sat under.
Duncan never showed up.
It had been a week and Duncan still had yet to return to their spot under the willow trees. Sally-Anne was ready to tear at her hair in worry and frustration. Where could he have gone? Why had he disappeared? That line of thought distracted her more thoroughly than she had previously been distracted before by day-dreams of spending days at a time at the lake. Sally-Anne had been steadfast in her returns to the lake, though each time she was met by absence, the heaviness of her despair weighed her down further.
She didn't know it, but her steady decline into depression, accompanied by the near tangible aura of her desperately heated need to be at the lake drew the attentions of several people she would not have expected. One of those unexpected people took the form of another lake-dweller that Sally-Anne had completely over-looked while in her frenzied hovering.
Cleo was a young nixie that came to visit the Black Lake to observe the Triwizard Tournament, one of the many water beings that had decided to take advantage of such a drawn out spectacle being hosted so conveniently near a large body of water. Her presence was easy to over-look among the exotic beings from all over the world that had flocked to the lake near Hogwarts when word had spread that the merrow there would be part of the Tournament as well. The lake was full to the brimming with creatures from the dangerous rusalkas, the Slavic succubus-like nymphs, to the serene ichthyocentaurs, the aquatic cousins of the centaurs. In such a crowd, a run-of-the-mill creature like a little nixie was the last thing on anyone's mind.
Cleo had been taking advantage of the lack of expectations anyone had for her, spending the time awaiting for the start of the Tournament by sunning herself on the rocks near the shore and amusing herself with her sisters. It was while she had been relaxing one day by herself that she noticed the curious matter that was the blonde girl that haunted a cozy section of the shoreline with all the religious passion of a sailor's wife praying for her husband's safe return.
Cleo knew all about the plight of heart-broken sailor's wives; her cousins that swam the length of the Atlantic told tales of how they had lured several inconstant husbands to their watery deaths. But what business did a young witch-in-training, not even of marriageable age, have wearing such a piteous expression on her face?
Curiosity getting the better of her, the young nixie shimmied off the rock she had been strewn across and returned to the water with a quiet plop. Submerging herself until only the top of her head and her eyes remained above water, Cleo peeked around the rock to see if her movement caught the attention of the witch by the shore. She was both relieved and disappointed that she remained unacknowledged.
She drifted over to the pacing figure cautiously, knowing better than to startle a witch, lest she be magicked most unpleasantly. Those Atlantic cousins of her were most descriptive in their tellings of how many an angered widowed witch came seeking revenge for their late husbands and were wily with their wands. Cleo eased up upon one of the large boulders near where the witchling paced, that sat half in the water and out of it, quietly announcing her presence.
The other girl's attention was swiftly captured, a painfully hopeful expression on her face when she looked up to see who had approached her. The look of crushing disappointment made Cleo feel guilty as well as a bit offended. Really now, she realized that the other girl was likely hoping for someone else, but that was no reason to look so heartbreakingly dismayed at the sight of Cleo.
"Why do you make such a face?" Cleo asked straight out, cocking her dripping head in question. She pulled herself further up on the mossy boulder, her amphibious skin gleaming brighter than a human's would in the afternoon light.
Sally-Anne wasn't sure what to make of the naked girl laying on the rock before her. Generally speaking, she wasn't comfortable with nudity, especially other people's nudity in front of her. Nudity of strangers prancing around outside for all the world to see was also something she was uncomfortable with. However, she could tell by the way the girl's dark hair tinged green in the light, how her irises were larger than a normal persons', and how her fingers were slightly webbed, that she was not dealing with another human being and therefore didn't have to feel as awkward as she would have if the other girl was another student.
That was not to say that Sally-Anne wasn't feeling off-balanced and self-conscious at being addressed by a random person that appeared out of nowhere and seemed perfectly comfortable in striking up a conversation while clad only in her – admittedly beautiful – skin. She was both impressed and unsettled by the lack of modesty.
"I'm sorry?" Sally-Anne asked, not understanding why this creature was talking to her.
