Authors Notes: I don't know what inspired me to write about Selkies. It sort of just seemed to happen all on its own. The legends and Celtic folklore describing Selkie's varies from Island to Island, and so I have made a mixture of them both here. I also did not intend for alot of it to rhyme, it was not a concious effort, so I'm not exactly sure of how the story flows. Oh well, make of it what you will. lol - I think, in part, I dedicate this story to my love of myth and folklore, something I was facinated with as a kid.

A One-Shot written for the Live Journal Community - Storytellersong

The Selkie Maid

"Ahh-wwwaaaay ah-haa-laaah is-man-eelal!"

The voice of a young woman, echoed as surf pounded upon the black sand.

Only the voices of nature accompanied the girl's call.

Seagulls screamed above, soaring on the coastal winds. The long grass in the dunes whistled, moved by the breath of Erula as she sang her winter song, the rhythm of the ocean as it crashed against the beach resounded the beat of her very heart.

The Girl; stood facing the wild green sea, her eyes closed, her sun-bleached auburn hair dancing to the sound of silent music. Her skin, pale like the moon, was chilled as salt residue clothed her as the approach of the thunderous storm clouds on the horizon cast the ocean's waves in every direction- like a mob of wild horses pitched in a surround.

She breathed deeply, summoning her spirit from the depth of her belly and again, let out her haunting, sweet song in a high soprano voice- it was steady and calm and incredibly sweet.

Seven tears tumbled down her cheeks and splashed to the water that lapped at her toes.

Erula called and called, beckoning the winds around her to play - Shepherding the storm clouds forth on the wings of swallows as they flitted and dove with its currents towards the safety of the dry earth.

From the waves a being formed, its skin as smooth and wet as silk; grey in colour, yet flecked with gold. His whiskers were long and his eyes blacker than the deepest night and upon his head rested a tiny pleated crown of silver that sent shimmers of light across the mirror surface of the sea.

Her song finished, Erula opened her eyes and a smile graced her pouted lips when she spotted the sea lion peering at her from the water.

"Spirit of the sea, come you to me. Let us play on the sand as the rain approaches. I have longed for your return," she laughed, her voice light and airy, her laughter the sound of freedom.

The Seal, who upon opening his mouth said in an Irish lilt, "Come in, says you? Alas, I am but a spirit and a wanderer on these tides. I trust not in pretty maidens and their beautiful songs, but in the wild thrashing of the waves on the open sea. For who are you, to ensnare one such as me?"

Again, Erula laughed in her child-like nature and beckoned him forth, "Come Torin, come bide time with me, or shall I frolic with you, out on your open sea?"

The Seal cocked his head side a ways and studied her dancing eyes. They were as blue as the ocean on a summer's day. He had was not a stranger to this girl- he had watched her since she could walk, although, it had been some eight years since their last meeting – she had grown from child to woman at rapid speed, faster than his kind aged.

But long was her waiting his answer; and so she raised her skirts and took three steps into the ocean.

He barked, her boldness taking him by surprise.

"You so eagerly wish to join me on the sea? You know you cannot return Child. A promise made to the Sea, is a promise forever kept."

Erula cast her eyes towards the sand, and darkness shadowed her elegant features, "My Father has promised me to another. I will boldly embrace your sea, for I know, I could never ask you to come and live with me."

Torin snorted, his whiskers twitching. Concern played deeply in his bottomless eyes and a frown creased his forehead.

"To be another's love?" he asked surprised, "This shall not do. Come, return to shore. I will come and spend some hours with you."

So with haste Erula did as she was bid. She turned her back and skipped to shore, splashing as she did. And once she turned to be seated on the sand, she saw him standing there.

No Seal, but a man, in his entire naked splendor. Only in dreams and memories past, had she seen him this way before. His hair was wildly curly and hung dripping around his broad shoulders, his stomach dipped to the crescent moon shape of his belly button, and further down she could not help but look, sending shades of pink to her cheeks.

"Erula, look at me! Am I not the same prince from your many dreams? Have I not watched and waited for this day to pass since I last visited and left my mark on you those eight years passed?"

