Spirits of the Earth

It was there. A fur unlike any other Lucien had seen. All he saw were the colors and texture and both the blends and contrasts within the surrounding rocks. To him, it was as good as gone. A fine price could be fetched was his initial thought, but as he drew further away from the shoreline it became clearer that he might not be able to give it up.

All he wondered was why such a fine thing was just out where it had been. He himself had journeyed down with the intention of hugging the sands for a while to lie low, but this opportunity was too much to pass up. Such a fine creature, he thought, dead and gone but for its lovely coat. To just be snatched up by fortunate, or unfortunate, timing and greedy hands, Lucien thought it a rare and lucky day for himself.

It could go on the wall. It could be a throw. Even a rug by the fire would be fitting, if it was in a hearth. A house unbuilt now flooded his mind as he scurried along; he would never get away with such a fine thing if anyone saw! On walls his treasures were mounted, joined from all their various hiding places. A fine mirror before a chest of jewels and pendants, and hooks filled with all manner of jewelry. Of course, he would share his collection with...probably no one. One willing to handle his anxiety over all of his material things most likely had far nobler endeavors to pursue.

He was a man who acted first and asked questions later if at all. But this time he was so unsure of what he would do with something he thought might be extremely valuable. Succumb to his materialism or monetary greed? Either way, he was certain no one had seen and he would get away with whatever he chose to do. If it even belonged to anyone anyway, why would they leave such a lovely thing out?

What quick glances he had afforded yielded no other body parts, to his surprise, so surely it must have belonged to someone else. That was no longer his concerned, though. Now he would just focus on getting away, finding some alternative hiding place to stow away with his prize.

What Lucien did not know was that he was leaving behind something rarer and more valuable than a mere, lone seal coat. Everything else he could have had was left, free to be taken by another now. Someone else who would not wield power as he could have had over a selkie.
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On the other hand, Stephen was on a run of bad luck. On the tail end of an argument, he'd left to simmer down on his own. Away from his family's home, he'd headed south across a narrow, shallow bend of river and down towards the shore. With both time and distance behind him, it was easier to think properly again. At the edge of the grasses with his feet sunk into the sands he settled down on a crackling patch to watch the waves and the waters beyond.

He wouldn't call it moping now, just some thinking time alone, but it wasn't so peaceful with the sounds of others in the distance off to his right. Playing along the shore, it sounded like, or perhaps even some birds calling, he could not say for sure. Settling himself back down to a calmer state was his goal right now, but he was so easily brought out of the cloud of his own thoughts by the world around him. If he had been a less, generally, happy man it probably would have driven him mad, but for now it only left him unable to make much progress on his own.

He sat with unkempt clothes and hair. Sleeves were pushed back by the wind and his curls danced about the nape of his neck. It was all so distracting. There was too much room for him to wander, too much space for his thoughts to travel to other realms for such a man to be disciplined enough to commit to any course right now.

Cool water lapped at her hips, making goose bumps appear all over her body. It was much colder than she thought without her coat. But, it was a necessary evil to go without; Vanora could not squeeze into her little hideaway in her other form. 'Besides,' she often reasoned, 'it was more fun this way.'

Her gentle seafoam-colored eyes peeked over the rock she was hiding behind and curiously gazed out at the creatures playing on the sandy shore. They were small, no bigger than a selkie pup and seemed to enjoy chasing each other nearly as much as any other young she had ever seen.

A splash to her right had her flinching and dropping back down again in the blink of an eye. She barely dared to breathe as she listened intently. Wide eyes searched around the corner to find that one of the odd pups had fallen into the water and was now making its way back out.

Deeming the day to have been filled with enough adventure, Vanora wiggled her way out of her resting place and dove under the frigid surface to return to a much more secluded part of the beach. Her teeth chattered slightly as she exited the water, rubbing her arms vigorously. She had hidden her coat on the rocks of this sandbar so that when she approached from the water she would not be seen without knowing.

Yet, as she came closer and closer to the rocks there was no sign of her coat in sight. Desperate, Vanora lunged forward, ignoring the shells that poked painfully into her feet. Her hands ran across the surfaces of the rocks in disbelief before she began to search the waters surrounding.

'It's fallen. It's just caught under one of the rocks. It's just too dark to see it.' Excuse after excuse was made but, no seal skin was ever found. 'It's gone.' The thought brought a chilling sensation that seemed to run deep within her bones. Vanora let loose a strangled barking, sobbing noise before dropping to her knees, ignoring how the water now came to the tops of her shoulders. 'Forever,' she sobbed. 'It wasn't supposed to happen like this, or at all. But, not like this.'

The air had such a sharp bite now that he hadn't felt before or given a thought to when he'd stormed off. Now the thin fabric of his wheat-colored top was hardly doing anything for him even with the sleeves running all the way to his wrists. The trousers he wore, while dark, did nothing for his exposed feet. The buffets of wind snapping against him on all fronts only did to shake him with goose bumps and shivers and what little reserves he had for insulation did nothing for it. Yet, he was determined to not let it affect him much right now; all he needed was to be reminded that he was alive, that he could feel and that there was pain.

What sounds he'd heard before had progressed and grown louder. There was splashing now but all he did was continue to look off towards the horizon beyond. It would only grow colder as darkness rolled in.

It did take a while, but Stephen did finally notice the odd barking noises off where the splashing had been before. A quick glance did not yield anything unusual, but the noises persisted; he was beginning to honestly wonder if there might be a dog of some sort out there, perhaps trapped. The idea of having something to occupy his mind right now was definitely appealing to him, so he decided to go have a look. Standing up and brushing sand off his clothes, he made swift work of heading off.

