"So what happened after the selkie saved you from the water, Da?" Colm asks, little face scrunched up in interest but pale as he fights falling asleep like Tam, who is already curled in a ball, thumb securely in his mouth.

Sebastian's eyes focus on the far wall, looking beyond the stone, beyond the years and miles, back to the moon-lit bay of Kirkwall what seems like ages ago. "Selkies can only live on land as humans for at night by choice, so that night we spent together was all she could have unless I took her hide and hid it till my dying day. But though I loved her greatly, she seemed most happy free, and I could not force her to cage herself in an airless vault of stone and wood when she could wander the Waking Sea as she saw fit. So at dawn we parted, and never again did I return to that beach, for fear I would see my selkie again, and be too weak to let her go. I found out later that for almost a year she came back night after night, waiting in the waves to see if I would return to her; that was something my grandda never told me - as much as a man never recovers from seeing the beauty of a selkie, neither will a selkie recover from the sight of a man she has heart enough to save. Instead, another man saw her waiting for me one night, and stole her hide so she could not leave him. Mo chéadsearc, stór mo chroí, became another man's selkie bride, and I hated them both for it."

His oldest son frowns at him, blinking his eyes like a large, sleepy owl. "You shouldn't hate a lady, Da. It isn't right for a prince to hate ladies."

Smiling at his son, he gently smoothes the quilt. "I wasn't much a prince back then, a stóirín; but you're right, I shouldn't have hated her for having no choice but to do what the one who had her hide told her she must. Hate is a very strong thing, Colm, and once it takes root in your heart it is almost impossible to dig out without killing yourself first. But there is something even stronger than hate, do you know what that is? Love, Colm. Nothing is as strong as love. And when the man who stole my selkie's hide destroyed the Chantry, killed the Grand Cleric, and tried to turn her against me, she looked at me with her eyes so full of love and I knew she wouldn't do it. It nearly killed her to disobey, and because of it she'd never be able to return to the sea, but my selkie maid was mine again." Gently, Sebastian stands from the bed, stooping low to kiss his sleeping sons on the forehead before snuffing the candles and heading to his own chamber.

In the low nursing chair beside the fire, the Princess of Starkhaven sits with their newborn daughter in her arms, cooing gently as the babe drowsily nuzzles her breast above the loosened neck of a thin cotton nightdress. "Come now, Thina, just a little more. There's my girl..." Standing in the doorway, her husband watches silently for a moment, then kneels behind the chair, sweeping the curtain of black silk away to rest his head against his lady's neck. "Did you tell them a story?"

"Aye. I was telling them of the time I saw a selkie near the Wounded Coast, and how I swore to never let her go."

"I love you, Sebastian Vael."

He takes the sleeping babe from her arms and lays it in the cradle beside their bed, brushing a kiss against the baby's wrinkled nose before he returns to his wife draws her to her feet, slipping the gown down her shoulders as he tastes his way from collarbone to lips. "I love you, Morgan. Tá grá agam duit, a selkie."

So I run into the waves,
Where my Selkie is waiting for me,
And together we swim.
She takes me into her world,
Where I am her King and she is my Queen,
I have always lived here.

A/N: Standard "I don't own Sebastian, BioWare does; I'm just playing with his mind" disclaimer. Lyrics are from "The Selkie" by Damh the Bard. Special thanks to AmandaKitswell, for once again being an awesome beta and sister (even when threatening to delete every screenshot I have of Anders if I didn't finish this, love you too, Manda), and to my bestie Chris for feeding me lines that got me going again in the middle of writer's block!

And some interesting facts: I realized when I did some more research that I was actually describing California Sea Lions and not fur seals (apparently, seals don't bark), but since I grew up in California and saw the sea lions all the time and this is me pretty much writing about my beach there out of homesickness, I'm leaving it that way. Besides, who knows what seals are like in the Free Marches?

The proper way to get free of a rip current is to swim parallel to the shore towards a place where waves are breaking, because that's where you'll be pulled back towards land, instead of out to the ocean. And you will drown from exhaustion if you try to fight it, so don't.

The following Gaelic phrases appear in this story (sorry if my Gaelic sucks, I'm an Italian from San Diego, I only speak English and Spanish):

A selkie: "my selkie"

A thaisce: "my treasure"

Mo chéadsearc, stór mo chroí: "my true love, treasure of my heart"

A stóirín: "little darling"

Tá grá agam duit, a selkie: "I love you, my selkie."