Erula, embarrassed at his beauty, struggled, but lifted her gaze to meet with those same familiar black eyes that had haunted her sleep. She smiled shyly, "Aye, 'tis you Torin, although your beauty outweighs my secret dreams."

He laughed- a deep, rich laugh- as he sat himself beside her and pulled her close to him.

"Now, let us think, what are we to do?" he murmured.

"There are no options but two and both are unsound and not likeable to you. Let us sway, let us dance, and enjoy these few hours in the storm. For, come the morn, it'll be seven more years before we may do so again."

And so they swayed, their bodies joined as one. They danced a dance of passion as the clouds covered the sun. His body strong, her body lithe, together they wrestled lovingly in the waves of the tide.

He held her close and kissed her skin. She moaned and cried, unconsciously begging to be allowed to stay with him. He was salty and she was sweet, as their bodies entwined and pounded to the same beat.

In the throws of passion, he called her name, and she cried out, their voice; one in the same.

But once slumber had stolen them into each others arms, the sun began to rise and the sea began to calm.

Torin was first awake, and he sat deep in thought, looking out upon the sea – his hand still tucked within hers.

Among the calming waters, did he see more of his kind; his family and they begged him with their eyes to rejoin them once again.

"I cannot!" he called, his heart twisting with pain, "for she is not a Selkie and I cannot live without her."

The seals swam up upon to the shore and peered at the sleeping maid beside their prince.

The largest of the seals, old and grey, his eyes searched the Prince's face for wisdom, and he saw true love in his Son's heart.

"If you choose her path, your destiny lies with the fickleness of men." He said solemnly, "But if you return to us, and bring her with, you shall be spared your grief."

"Her death shall not resound in rejoicing Father," Torin made his feelings clear.

The old King Seal nodded his head wisely, "This, I know, cannot be easier for you. So I will give her a test. So many a human, once in love with a Selkie, will steal their skin and hide it away, binding the Selkie to the earth forever so that they can never return to the sea. Leave your lover sleeping, with your skin to keep her warm. Wander for an hour and then return. We shall watch, we shall wait, and the woman will decide both of your fate."

And so Torin laid his sealskin over Erula's creamy form and wandered over the dunes till later in the morn.

Now when Erula awoke, she was quite alone, all except her lover's seal skin, which had been left to keep her warm.

At this she cried, tears running down her chin, for she was certain, some villagers, had come and stolen him. She pressed the fur across her chest and mourned her lover's loss.

She did not think he was simply taking a walk, nor did the thought to hide the skin, did her mind, it cross.

So in despair, she gathered a sharpened shellfish and began to make bloody marks across her skin. No laughter in her eyes, no life in her smile, she hummed away her winter song, in silent threads of grief.

When Torin returned to her side, he found her barely alive. Her eyes fluttered open as he cried out in alarm and gathered her body to his.

"My precious heart, oh what have you done?"

"Torin, you are not captured? Nor harmed by men are thee?" she croaked weakly.

The Prince cried salty tears and shook his head and turned to the Selkie King as he emerged from the water.

"Why have you done this? Why? Not a word to her or a call to me?"

"Cry not My Son," said the Selkie King, "For she has proven her love for you, as you have for her. She would die, in your place, a rare quality in the human race. For this one deed, she shall be set free…"

Erula could barely hear what was taking place; her breath was short and slow as blood seeped into the already black sand.

"Restore your crown upon her head and bring her to the waves. She will join our Clan, but there and only there, shall she spend the rest of her days."

Torin removed his pleated silver crown and did as his father bade; he placed it gently and yet firmly, upon the dying maid.

And much to his delight, from Erula's eyes came a golden light and with minutes to spare, she gasped her final moments of human air. In his arms she lay, no longer a woman, but a creature of play. Her fur was gold and red and she bore his crown still upon her head, but the most amazing thing of all, and he will swear its true, was her eyes were still the deepest shade of blue.

And so, on Erula's disappearance, legends and myths are made, of Selkie lovers and the Selkie Maids.