He was going at a nice clip, no doubt, but he saw no dogs from where he was even with his taller height. His stride in the sand was something that could be called slightly clumsy, but he was already so long-limbed and lanky that it probably even helped him. Narrowing his eyes to peer out, though, he was still not finding what his eyes sought.

Being about to give up, he finally noticed what looked like...a clump of seaweed just offshore, or at least he thought. But there was no sign of a dog anywhere and that blasted noise was still so persistent. Upon a second glance, though, he realized that that clump of seaweed was attached to something much lighter and looked almost... Well, he was sure it was human when he let his eyes lower further, and a woman if he wasn't mistaken.

With all the trouble he'd been in lately, though, did he really need to get involved with a...barking girl with messy hair? It didn't take long for him to talk himself into at least making sure she wasn't hurt. "Hey!" he called over the wind, finally stopped with his feet sunk into the sand just a little ways back from where the waves were currently hitting.

"What are you doing out there? Are you stuck? Are you hurt?"

Vanora was so deeply immersed in her fear and hysteria that she never heard the man's approach until he was calling out to her. Startled, she jumped to her feet, wobbling slightly as the sand shifted beneath her feet and stared wide-eyed at the stranger.

Her arms moved self-consciously to cover herself as her gaze dropped to the waist-high water. 'Who is he? Does he have my coat? Why is he here? Why can't he just leave?' Tears flowed down her cheeks even faster as her body shook from the cold and her quiet sobs.

She looked a complete wreck with her reddened, swollen eyes and tangled mass of hair, yet it was the absence of her most prized possession that made her feel even worse. 'Just give it back to me. I want to go home now. Just give it back, please.'

Watch the girl leap up, he was startled by her wide-eyed look. It was like she was actually surprised that he was there. But she wasn't saying a word and just continued to cry. Seeing that she wasn't making any move to get out of the water even though she was shaking, Stephen was beginning to truly think she might have been in some pain at least.

Furrowing his brow, he looked further down the beach on either side of them but couldn't make out anything that would indicate she'd been out there with someone. Stepping a bit closer and inching his way up while trying not to get water on his clothes as it was already cold enough for him, he held a hand outstretched to her. "Here, let me help you. If you can move, come on out. You're going to freeze if you stay in there," he warned.

Still looking around for any signs of activity, it struck him as rather odd that there really was nothing there except for this lone woman. "Why are you crying?" he decided to question, wary of how odd this was for him. He wasn't one to hide his appreciation for a woman's nakedness, but this poor girl looked so rattled and, he assumed, lost that for once he wasn't focused on looking.

The tears continued to flow as her bottom lip wobbled. The sounds she heard coming from the tall creature in front of her were strange but, his tone did not sound like he was talking about harming her. She stared curiously at the appendage stretched out towards her before examining her own hand.

Hesitantly, Vanora reached out, softly placing her hand palm-side up atop the other's. She was unsure as to what he wanted and briefly wondered if he was the one who took her coat. 'Maybe he went looking for me or got bored of waiting. I hope he gives it back. So cold. What does he want with me?'

He watched the woman's movements as she reached out to him. The result was just as puzzling to him as everything else about her so far when she set her hand atop his instead of taking it. Furrowing his brows a bit, a short and disbelieving laugh escaped him when he realized she wasn't turning it over to grasp his own hand. "Um, would you like to get out now...? You're going to freeze if you stay in there too long," he warned before glancing down at the thin material of his shirt shifting back-and-forth with the wind.

"You can have my shirt," he began to offer while bringing his hand out from under hers, turning it, and pressing their palms together before grasping her hand. With his other he started pulling his top up and over his head. Pushing it along his arm he left the cuff of the sleeve around her wrist, leaving it dangling between them as a rush of fresh goose bumps spread along his now-exposed skin.

A little knowing smile was there as he looked down at her, but it didn't lack in encouragement as he motioned with his head for her to come up onto the sands and gave her hand a small tug. "Take it, I insist. Now come on, get out of there before you get the shirt soaked, too," he added, chuckling with a somewhat playful tone halfway between discomfort from the cold and hoping his curiosity about her could be satisfied if he got on her good side.

He was speaking again, although Vanora did not understand his words as he tugged her closer. She allowed herself to be pulled up the incline, lunging the last few steps forward in order to catch his shirt as the sleeve began to dangle above the water's surface.

Suddenly realizing how close together they were, her eyes widened and cheeks flushed as she focused her gaze on his chest. Vanora continued holding the stranger's hand as her other raised to press his shirt back against his chest.

She stared curiously up at him with wide, innocent eyes. 'Silly creature, why take your skin off if you are cold?' Her own thoughts drew her attention back to herself. The young woman looked down at herself, once more realizing just how cold it was now that she was out of the water and being attacked by the cool wind.

If she could have, Vanora would have shrunk in on herself to escape it all. All she wanted was to have her coat back and to go home. But, as long as it was gone she was forced to remain on land, never to be a seal again. Her body trembled fiercely, although whether it was from cold or fear, she could not say. Without thinking, the selkie moved closer the topless man to use his body as a small shield against the biting wind.

He thought things were going better as she finally started to climb out from the water, but she was still so quiet. Looking down at her with a sense of puzzlement, he still cast a few wondering glances up and down the beach one last time. "I guess there's nobody with you, then?" he asked slowly as his attention was drawn to her hand pressing the shirt against him.

"No, please wear it, at least for now. I don't want you to freeze," he explained with a chuckle. Bringing his free hand back up again, Stephen tried to push the shirt back towards her even as she was moving closer against him. A wandering thought reminded him that she might be in shock over something, but he still wondered about her if she was trying to get warmth from a stranger who found her crying in the water.