Cleo shook her head. "No apologies. You are free to make whatever faces you want. I simply want to know why you appear so disheartened."
Sally-Anne grew more uncertain at the strangely formal way the other girl was speaking. She would have thought that a magical being would have trouble speaking English, like her Duncan, not be surprisingly well-spoken. She cast around for a reply that didn't reveal her unease. She finally settled on, "Why do you ask?"
The being – some kind of nymph, maybe? She didn't have a fish tail so she couldn't be a mermaid – replied, "I have enjoyed the sun not far off from this spot for many days now and I have noticed that you return to this spot often. I saw that you seemed ill at ease and worried, and I could not help but wonder what misfortune had befallen you that you appear so ill-used."
Sally-Anne's cheeks burn at the thought that her frantic hovering hadn't been as private as she had believed. The nymph said that she had been sitting just a few yard off and Sally-Anne hadn't even noticed her? Who else could have watched her pitiful pining?
At the other girl's inquisitive look, Sally-Anne relented in her reticence and figured that a person to listen to her woes would do her some good. "I'm worried for my . . . friend. We usually meet right here during my breaks but I haven't seen him in a week! I really want to see him again but I can't . . ."
Cleo managed to look sympathetic while also being intrigued. So there was a missing lover involved? "Do you think he has drowned then? You look at the water ever so mournfully."
Sally-Anne shook out her pin-straight blonde hair. "Nothing like that. He lives in the lake. He can't drown. I'm worried something happened to him since he's never gone missing before."
How fascinating! "I had thought this matter was over another land-dweller. Do you mean to say that you are friends with a creature of this lake?"
"Yes." Sally-Anne paused before giving the other girl a speculative once over. "If it's not too much trouble . . . maybe you could look for him? His name is Duncan. I'd return the favor, of course."
Cleo shifted anxiously on her rock. Oh dear, She really did not want to make the poor girl feel even worse. "Normally, I would readily help," she started apologetically. "But I am merely visiting this lake; I am not at all familiar with its depths or its people. I wouldn't know where to look."
"Oh," Sally-Anne sighed, dismayed. There went that idea.
Cleo fidgeted unhappily at the resigned look on the witch-child's face. Perhaps it would have been better if she had quelled her curiosity and stayed away from the situation; she obviously did little else beyond depressing the other girl further. If only she could help. If only there was something she could do.
But what could she do? She only vaguely knew which direction the merrow and selkies made their villages and the names of her hosts' family. She knew more of her fellow visiting beings than anything about the Black Lake, and that was unlikely to be helpful since it was obvious that this Duncan person was a native.
Oh, what could she do? What could she – ?
A sudden thought struck Cleo and she gasped in happy realization. Of course!
Sally-Anne looked up at the gasp and took in with surprise the look of triumph that graced the other girl's face. She asked, "What is it?"
"Of course, of course! Why did I not think of it sooner?" Cleo beamed at the startled witch and leaned in eagerly to explain. "I believe I know of someone who will be able to help you! Indeed I'm quite certain that if there's anyone that can assist you, it is her."
Sally-Anne looked hopeful but also uncertain. "You know someone? And they'll help me find Duncan?"
"I'm sure of it! She's supremely capable. I'll fetch her right away!"
Sally-Anne glanced back a the castle with a cautious look a she said, "Wait a moment." She had class soon; she didn't have time to wait any longer that a handful of minutes for anyone. "I don't suppose whoever it is you're talking about can be brought here within five minutes?"
"Oh, no," Cleo replied. "The Lake is large; I know where she stays but I would need more time than that to retrieve her."
"How about this? I have classes only in the morning tomorrow, if you both could be here at this time tomorrow, I could meet you here. I'm Sally-Anne, by the way."
Cleo agreed with an earnest nod. "That is agreeable. Until tomorrow then. I am Cleodora of the River Somme." With a smooth dip, she slid back into the water and disappeared.
