A/N: I was going through this story while working on new material (!) and discovered that I hadn't crossposted this chapter yet. Not entirely sure as to why, but here it is anyhow.
Eight
With their arms linked, Ian and Clara went strolling along the island, taking in the sights around them that was North Ronaldsay. There wasn't much to the island that either of them hadn't seen yet, but that didn't make it any less beautiful. They could've been walking through a chemical wasteland and still find it beautiful, simply because they were there with one another.
"This is nice," Clara hummed, resting her head on Ian's arm as they walked. "We should take walks more often."
"You think so?" Ian wondered. He glanced around, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. "It's the same things that have been living on the island for centuries. The seasons change, but the island doesn't."
"That's where you're wrong," she chuckled. "The island is constantly changing, even if it's blades of grass and the number of bluebells growing in the garden." She glanced up at him, seeing that his expression was one of intrigue. "My guess is that the Fair Folk see things differently than humans do."
"Most likely," he nodded solemnly. Though he had lost track of his true age long, long ago, he couldn't deny that the mayfly clutching his arm contently seemed to have a better perspective on the minute changes around them than he did. Change to him was the technology and lack of belief in the Fair Folk, not where a flower moved to over the course of winter. He needed someone like Clara around to be able to note and appreciate the subtlety around him. Gazing down upon her face, he saw as she admired the blossoms they were passing and his heart skipped a beat; the Council sure did a number on him this time.
The island being as small as it was, it took barely no time at all for the couple to run into some of the other people there. Thankfully, it was a group of children, Lorens amongst them.
"Oh, hello Miss Oswald! Mr. Morlo!" he shouted, waving his hand wildly. He and his playmates all wandered over towards them, the other kids amazed at the man's presence. "See? I told you guys he was real."
"Wow! Are you really staying at Miss Oswald's?!"
"My mum said she's taking care of it for Mr. Pink! Does he know?"
"Yeah! Does Mr. Pink know?"
"Mr. Pink gave me his cottage, because he can't take care of it anymore," Clara said, leaning down so that she could be closer to eye-level with the children. Ian could sense the sadness in her heart for telling such a half-lie, likely started by the other adults in the children's lives, so he crouched down and butted into the conversation.
"Now I barely knew Mr. Pink, but I did meet him a couple of times, and I can guarantee you that I wouldn't have moved into his old place if he had an objection to it."
"Wait, you've met Mr. Pink?"
"Aye—the Mr. Pink that you know, and his late uncle who was another Mr. Pink," Ian explained. "I make my living my researching faerie stories and writing papers so that stuffy old professors in snooty public schools can make sense of them."
"…but why do you do that…?"
"Well, someone has to make sure they understand, or else they'll forget the fae exist!" he said.
"Why's it so important that the stuffy old professors know the fae exist?"
"…because the fae being forgotten is like forgetting what a tree looks like," said another voice, cutting off Ian. He glanced up and saw it was Innes, standing there as though she belonged on the island. Ian stood back at his full height; one false move and it wouldn't be only him in danger, nor just him and Clara. "Isn't that right? I hear you are an expert."
"Who are you?" Lorens wondered.
"A tourist," Innes lied. She took a couple steps forward, which caused Ian to match her, putting himself between her and the children, as well as Clara. "You're the bloke who gave all those lectures at Glasgow on mythology in the 80s, yeah?"
"I'm surprised you'd remember after so long," he scowled.
"Oh, I never forget a pretty face," she smirked.
Clara immediately picked up on the tension and began to herd the children away. "Come on, kids! How about you go back to your game? It looked like you were in the middle of a good football match…" Innes watched them, giving Ian an impish grin when they were out of earshot.
"She's cute," she noticed. "So she's the one who summoned you, eh?"
"Leave her out of it."
"Now you know I can't do that," Innes said. "She decided to mix herself up with our kind, meaning she's far from being off-limits. Now what are you planning on doing about that?" She poked him in the chest and chuckled. "How about it? I know who you're with now—there's little stopping me from flattening her like the wee ant she is."
"I'd like to see you try," Ian snarled. He spun on his heel and stomped over towards Clara and the children, muttering under his breath as he did, electrifying the air around him. His hair began to stand on-end as magic surged from his being. Clara caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and turned to speak to him, only to be met with him bending down into a kiss.
Freezing up, Clara was caught off-guard by the sudden, and rather public, display of affection. She relaxed after a moment, letting both Ian's magic and the children's sounds of disgust envelop her. He tasted like brine and something… vast. It was the taste of the sea itself. Letting herself get caught in the moment, she kissed him back, feeling herself increasingly drawn to him, growing light-headed as they continued.
Ian then broke the kiss long enough to murmur in her ear, "We've got to get to Hollandstoun."
"Why…?"
"There's a barrier around the perimeter of the town set up centuries ago that protects the inhabitants from beings like her—the spell I put on you will last until then."
"…but what about…?"