"I really think you'd feel a bit warmer if you wore it," he insisted again while reaching around her to try and at least pull the sleeve up her arm, paying no attention to the fact that it was inside out on her.

Vanora watched confusedly as the stranger pushed the sleeve back at her She wondered if he wanted help with putting it on and decided it was the least she could do for him. Slowly, she reached up to assist him, still wary and shy until out of the corner of her eye she saw something move behind her.

Startled, she gasped and jerked away from him, letting both the shirt and him go as she backed away. Once more her arms moved to cover herself as she stared up at the man with eyes filled with fear and worry. It never occurred to her that being within arm's reach of him did nothing to stop him from harming her if he wanted to.

The idea that she was vulnerable without her coat preyed more on her mind than anything else. Vanora wished now more than ever that she knew the sounds to make to demand her prized possession back. She wished she had the strength to take back what was hers. But, in the end it did not matter, for she was just a cold and frightened little selkie at another creature's mercy.

Stephen's eyes widened as the woman pulled away from him. Watching the shirt fall to the ground beside them, he noted that only a small corner of it was getting wet, for now. Bending over, he snatched it up before the wind carried it further out or down away from them. Holding it out to her, he put the other hand to her shoulder as those sky blue eyes tried to look into her face again.

He could see that fear there, but the meaning for it was lost on him. Stephen had no idea she was anything but human or that her coat had been taken from her. He didn't understand the helplessness that came with feeling that isolated or that she even could not understand anything he had been saying to her thus far. "Please, you're all right," he urged, cracking a small smile for her benefit. "Nothing's going to get you."

Lifting the shirt again, he put it over her head to at least dangle around her neck. "You can't just wear nothing, you're seriously going to freeze like this... If you come with me I can make sure you have somewhere to warm up and get some food at least," he tried to assure her.

Tentatively Vanora smiled back. His voice had a soothing quality to it and he seemed honest enough. Although, if she was perfectly open with herself, she would remember that she had no basis on which to compare him to. Choosing to ignore this, she remained still as he reached out for her again.

She was surprised to find him placing the article of clothing around her neck and almost reached up to take it off when he spoke again. Something about his tone seemed to suggest that it would be best if she did not remove it and instead tried to figure out how to put it on the way he had been wearing it.

Having never worn a shirt before though, it was quite understandable that she had trouble and in the end manage to get one arm in the head hole and the other arm in the wrong sleeve. Grumbling she furrow her brows and struggle more with the shirt, starting to become distressed, the more tangled she became.

Finally she seemed to be understanding what he was trying to get her to do. A smile of encouragement was there as he watched her struggle with the shirt, but he soon realized that she was getting herself quite tangled and stuck. Trying not to snicker about it, he stepped closer to her and put a hand to her shoulder. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize it was turned like that," he said with a wince as he tried to turn it around for her.

Seeing she'd gotten an arm through the head hole, though, he took her forearm and tried to push her back through at the same time. Reaching to hold out the correct sleeve for her, he added, "Here, try to get it through this one instead."

The selkie settled as the stranger began to help her. She let out a sigh of relief as he maneuvered her arm out its uncomfortable position and allowed her to move it into the sleeve properly. Vanora wished she could understand this man's language so that she could thank him for the kindness he was showing her.

She did the best she could to convey her message, offering him a beaming smile and moving close to wrap and arm around his waist in a one-armed embrace. The act was something she had seen several other males and females do with each other on the shore and she hoped she did not offend the helpful man. Vanora smiled again just to make sure, as she curiously stared up at him from where she had glued herself to his side.

There was no way he could even begin to understand why he was receiving a hug from this silent stranger, but it was a welcome change from the cold shoulder and anger his mother had been giving him lately. Her smile was so infectious, though, and he found his lips unable to stop forming a smile right back for her. Putting an arm around her shoulders in return, he looked down at her again. She was so small, he thought, at least compared to himself. That might bode well for her, though, having such big, expressive eyes like he was seeing now. "There..., you got it," was all he could think to say at first.

"Now, why don't you come with me? I think my mother would love to see proof that I was a decent human being for once," he chuckled, lowering his arm to press a hand to her back. "We have plenty of room and the food is always good. It's plenty warm, too," he tried to urge, still not knowing that she could not really answer him. Even so, Stephen still made to step forward with her.

"You don't mind animals, though, do you? Dogs? Horses? We own quite a few, but they're all pretty friendly...for the most part. But let's get us some shelter for now at least, okay?" Right now he was more than willing to let his earlier frustrations go on the gamble that bringing home a, potentially, lost young lady would keep his mother occupied and off his case for a while and bide him some time. Even if she wasn't lost...well, she'd been crying and he knew his mother was a kind enough woman to help her even if she would be on her way shortly.

Vanora walked beside the man, listening intently to the sound of his voice and wishing she could understand his words as she nodded her head and smiled. Her attention though, was more focused on her surroundings, having never really ventured this far onto land before.

She kept close to the man and refused to let go of his waist. Sand gave way to a soft green rug that reminded her of seaweed. It tickled her legs and feet as she walked on it. A glance behind her showed her that it sprung back up again after being stepped on too. It made her giggle quietly at the sensation until something new caught her attention.

Her tears were quickly wiped away even if her red eyes could not be. There was just too much to see and experience, for her to be upset. For the moment it seemed she was allowed a brief reprieve from worrying about her coat as she splashed through a shallow stream and through more grass towards wherever the stranger was leading her.

Being focused on how cold he was with the wind still whipping his bare skin, Stephen only had thoughts for getting them to shelter. He paid no mind to her arm around him, figuring she probably just felt more secure following him like that. And he didn't mind it anyhow.