It was an odd feeling, waiting for someone who would possibly help you to find a missing person. She was more hopeful than she had expected to be considering she wasn't sure who she would be meeting, while at the same time dreadfully anxious that they would find Duncan not just missing but dead. Was this how families of the kidnapped felt? Sally-Anne's heart went out to them if it was.
She had all but outright ran from her last class, holding on to decorum just enough to not draw suspicions to what she was up to. It was Friday so everyone was too busy, caught up in the pre-week-end buzz to pay any mind to air-headed Perks when she was doing nothing exceptionally interesting. She had made it to her stretch of shore in record time and paced the length of beach that was empty besides herself. The lake creature would be there any minute.
Sally-Anne had been in such a distracted hurry that she didn't notice that the stretch of shore was not as empty of Hogwarts' students as she had assumed.
Just outside her view, on the other side of the boulders that sectioned off her stomping ground, Neville Longbottom had been wading in the water, collecting water flora. He had been startled by Perks' sudden and noisy appearance but maintained his silence when she didn't notice him.
He turned to return to what he had been doing since he was the sort that minded his own business when others obviously didn't want anyone prying. He would have left the Hufflepuff girl to her brooding if it hadn't been for the odd rippling in the water, signaling the approach of a large creature.
Neville made to shout a warning at Perks but his breath was stolen from him at the sight of what was emerging from the Black Lake.
It was not some man-eating monster as he had assumed, but rather a green-tinged nymph, sky-clad and smiling brightly, pulling up on a half-submerged rock, and waving at Perks. He blushed furiously at the sight of her naked body.
"Witch child!" She called cheerfully. Perks smiled a wobbling but sincere smile in return. "I have brought the one most likely to succeed in helping you!"
That was when another form broke through the water. The first thing Neville noticed was the long, dark, trailing hair that spread out through the water. The next thing he noticed was that that person was also completely naked and even more developed than the nymph, though her modesty was preserved by a necklace of mid-sized shells and her dark hair pulled in front of her as well. The final thing that he noticed ― the realization that made him gasp almost audibly ― were the muted lavender and periwinkle ringed tentecles that drifted idly around her, in the same manner as her hair.
Merciful Merlin! That was a cecaelia!
Sally-Anne was not as bothered as Neville was by the appearance of the cecaelia woman though she had been surprised by the tentacles. In Sally-Anne's mind, if there were people with fish tails, it was perfectly reasonable that there were people with octopus tentacles.
"H-hello," she said timidly, aware of how childish she looked next to two nude older women that were of species that capitalized on attractiveness. She felt like a pretty rock sitting next to precious stones.
The octopus woman pulled herself up on the rock nearest to the shore that Cleo had been reclining on and sat on it leisurely, dipping her head to the side in acknowledgement and smiling softly. Her voice almost sleepy as she replied, "I am Jshukkae of the Andaman Sea. Pleased to meet you."
Sally-Anne paused at the odd name. "Pardon?" she asked, letting a bit of confusion leak through. "Joo-kay?"
"Ah," the long haired woman huffed in a half laugh, brushing fringe from her eyes. Her amused smile made her look younger, less languid empress, more young lady. "Id forgotten how difficult the name was for Europeans to pronounce. Ari then."
"Ah, right then. Ari it is. Erm . . . " Sally-Anne felt suddenly awkward. "Do you . . . That is, did Cleo explain why I wanted to talk to you?"
"I did tell her," Cleo confirmed. "Indeed it took a goodly length to find her yester eve but never did I doubt that she would come."
"Very true. I heard the most unfortunate story of a young lady that needs help. Would you tell me what's happened in your own words?"
Sally-Anne then launched into her explanation of Duncan's missing status and why she was so worried, going into detail about how they had met and how long they had been seeing each other, just getting it all off her chest finally. All the while during the tale, the cecaelia did not once interrupt, her expression still vaguely dreamy but her eyes observant.
When Sally-Anne concluded her narrative, the sea creature now called Ari tapped her chin consideringly. "Would this Duncan of yours be the same Duncan of the Lake's southern pod? The pod leader's youngest son?"
