Author's Note: This story concerns Leoma, the younger sister of my LOTR RP character Culfinwen. It was partially inspired by the Scottish and Irish legends of the Selkies, in case you were wondering. XD
An Autumn Dream
Lêoma tossed her long golden hair back over her shoulder, and pulled her needle through the tablecloth she was sewing back and forth, a movement that was so natural to her that she hardly had to think about it. As she rocked in a chair by the window, her feet barely touching the ground, she stared out dreamily at the huge tree outside the window.
A leaf fell, and then another, bright crimson leaves twirling against a blue sky. As they settled on the still green grass below the tree, a sudden gust blew more down. She watched with delight, a dreamy smile on her face. Her sewing lay unattended to in her hands, until at last she laid it down and called,
"Mother! May I go for a ride please? I will finish the sewing when I return."
Her mother, Alawyn, glided into the room, and shook her head to see the work Lêoma had done. Even for a nine year old girl, it was surprisingly good, but Alawyn's careful eye could detect how her daughter's concentration had lessened, the stitches becoming further apart and not as straight.
"I suppose so, child, but only for an hour. The sun is setting. You can finish this tomorrow."
Lêoma threw on her blue cloak, her favorite one that matched the color of her eyes and set off her blonde hair. She walked out to the barn – but her step was so light that perhaps "dancing" would fit better – and saddled her chestnut pony, Æcern.
The wind was crisp against her cheeks as she rode out into the meadow behind her house, heading instinctively for her favorite place in the world: a running stream in a grove of trees, only about three feet wide, and the deepest it got in places was up to her waist. Inside the grove, it was warmer, ore sheltered fro the wind. Lêoma tied Æcern to a tree, near a patch of grass to ease his appetite; and she nestled among the dry leaves, staring dreamily at the rippling river waters. Her eyes closed once, twice, remained closed for a brief second. They opened again, sapphire orbs in a childishly beautiful face, but this time they remained open as Lêoma's mouth dropped open in surprise.
A lady, dressed in white, was rising out of the river. Her dress was like something a queen would wear, Lêoma mused, not the coarse homespun that everyone in the Eastmark wore. But her sweet and naïve childlike mind did not question, and she rose from her place on the bank to curtsy before the lady.
"Who are you?" she queried inquisitively, blushing a second after the words left her mouth. Oh, if the lady should think her a rude common child, how dreadful! But the woman smiled at her, and Lêoma gazed in wonder.
"I am Ædre-mægden, the keeper of this stream."
"I did not know you lived here." Lêoma gasped in awe.
The lady only smiled again, and stretched forth her hand to the golden- haired girl standing on the river-bank. Lêoma took it and smiled back, but uttered a startled cry as the lady pulled her down into the sparkling waters of the stream.
Lêoma knew from her many times attempting to swim in the hot summer that the stream hardly came to her waist, and yet they went down and down, further into the sparkling waters. She expected a rush of cold, but to her surprise, the water was deliciously warm, like the rays of the sun on an autumn day. And she could breath quite easily and freely – another shock. Lêoma still had a hold of the lady's hand, but as she tried to remove her grasp, the lady held on tightly.
"Do not let go of my hand, Lêoma." Ædre-mægden warned. "For once you do that, you shall not be able to breath, and the stream will again feel icy cold to your touch. Keep close to me, I shall protect you."
Lêoma nodded in reply, not daring to speak yet. Her blue eyes were wide with fright, and she clung to Ædre-mægden's hand as a child clings to his mother's. Soon, a magnificent palace came into view, and forgetting her present watery conditions, Lêoma let out a cry of awe. She found she could speak as well as breath in these watery depths, and she turned to Ædre- mægden with wonder in her eyes.
"How is it that this palace is here, hidden from all eyes, when I know that the stream is scarcely two feet deep?"
The river-maiden smiled again, and brushed back a floating lock of her beautiful black hair.
"It is a secret of the river, my child. And as soon as you let go of my hand, you shall forget all about it."
"I wish I could stay here forever." Lêoma murmured.
"And yet that cannot be, for you are a mortal maiden." Ædre-mægden replied simply. "But if you wish, there is a way..."
Lêoma thought of her mother, her father, her brothers and her sister and almost shook her head. But as she gazed into Ædre-mægden's beautiful black eyes, a longing came over her to live beneath the waters, to be a river maiden herself.
"If that is possible, I shall remain here with you."
"Come then. But remember, do not let go of my hand until I say so, or else you shall perish."
She drew Lêoma into the sparkling palace, where gold glittered everywhere. Enchanted by the sight, she nevertheless had no time to marvel, for Ædre- mægden pulled her into the innermost room of the palace, still holding her hand.
She picked up a large knife in her other hand. Startled, Lêoma pulled back, almost breaking the bond.
"Lêoma. Remember that if you let go of my hand, you shall die. This will not hurt – it will only get rid of your mortality."
"But will I ever be able to see my family again?" Lêoma cried, the tears from her eyes mingling with the waters of the stream.
Ædre-mægden shook her head.
"Then I do not want to do it!"
"But you already chose, my dear – and now there is no choice for you but death to your mortal self."
Lêoma stared at Ædre-mægden; and the river maiden stared back, a smile growing upon her face, cruel and cold like winter. But Lêoma would rather have the autumn, and with a cry, she pulled her hand away from Ædre- mægden's.
"Then I shall die!" she cried, and shut her eyes tightly.
When she reopened them, she was once more on the river bank among the leaves. Æcern munched grass contemplatively and stared at her with wide brown eyes. Lêoma put a hand to her quickly-beating heart and hurried over to the pony, throwing an arm around his neck.
"It was only a dream, Æcern - only a dream, and nothing more."