He didn't see her reactions to their surroundings either, and he missed the real reason for her soft giggling when he finally looked down to her again. "We're almost there, our land starts where those trees are. Just across the water? It's right there," he offered as he pointed toward the small group of trees partially blocking the view of his home from their side.

For his family the home was actually quite large, but to include all of the offices and servants' quarters, it was a miracle everything fit into one building. The barn behind the house, however, was newly refurbished and, Stephen thought, quite an impressive improvement of its former self. At least the horses had all the space they would ever need and more, but the gaudiness of it all was something he was absolutely sure was really only meant to impress the women his brother courted.

Until Idris returned, though, Stephen saw no need to mind his baby brother, especially now that this mysterious quiet lady would be there. At least, he hoped she would for a while. "See that path there? We're going through there," he prompted while pointing toward the worn line that began at the tree line and would bring them around and through to the other side where the dark grays and browns of the home would be more visible.

"Now...um, I'll apologize in advance for my mother. I'd bet anything she's going to like you. A lot. She never had a daughter, so...most female company is welcome by her. With open arms.  But at least she won't see you want for anything when I tell her how I found you," he chirped.

Leading them through and towards the house, he tensed momentarily when he noticed that his mother was sitting right by the front door. She was staring at him. No, this probably wasn't going to end well for him. "Momma, look who I found!" he called out to her, trying not to let the young woman on to the fight mother and son had had earlier.
"Why aren't you wearing a shirt?!" she shrieked back, causing Stephen to wince.
"She needed it! Not like I had a choice! I found her down by the beach!"
"The beach?! What were you doing all the way down there with a woman?!"
"No, found her at the beach! At the beach, Momma!" As he drew closer he finally continued and rushed to explain before she could cut him off, "She was cold and crying and I don't know why but she was alone and looked so upset...and I figured you'd be just the person to help pull her out of...whatever this is. She looked absolutely terrified."

His efforts did to calm that wild look in Anna-Marie's eyes, but the woman still kept a keen eye on the young lady only wearing her son's shirt for clothing. "She needs to be properly dressed," she grumbled as she stood up and flitted away from the door toward the approaching pair. "At least you had the mind to bring her to me."

The woman wore a simple brown dress, but it only did to draw out the blue in her eyes. She was small and her features were not nearly as sharp and fierce as her bark, but a frown was still there as she stood directly in front of Stephen to get him to stop as she glared up at him. "Stephen, run along. Just run along. Get dressed and tell your brother we have a guest." The last part was said with a friendlier look to Vanora as Anna-Marie reached out to place a hand to her shoulder.

With a roll of his eyes knowing that he'd narrowly dodged a bullet, Stephen did indeed release his hold on the stranger with an encouraging pat before he stepped around his mother to head off towards the house. "I'll be back soon, she'll take care of you," was all he left her with.

"Poor dear, you look so cold! I'll make sure we get you a nice bath going, and some fresh clothes -ladies clothes-, and hot food in your belly," the woman spoke while wrapping an arm around Vanora's shoulders to lead her after Stephen towards the house. "And if you want to stay, you're more than welcome to, dear. You can have a warm bed by a fire, too! In this weather it's such a dream... Oh, forgive me, I didn't even ask! Are you alright, dear? Did he forget to tell me you went and cut yourself on something? Got any bumps? Bruises? Scrapes? How are you feeling? Are you alright, sweetie? What's got you scared? That is, if my son's telling me the truth..." Anna-Marie looked at the young woman expectantly now as she closed the front door behind them and reached for a spare coat hanging by the door to drape over her for the time being.

She was just getting used to his soothing tones when they were greeted by another woman. If Vanora thought that her stranger was awfully talkative she had no idea what to call this newcomer. She chose to hide behind her new friend, for fear of the loud woman.

When the man moved to leave, she tried to follow but her shorter strides could not keep up and in no time she was left behind. Vanora could feel her heart race with fear as she left with this woman who seemed to have no need nor desire to breathe as she babbled on and on. It frightened the poor selkie and made her wish desperately that her friend had not abandoned her.

Vanora tried to shy away from the arm wrapped around her shoulders and quickened her steps as they entered the building. Wild eyes searched but could catch sight of the tall man. The selkie began to hyperventilate and tears spilled down her windblown cheeks as she realized that she had been left completely alone with this strange woman who could not for the life of her be still. 'He left me!'

Stephen was already in his room pulling on a fresh shirt by the time his mother had returned with Vanora. He had no idea the distress she was feeling until he heard the odd, strangled sounds coming from the foyer, but by then Anna-Marie's attention had already been drawn to the crying woman. For once, her hands hovered and flitted about nervously and wildly as she struggled to understand the sudden outburst from the young woman.

"Um, dear?" she tried to urge, unsure of where to settle her hands on the upset girl and finally just letting them fall to her sides. She stood tensely as she stared wide-eyed at her. "Oh, sweetie, it's alright!" she said, trying desperately to soothe her. "What's wrong?" Stephen finally poked his head out the door at the end of the hall at this only to see that it actually was Vanora crying.

"Momma, what did you do to her?" he groaned as he finished tucking his shirt into his trousers while heading back down the hall.
"I didn't do anything! I was trying to help and she just started...well, crying!" she squeaked. An exasperated sigh escaped Stephen as he drew closer, not wanting booming voices over the poor girl's head if she was this upset.

Vanora recoiled from the woman, unsure of her intentions. The tears turned into hiccups as her body began to shake and she took several small steps away from the loud female. 'Why did he leave me? Doesn't he want me? What is this place? Why won't she be quiet? Please come back. Don't leave me here alone!'