The blonde girl blinked rapidly in surprise and confusion. "Pod leader's youngest son? Is that like a prince?"
"Something like that. Selkies aren't really the sort for royalty so it more of the son of the leader of a tribe. Sort of like the indigenous people of the Americas."
"So Duncan's some important person?" She wasn't sure how to feel about that. Had he been made to stay home by his family then?
"I would hardly know," Ari said with a self-depreciating shrug. "It's not as if Duncan is an exclusive name. It's possible there are several young men in the Lake named Duncan."
"So what should I do?"
"Hmmm." A lavender tentacle splashed at the water idly. "Well, as I see it, the quickest way to locate your young man would be for you yourself to go out and look for him. We don't know what he looks like and it would stir up trouble if we went about dragging away young men for you to have a look at them."
Sally-Anne's face fell. "There's no way I can go down into the Lake; I can't hold my breath any longer than two minutes and I'm not that strong of a swimmer."
An almost fond smile spread across Ari's face. "Why ever do you think I'm here? Poor assistance I would be if I couldn't overcome something so little." As Sally-Anne looked on uncomprehendingly, Ari tossed her hair in feigned exasperation ― much to the further embarrassment of the hidden Neville, his face resembling a tomato at the better view of her breasts. Ari continued, "The answer is simple! You've just got to become a selkie yourself!"
Cleo oohed at the idea and dawning comprehension alighted on Sally-Anne's face. But . . . was that even possible? She'd never heard of such magic! Surely Professor McGonagall would have mentioned the possibility of magical to magical transfiguration.
She asked hesitantly, "Can . . . can you do that?"
Ari appeared to misunderstand Sally-Anne's question, taking it for a question of willingness instead of possibility. "My dear, sweet girl! That's what I do; it's what I live for. To help unfortunate people like yourself: poor souls without no one else to turn to."
"I mean ― I mean, is it actually possible? I've never heard of magic changing a magical creature into another magical creature."
A mischievous gleam entered Ari's eyes. "I certainly can."
This was when Neville had finally psyche himself up enough to interfere as he had been building up to since he realized what Perks was doing. In a single bound he leaped out from behind the boulders he had been hidden behind, crying, "Don't do it, Perks!" Neville Longbottom was certainly a sight to behold with an impassioned look in his eyes and his hair all messy with leaves.
Cleo and Sally-Anne jumped and yelped at the sudden entrance, but Ari was unruffled, only lifting her brows in question.
"A friend of yours, darling?" Ari asked, looking over Neville speculatively.
"A classmate," Sally-Anne replied distantly, struck nearly dumb. She shook off her stupor and frowned at the boy. "What are you doing here, Longbottom?" Was everyone going to suddenly show up to witness her plight?
Neville's frantic visage was a far cry from his usual timidity. But just as suddenly as it came, Neville's ferocity faded as he realized he had just jumped in the middle of a group of partially dressed women, revealing that he had been eavesdropping on them. He nearly swooned as his face over-heated, but his determination to save Sally-Anne from her own ignorance had him persevering.
"D-don't do it, Perks," Neville repeated, a bit of pleading entering his tone. "You could lose your soul! You don't even know her!"
"Well," Ari huffed, sounding put out. "I see someone has jumped to conclusions."
"'Lose my soul'?" Sally-Anne echoed, looking nonplussed. She glanced at Cleo who looked just as gobsmacked. "She's not exactly the devil, is she? How would I even enter the position of losing my soul?"
Neville was distressed by the lack of gravity following his declaration. "She's a cecaelia! They're known for making deals that they end up on top of."
"Young man," Ari began mildly. "While your concern is rather cute, it's rude of you jumping to conclusions about me while knowing even less about me that Sally-Anne here. It also implies that you think she isn't capable of realizing when someone's trying to fool her."
"That's right!" Sally-Anne chimed in, hands on her hips. "And what business is it of yours if I do sell my soul? It's mine and I'll do whatever I want with it!" Pointedly turning her nose up, she turned back to Ari. "You were saying something about turning me into a selkie?"