"The house is too far; come on," he urged. Ian made a face at the children, which caused them to run away in shrieking giggles, and nearly pulled Clara along as he headed towards the island's largest grouping of buildings. The moment they crossed over the town's boundaries, Clara could feel something dissipate around her and the selkie's grip relax.
"Now what?" she asked. "Innes is going to just wait for us, isn't she?"
"Yeah—I guess we stay in town until she leaves; Innes has never been known as patient," he said. Ian held out his elbow and Clara, feeling much more relaxed, took it.
It was an interesting day out in town, Clara decided, as she and Ian wandered about, waiting for the water spirit to give up on them for the time being. While it wasn't fully tourist season yet, there were still plenty of places open where she was able to take him. By the time they were sitting in the town pub eating their dinner, Clara had a feeling that all the local eyes were on the both of them.
"I feel so exposed," she muttered, poking at her pie. "Everyone's looking at us."
"There could be worse things," Ian shrugged. "After a while, people stopped asking who I was. That has to be a good thing, right?"
"Wrong—it means that word travels fast in this little community," she frowned. "At least you were able to convince people you aren't the same man who would visit Orson." Taking a bite of pie, she chewed on it thoughtfully. "Why did you visit Orson? He didn't Summon you, did he?"
"No—few selkies ever get Summoned by a man, and most that do seem to enter friend-sort of relationships rather than sexual ones," he explained. He then glanced over the table at her, nearly withdrawing. "The kiss this morning was alright, wasn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"It didn't feel… contrived, did it?"
"You already told me that was how you placed the protective barrier on me that lasted until the Hollandstoun one kicked in—it's fine." She tried to look him in the eyes, not able to make contact. "Are you alright? Ian, I've been introducing you to everyone as my boyfriend… it's fine. I think my boyfriend is allowed to kiss me out of the blue, whether it's an attempt to save me or not."
"…but Clara, I'm not—!" Ian was cut off by the waitress coming over to them, setting down two cupcakes.
"Here you go," she grinned. "Don't worry about the bill; the two of you continue looking cute and it won't be a problem."
"Oh, but come on…" Clara started.
"No," the waitress insisted. She turned to Ian and gave him a smile. "Keep her happy, will you? She needs it."
"I'll do my best," he replied. He watched as the waitress walked away, only to have Clara kick him in the shin. "Ow! What?!"
"Eyes over here, mister," she teased, pointing at her face. Ian paused for a moment before bursting into laughter—a sound that was like magic to her ears. Clara reached across the table and took his hand. He stopped and entwined his fingers with hers, knowing it was not only making her heart melt, but his as well (not to mention the hearts of all those at the bar).
Staying until it was late, the couple played it safe as possible when it came to waiting out their pursuer. With no feeling of danger at all, they ambled along, with little in the air other than the sound of the sea and crickets chirping idly. Clara turned and glanced at Ian over her shoulder, a curious expression on her face.
"Why does Innes want your skin?" she asked. "I know what you said about being permanently bonded, but what would that do for her?"
"It'd link me to her until my life force runs out," he said. A couple large strides and he was besides her, putting an arm around her shoulder. He saw the moonlight illuminating her face, the similarities uncanny. "Servitude is not how Fae naturally exist. If we serve, it's because of a difference in power, or enslavement, or a bet was lost and that is what the payment is. A fae not in charge of their life is not a happy fae."
"…is what we're doing like that?"
"No… I've wanted a Summons, but it's been so long for the right person to come around that I've become restless and rough… I want to be with you, Clara."
"Good; I don't care if it's about waiting for the right Summons, but don't make me feel like I'm letting something happen that neither of us want," she stated. "At least for mortals like me, life's too short to bother with things like that."
Ian kissed the top of her head and exhaled happily. Yes, this was going to be his true Summons for sure. He would stay with Clara as long as she needed him, and then he would return to his people and have the ability to stand up to the High Council and their esoteric ways. With the magical knowledge he had gained over the years, he would be able to help his brethren in ways that the current order refused to even acknowledge.
Suddenly, the sound of a horse neighing cut through the air. Ian looked behind them and saw that it wasn't livestock escaped from a barn, but a creature that was standing next to Innes a short ways away from them. The being was a nuckelavee: a grotesque fusion of horse and rider. Holding a lamp in its elongated hand, the rider was attached to the horse's back at the waist, the two permanently bonded. Its muscles and sinew were raw and exposed, pumping blood all throughout the skinless body with no thought of decency. He heard Clara gasp and his eyes flicked down to her for only a moment, catching her wide, brown eyes grow even wider at the scene.
"Thought I'd give up, did you?" Innes giggled. "How about I introduce you to one of the lads you're going to be working with?"
"You can't handle the nuckelavee!" Ian shouted. "It won't listen to you!" The fae woman merely gave him a cat-like grin.
"Try me."
"Clara! Run!" he screamed. He took her by the hand and they began to sprint towards the cottage, hoping that they would make it in time.