On and on her thoughts went, spiraling further into a frantic state of mind. The moment Vanora heard the male's voice she was moving in his direction. Every step she took became faster than the last until she was full out sprinting to him.

She latched onto him, holding him tightly around them middle and burying her head into his shirt. Then, the memory of the woman still behind her had the selkie scuttling behind her stranger. Vanora continued to cling to him and sobbed, too frightened to let go. 'Stay. Don't leave. Please, I beg you. Don't leave me again.'

He didn't get very far, though, until he realized he was watching her make a run for him and was on a direct course to crash into him. Freezing and putting his arms out to try and get her to slow down as a panicked look entered his face, his actions weren't fast enough to stop her from clinging to him like she was. She was still crying, too.

Stopped and standing absolutely still for a moment, Stephen cast a confused look down to his mother who had just begun to take a few cautious steps toward them. "Seriously, Momma, what happened? I can't step away for a moment or two?" he complained.
"No! She just started...crying! I'm not sure what's going on, Stephen," she pleaded, her eyes taking on a look of confusion that mirrored her son's.

Once Vanora had succeeded in putting him between herself and his mother he finally lowered his stiff arms and turned his head to look back at her. "Hey, what's got you so upset, huh?" he tried again while trying to turn himself around to face her.
"We mean well, I promise," he added, still trying to persuade her.

His presence was soothing and allowed Vanora to calm herself. Her breathing slowed and became even once more and the tears slid down her cheeks in a slower and less frequent manner. She continued to refuse to let go of him though, even as her grip loosened slightly. The selkie was not about to let him be taken from her again. Not even this woman would drive her away.

Vanora nuzzled her head into his back as the tears began to cease. She wished she could make the sounds that would explain it all to him. She wanted to tell him how much she needed him to stay, to not leave her. Every second that passed had her cursing her ever curious nature. Without it she never would have gotten into this whole mess to begin with.

Making a decision, she slowly peaked her head out from behind him to look at the woman. Her body though curled closer to him though, as if to seek protection from his lithe form. Tear-filled eyes looked out forlornly before dropping to the floor. Taking a shaky breath she spoke her first word barely above a whisper. "Vanora."

The way she clung to him was such an odd experience for Stephen. Never before had he seen a woman so afraid of...well, anything, that she would have this strong of a reaction. He didn't realize it only added to her distress that he'd left her sight, but her behavior as she began to calm down again started to clue him into some of what was actually going on; the fact that she hadn't spoken a word to him yet. And just when he thought this would lead him to the answer he was thinking of, that she couldn't speak, she shattered that notion as he watched her while the soft voice of a stranger pricked his senses.

Twisting his torso to place a hand to her back, Stephen tried to coax her to release him with small amounts of pressure there. "Vanora?" he repeated slowly. "Is that your name, then? Vanora?"
"What? What did she say?!"
"Shh! Please, Momma, I think she was trying to tell us something..."

She resisted his attempts to disentangle her, much preferring to remain where she was. While unable to understand him, she knew a question when she heard one. Vanora opened her mouth to repeat herself when that dratted woman spoke once more.

The selkie flinched violently, hiding herself behind the man once more and tightened her grip on his shirt. She whimpered and mewled softly, not liking any of this one bit. All she wanted was to get her coat and go home. The lives of the land-dwellers was no where near as fun and wondrous as she had expected. She was more than ready to return to the sea now.

Stephen had yet to clue into why she felt the need to cling to him and make him her human shield, but right now he thought that there was something she was afraid of here for she had not reacted so strongly to anything else since he'd brought her there. "She really is afraid," he thought aloud with a sad little shrug of his shoulders as the vibrations of her mewling and whimpering were felt against his skin.

"I think it would be better if I took her back outside for now, Momma," he suggested while taking a few tentative, small steps forward to try and get her moving again if she was so set on glueing herself to him.
"Well, I'll make sure a bath is ready for her anyway," Anna-Marie insisted. "And fresh clothes. And I'll have the cook round up some breakfast for her... And that mess of hair needs to be combed, too. And--"
"Handle the necessities, if you would, please. We can worry about her hair after she's settled down," Stephen sighed as he tried to move them along a little further toward the door.
"Um...is your name Vanora? Is that what you were trying to tell us?" he directed to the selkie woman while tentatively inching his way closer until he was able to open the door for them and step outside.

Vanora kept close, making sure that her living shield was always between her and the squawking woman. The moment they were outside she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The calm and freedom of outdoors allowed her to relax and even release her grip completely, although she did keep close to him.

She looked up at him shyly and tried again. The selkie moved her heads so that her fingertips pressed into her chest and the backs of her knuckles of both hands pressed against each other. "Vanora," she repeated before moving her hands out, palm up to him. Vanora repeated the gesture and her name once more before waiting for him to respond. Anxiety was beginning to form as she wondered if he could even understand her. 'This was a very bad idea.'

It wasn't lost on him how she gradually relaxed her hold on him once they were out. Finally able to move more freely again, he turned to face her properly and watched her and her shy mannerisms with interest. Following her hands and watching how she settled them close against her chest, the singular word was almost lost on him for the wandering eyes that had already begun a slow trail down her body. "Oh, Vanora?" he perked up, snapping to attention to find himself staring instead at her outstretched hands.

Lazy eyes followed the motions again, nodding as she repeated the word and, he presumed, her name. Standing there just staring at her open palms it took him more than a few moments to figure out what she might have been asking. "Oh! Oh, me? Um..." Slowly curling his hands to mimic her earlier movements.