"That's not possible!" Neville tried again. "You can't turn a wizard or witch into a magical creature! Our innate magic won't allow it!"
"Butt out, Longbottom!"
"Now, now, dears, let's not get worked up," Ari cooed. "If I'm understanding this correctly, you are confused about how I can change a witch into a selkie when the magic of those two things are completely different. Is that right?"
The two fourth-years nodded solemnly.
"Let me assure you then, I won't be messing about with anyone's core. Essentially, I'll just be shifting the physical properties to match that of a selkie, there won't be any mucking about with cores."
"So . . . So, basically I'll be a selkie with a witch's soul?" Sally-Anne asked.
"That sounds about right. I know a spell to turn you into a selkie for three days. That should be plenty of time to find your young man."
"Three whole days?" The weekend started tomorrow, if they did the spell right at that moment, she'd only miss her morning classes on Monday.
"Starting from moment of the spell," Ari confirmed. A lazy look that could have been interpreted as sly settled on the cecaelia's face as the blonde witch exchanged excited looks with Cleo. "Of course, there's one more thing . . . My fee."
Sally-Anne paused. "A fee?"
"Of course, dear. I'm not entirely sure how you wizard do it on land, but the magic I do requires exchanges. Balance and all that. Not to mention that a girl's got to make a living."
"Oh, but―" Sally-Anne grew worried. "But I don't have any―"
"Nonsense, pet, you have plenty of things worth a spell. It doesn't need to be money."
" . . . Are you actually going to take my soul then?"
Irritation leaked into her tone. "Don't be ridiculous, what would I even do with a soul? No." Ari gave cursory glance at the still distraught boy. "Abilities; talents; physical traits; treasured objects; a skill you're willing to part with maybe; some time off of your life-span or even a treasured memory. I'm not picky so long as its worth is equal to that of the spell."
Neville was finally assuaged as he heard the list of possible exchanges. It wasn't ideal, but really he had only been worried that the Hufflepuff girl would sell herself into slavery through ignorance of how sea-witches dealt.
Sally-Anne was stupefied by the list of possible exchanges. How was it even possible? She asked this out loud.
"Trade secret, pet," Ari dismissed with a waved hand. "What will you give me then?"
"Ummm . . . what would be enough?"
Ari donned a professional mien. "For three days of a physical transformation along with the abilities to breath and speak underwater? I'd usually ask for a major physical trait, like your voice, but since that's not likely something you'd part with for any reason, given your species' need to vocalize your magic, I'll settle for two days off your life-span and a favoured physical ability like a beautiful singing voice."
Two days off her life sounded vaguely terrifying but was actually unimportant; wizards lived so much longer than muggles that a couple of days barely mattered. But an ability like singing? Sally-Anne didn't really have any of those. Did folding origami count? That didn't sound as worthwhile as singing though.
Then it struck her: dancing! She had been on her way to a ballet school when Hogwarts came calling and the skills were still there. It was perfect. She had already given up dancing for magic so it wouldn't be a big loss if she traded the ability away now!
Sally-Anne smiled. "I'm a very good dancer, I can dance ballet as well as ballroom. Would that been fair?"
Ari looked pleased. "You're a dancer? How lovely. Yes, that sounds perfect. Two days of your life and your dancing skills for three days as a selkie; do you agree?"
"Yes," was the firm response.
Ari slipped off her rock perch and drifted over to shore. As they watched, her tentacles writhed momentarily before wrapping around each other. Amazement was written on the faces of the two Hogwarts' students as the tentacle melded together and formed a perfectly human lower body, proportionate legs and all. The calf-length hair couldn't cover everything, but fortunately for Neville's delicate sensibilities, a wrap skirt had been magicked into existence as well.
"Right then," Ari said, reaching up to stroke a shell on her necklace. "Let's get started then." The shell ― a large sand-coloured nautilus that rested between her cleavage ― began to glow as her eyes glazed over slight and she murmured a singing incantation:
"Beluga, Sevruga; Come, winds of the Caspian Sea.