Once his hands were pressed like hers had been, his eyes widened considerably with honest uncertainty. "Stephen...?" he asked, nodding as he was still unsure if this was what she wanted. Figuring it would just be best to copy her, he held his hands out to her for a moment before bringing them back to repeat it all again. "Stephen. That's my name, is that what you wanted to know..., Vanora?"

A bright smile warmed her features as he finally caught on. Vanora repeated her motion once more but this time add the "Stephen," to the end. She let her hands dropped to her side as she opened her mouth to speak. Then, with a click it closed again and a shadow crossed her face.

'What do I even say? I must make a good impression. He has been so kind thus far, I mustn't ruin that. Breathe Vanora, Stephen seems patient enough.' Licking her lips nervously she tried again. The words came out sounding much like the waves of the sea, some soothing while others crashing, as she tried to express herself and get her point across with hand movements to match her words.

"Deas bualadh leat. An raibh a ghoideann tú mo chóta? An féidir liom go bhfuil sé ar ais anois? Tá sé chomh fuar. Le do thoil? Cé a bhí an bhean sin? Bhí sí an-noisy. Tá tú milis cé." Vanora, chuckled nervously and bowed her head as her cheeks reddened. 'Should not have said that last bit.'

After watching her do it all again and say his name Stephen smiled and nodded again, unsure of what her customs might have been after formal greetings. Seeing that she'd lowered her arms, though, he copied that as well. From there he was uncertain of what to do next with the quiet stranger who had suddenly found her voice. Ironically, it seemed she'd lost it again by the looks of it.

Not sure himself what she might want to talk about or even understand now, though, he decided to keep his mouth shut as her own appeared gasping for words like a fish for water. The speech that followed, though, was surprising as a blast of hot air for Stephen and he was frozen and wide-eyed at the sounds that tumbled forth. Mouth agape, he stood stiffly until the words, or at least what he thought were words, had stopped. "Uh..."

In the time it'd taken for their exchange to get this far, Anna-Marie had found her way back to the foyer and was listening to them now with her ear glued to the door. "I'm sorry, pretty lady, I'm not sure I understand what you're saying..., at all, really. But you said your name is Vanora, right?" he asked, lifting a hand to gesture to her. Scratching his head, he now regretted not paying more attention to much of his studies as a boy. "Idris might know what you're saying... Unless you can speak any more Common?" he asked, hopeful but still doubtful that she might say anything more that he could understand right now.

When he continued to speak in his own tongue, she knew it had been a lost cause. He did not understand and nor did she. Her shoulders slumped as she let out a defeated sigh. Vanora pursed her lips together in frustration as she stared off back towards the path they had taken.

"A leithéid de rón beag amaideach." She returned her attention back to him. Although the smile she gave him now was not as bright as before. Vanora was already beginning to feel the deep yearnings for her beloved sea. The wonder of the unknown faded with each challenge she encountered. First the loss of her coat, then the woman, and now her lack of communication. It was disheartening.

The selkie did not know what to do. She could not stay but she could not go. The sea was no longer her home for as long as she was without her skin. The land would never be her home though. "Baile," she murmured mournfully. Vanora shivered as an autumn breeze nipped at her bare legs and feet. "Ba mhaith liom dul abhaile."

Watching her now, all he could do was watch her body language. All he was getting was a sense of impatience, at what he did not know. Stephen could not even begin to understand her difficulties, but he was still quite certain of one thing. "Vanora," he spoke slowly. "I hope you can understand a little of what I'm saying... Maybe speaking is your rough spot?" He stopped himself there, though, as he observed her shivering and sad tones. Unfortunately, he had no idea what she really wanted.

"Here, come back inside," he coaxed, gesturing back towards the door they just come from while taking a few steps closer to it. Unaware of Anna-Marie eavesdropping, he backed toward it and opened it one-handed only to hear the well-known shriek of surprise from his loud mother. Wincing, he twirled to clap a hand to her mouth with a warning glare. "Please, Mother!" he pleaded, glancing back worriedly with hopes that Vanora hadn't been frightened again. "At least be helpful, would you? Blankets for her? Or a coat? She's cold...and I don't know what to do with her."

Glaring at her son, Anna-Marie smacked the back of his hand as she turned on her heel. "The nerve of you! Shame!" she chided even as she flitted away to ready her youngest son's room for their guest and fetch the heavier coat he'd left behind at home. She had it set in her mind already what would be done for the girl. "Your brother won't be home until tomorrow evening at the earliest, Stephen... Your father even longer than that. Here, dear," she dropped the black bear fur over his arm before disappearing once again to fetch something more proper for the girl to wear.

Rolling his eyes at his mother's declarations, he shrugged and held the coat out expectantly for her to step into anyway. "She acts like he never comes home early," he explained with a small smile.

Vanora followed closely at the man's heels. Despite their lack of communication he seemed nice enough. It was better to stay with him than to be left alone with that woman. However, the sudden appearance of said individual sent the selkie into another hiding spree. Her small hands fisted bunches of Stephen's shirt tightly as she buried her head into the his back.

"Coinnigh an ollphéist ar shiúl ó dom!" Their arguing was not helping her fragile nerves and she tensed in anticipation of blows that never came. Instead she was greeted by the man's gentle tones and the sight of some sort of giant fur.

Unsure of what she was doing but, having an idea based on what she had seen other humans do, Vanora slipped her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it close around her. The selkie found it warm and soft, her shivers quickly abating. She smiled warmly up at Stephen in thanks and gave his arm a tight squeeze. "Go raibh maith agat."

He was relieved to see that she at least understood his gesture. An encouraging smile twitched at his lips as he watched her put it on. "My mother," he began while pointing in the direction his mother had disappeared off to, "is going to find you some real clothes to wear. And you can sleep in my brother's room tonight, alright?"

We don't want you having to go back out in the cold. I'd...really like to know that we won't find you crying again, too," he ended with a sadder look in his eyes before trying to coax, "Where are you from?" Slowly, Stephen began to walk down the hallway to the room they wanted to put her up in. At the least, he thought, she might not be frightened if he introduced it to her instead of his mother.

Anna-Marie, though, while having good intentions, was also having trouble grasping that there were people that saw things differently than she, that for some it might not be so strange to go around in anything but the style of dress that was currently commonplace. She was embarrassed for the family, too, and hoped that no one of influence had seen her son and this mystery woman while they had both been half-dressed. Finally returning to Idris's room, she proudly held out a pale blue dress to present to them along with a pair of matching shoes.

"I think this would be better, don't you think, dear? More appropriate than that shirt. Barely covers her behind!" she exclaimed, though that was far from the truth.

"That's not true, mother," he groaned, gesturing to the girl. "And she's wearing a coat now. You can't see her anyway."

"What do you think, dear?" she asked, ignoring her son as she watched Vanora expectantly, despite the way the girl had reacted to her previously.

"She can wear it tomorrow, mother, I doubt she wants to get all dressed up now, it's nearly dusk!" Stephen protested, slightly wide-eyed at the idea and fear he had of his mother pushing her too far.

She listened to his voice, uncomprehending of the words. Everything here was so grand, so different than the life she knew. Her eyes widened as she took in each new sight. It was all so exciting to her. Vanora wondered what all these things were for. 'We have nothing like this at home. Such different and strange creatures these people are.'

The new room she had been taken too had been enough for the selkie to relinquish her hold on Stephen. She quickly freed herself and began looking about the room. The large rectangle in the center though held most of her attention. Placing a hand on it had revealed the softness of the fabric adorning it. With a curious tilt of her head she turned to her companion in question.

Vanora had nearly called out to him too until that woman returned again. 'Always that woman! Who is she? Why won't she just leave?' The selkie's stance became firmer and she stood up straight. There was a hardness in her gaze and stance that demanded caution. She was angry at all these intrusions. All of the excitement of the day was making her exhausted and like any child she was on the verge of becoming a very grumpy individual.

Her eyes narrowed to thin slits as she took in the blue fabric the misshapen gull was holding. 'Now what does she want? I wonder what that is. Looks like,' she looked down at herself and then up again at the woman, 'human skins? Is this what they wear instead of coats?' Vanora looked over to Stephen worriedly. 'If he had my coat I must appease him. Oh how I wish I had it back!'

A single tear slid down her face as she stiffly approached the woman and jerkily reached out for the dress. She licked her lips nervously, not knowing what to say. For a moment she considered looking up to Stephen in a silent plea for direction but thought better of it and just nodded her head in thanks. It would not due for her companion to think her weak or stupid. 'I'll show him I'm the best selkie he's ever seen!'

It was the look upon her face that did it for him. He knew he had to put his foot down. Turning as Vanora began to approach his mother, an irritated scowl fixed upon his face as he glared at her even as the younger woman was polite enough to take the things from her. "You are the worst hostess I've ever seen, mother. Ever."

"I suppose you've been to enough little parties and gatherings to make that call? I was young once, too, you know! Oh! Thank you, dear, I do hope you like them. I hope they fit nicely, but that can be adjusted if need be," Anna-Marie finished with a chirp at Vanora's acceptance of her offerings.

Groaning and nudging at his mother's shoulder in a poor attempt to steer her out the door, Stephen continued, "This isn't about you! You can see we've come an awful long way and yet you continue to pester her! There's no need for this. There is nothing improper about helping her. I found her crying, mother! Crying! ...you soulless harpy."

"Just because there's a lady you're trying to impress doesn't mean you get to call me names!" she exclaimed with a surprised, irritated , and teary-eyed gasp as she boxed her son's ear. He, however, merely blinked for the intrusion.

"Give her time to settle in, that's all I ask. At least give her time to warm up to us enough to talk. Deal?"

"...there will be no relations. I didn't bring you up to father any bast—."

"Mother! Deal or not?"

"As long as there are no relations between you two," she answered smugly. "Deal."

Finally relaxing some now that he was making a bit of headway, Stephen finally turned to face Vanora again with a sheepish smile as his mother exited and shut the door after herself. "I won't be staying, obviously, but is there anything you need before I leave? Should order a bath drawn for you? Extra pillows, perhaps? I won't be far if you end up needing me later, but so long as you're comfortable enough..." he trailed off when he realized he'd be staring at the end of a drying tear upon her cheek. Immediately his expression turned back to one of concern.

"What's wrong, Vanora?" he coaxed gently, unsure what might be the matter and completely oblivious to the fact that he'd missed that particular detail before.

A quick motion of her hand brushed away the errant tear as Vanora offered up a wobbly smile. Her hands lifted the heavy blue fabric to bring Stephen's attention to it. Unable to verbally convey her gratitude, she simply called her stranger by name and then bowed slightly over her gift, her eyes remaining warmly on the taller man's own pair.

The selkie stood straight once more, her focus caught on the odd item the woman had given her. Holding it up and allowing it to unfold itself as it hung between her slender fingers, Vanora could not help but tilt her head and furrow her brow in bewilderment.

'What in the great seas do I do with this?'

"Stephen?" she repeated, holding the dress up towards him. Her shoulders shrugging in a sigh of confusion. "Cabhair?"

His face softened a bit at the sight of that smile. He was unsure what exactly she was bowing for, but it seemed she understood his name at least now. Unfortunately, that was all he was certain of with her: Names. Seeing her hold out the dress, though, prompted another worried look from Stephen while gingerly reaching out to take hold of the dress.