Stuprosus, rusticus, et maxime ineptus;
dabis arte mihi."
Ari smile a sharp smile, revealing sharpened canines. She crooned to Sally-Anne, "Now dance."
The curious feeling of not being in complete control of her body overcame Sally-Anne as she sprung into a practiced routine she had planned for her audition to the ballet school. Arabesques, pliés, ballonnés, pirouettes, jumps, turns, leaps, Sally-Anne threw everything she knew into the dance. She felt rather like a musicbox ballerina that kept being re-wound before she could stop. As her limbs tired, she noticed that her movements were becoming less polished, more jerky and awkward. She observed with fascination and a bit of horror she could restrain as her skills were drained from her.
An odd shimmering had appeared around the dancing girl from the beginning of her performance. As her skills faded, the shimmering thickened into a glow that grew as she danced on. When Sally-Anne finally mis-stepped and stumbled onto her bottom, the glow condensed and surged away from her, shooting like a stream of offensive magic into the humming shell hanging at Ari's chest.
Sally-Anne barely had time to acknowledge Ari's satisfied expression when an almost painful tingling all over her body overwhelmed her. She slumped where she sat on the ground as she gasped. She clenched her eyes to block out the sensation but it did not relent, pulling a whimper from her that sounded inhuman.
"You really did it," she heard Longbottom whisper almost reverently.
Sally-Anne cracked open an eye and blinked blearily, wondering what had just happened. She tried to pull herself up into a sitting position when she noticed her hands were missing. There were flippers where her hands were supposed to be!
A distressed barking sound disturbed her distress before the distressed resumed at a greater level when she realized that it had be her that had made the sound. What happened?
"Settle down, darling," Ari said, laying a comforting hand on Sally-Anne's newly furred back. The former blonde girl flailed against the hand unhappily. "Well, now," Ari tutted disapprovingly. "That's a nice way to thank someone that's helped you. You'd think you weren't expecting it with the way you're carrying on!"
Expecting to be turned into some animal? She was supposed to turn into a selkie!
As if seeing her protest in her eyes, Ari indulged in an eye-roll. "What do you think a selkie is? They are creatures that take the form of seals in the water and humans on land. You're currently in your seal form since you haven't taken off the skin."
The skin? A vague memory of reading about seal-skin surfaced. That's right, selkies assumed their human form by taking off their seal-skin and hiding it somewhere. She had forgotten about that since she had never seen Duncan's seal-skin.
Feeling Sally-Anne calming down, Ari waved Cleo over and gestured to the water. "I'll leave it to you to get her used to swimming in that form since you were so adamant about helping." She shoved a lock of hair behind one ear and retreated back into the water herself, her legs melting away back into tentacles.
Neville watched as Sally-Anne was ushered into the water by the nixie and was pulled under when the water become deep enough. He stood silently as the two disappeared and the cecaelia remained sitting on her rock, idly combing fingers through her hair. When the silence became too much for him, he asked, "Do you do this often?"
"Hmm?" Ari hummed, her expression back to dreamy. "You mean helping people by trading spells?"
Neville nodded. "I've heard terrible stories of sea-witches tricking people into bad deals. I've never heard of one being kind about it."
"Well, interesting stories are never about the good things in this world. I'll admit to getting good deals from time to time, but it was always with the full knowledge of the other person. Some people are just too desperate to get what they want to care that they're screwing themselves over." An amused grin spread across her lips and Neville shivered as she crooned, "Now, it's happened once or twice that someone couldn't pay the price, and I'm afraid I had to rake 'em 'cross the coals. Yes, I've had the odd complaint, but on the whole I've been a saint to those poor, unfortunate souls."
Neville fidgeted when the cecaelia woman smiled coyly and batted her lashes at him. As he began to back away, she said, "Maybe I'll see you again, darling. This has certainly been fun."
With playful wave of a tentacle she sunk back into the Black Lake.
A/N: There it is, people! Tell me what you think since this is a bit different than how I usually do.