Slowly folding it over his arm, the man looked back to make sure his mother wasn't coming back again before bringing up such a sensitive topic. "She was giving you this as a gift," he tried to explain, patting the garment before pointing down at the shoes beside the door. "And those, too. The shoes.

"Do you not like them? Would you rather have something else instead, Vanora?" 

Confusedly, Vanora looked from garment to man to shoes, unsure of what she was seeing and the meanings behind them. "Stephen?" she asked again, pointing from the dress on his arm to the man himself. Her brow furrowed. "Vanora?" she questioned aloud, this time pointing from the dress to herself. She did the gesture a second time, trying to ascertain who the fabric was for and what it was for.

The Selkie woman took in her stranger's appearance before looking down at herself. The things by the door looked like the things on the banshee's feet. Stephen had similar things on his feet as well. A wiggle of her own toes reminded her of how cold and sore her little feet were, completely bare in comparison to her new friend's own pair save for smudges of dirt and bits of sand.

Again she pointed, this time at the shoes and then to her own feet. "Vanora ar? An bhfuil siad mianach?" It was all so stressful for the young woman. She did know what to do, what to say. She did wish to offend this man who had been nothing but kind to her and who had defended her from the screecher. But, in turn this was all so new for her. More than anything she was beginning to wish for her own coat and loving embrace of the sea.

Her fingers unconsciously fingered the garment Stephen had been kind enough to wrap about her shoulder and to shield her from the harsh winds. 'I best give this back. He'll be wanting his own skin back just as much as I be wanting mine. There's no wind here to protect me from. I wish I could thank him. If only I knew the words, Vanora lamented as she began peeling the heavy fabric from her body, revealing inches and inches of pale skin with every movement that she made.

His face slowly twisted into a look of disappointment at the questioning look in her eyes. As she spoke, though, he tried mimicking the movements she'd just made, pointing to the clothes and then to her. "For you, Vanora. They're for you," he spoke slowly, making sure each word was as clear as he could make it, but he was still unsure if she understood him.

When he realized she was starting to disrobe he felt an odd mixture of relief at her possible indication of understanding and fear of his mother "catching" them at such an inopportune moment. "No no no no no!" he practically screeched, his voice getting louder and tighter with each successive "no" as he held one hand out at her and started turning his head away to limit what he saw of her.

"Just wait! Or...well, you don't have to wait to change. But you do! You need to wait until I'm out of here because I can't see you like this! So just...wait... I'll go. If you need me I'll be right down the hall! Good night, Vanora! I'll...see you in the morning. Maybe we can talk more then. Over breakfast." Stephen was beginning to walk away now. He stared at the ground as he backed away and shut the door before heading for his own room so he didn't see something she might not have intended for him to see. Or rather, what he'd learned most human girls did not want men to see by accident.

"Over breakfast, alright?" he called back once more, not waiting for a response as he headed down the hall with progressively reddening cheeks. The last thing he wanted was to make their guest uncomfortable.

Neither Anna-Marie nor Stephen knew how close Idris actually was. It was getting darker by the minute now but he knew the lands well. He figured he could safely bet he would be home in a matter of hours, in the middle of the night: the perfect time to sneak in quiet and unnoticed and finally be able to sleep in his own bed again.

Vanora continued peeling the coat off her shoulders even as her host protested for she did not understand his words. Her movements quickened as he scuttled out until she stood there before the door as naked as he had found her, coat in hand and him down the hall.

"Stephen? Cén fáth?" she called out quietly and sadly. The Selkie held up the coat for a few moments more before kneeling down and folding it as carefully and neatly as she could manage so that she could place it in a perfect square in front of the door in case Stephen should return for it after all.

A second look around the room left gown and shoes abandoned as the bed was given a third look over until she gathered up enough courage to reach out and feel the softness of the fabric. It reminded her of the comfort of the sand-beds she and her kin would make with seaweed blankets for the nights they slept ashore.

It took some maneuvering and exploring but she eventually dragged herself up into the center of the mattress and under the covers to fall into a heavy, peaceful sleep filled with dreams of a seal coat and "the good man."

His horse squealed fussily as a rabbit darted between its legs. It startled him and he realized then he'd been drifting to sleep in his saddle.

Lifting his head to look up at the moon above as he patted the mare's neck, Idris wondered if he should start relegating these tedious and time-consuming trips to his brother. After all, if he expected to still live there he needed to start contributing more. He also pondered the idea of simply hiring someone to do it for him, but then he was reminded of the sad truth of his assets being mostly...the land. And he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to give up any of it either, but the thought of just selling most of it off and being free of the burden of it...was delicious and oh so enticing.

Leaving his mount in the stable Idris all but ran for the house. He kicked off his boots at the door and hurried down the hall to his room. Going in immediately he made a beeline for the wardrobe in the corner so he could undress and finally get out of his travel clothes. He didn't notice nor expect anything to be amiss, but if he'd so much as glanced about the room he would have noticed that there were things that didn't belong, including the stranger in his bed.

The Selkie startled awake with a soft squeak as the strange man entered the room and began rummaging around in the tall structure filled with clothes. Her dark seal eyes watched him wide-eyed in the dark, seeing him as clearly as she would in the daylight.

While familiar, it was not Stephen, that much she knew. Who this man was, was unknown to her. One of them did not belong and she felt in this moment that it was him. Her Stephen had brought her here not him. This was her nest, he could go find another one.

Keeping as still and quiet as possible, Vanora kept a wary eye on the man as he went about whatever it was he was doing. If it was possible her eyes would have widened further as he began to disrobe, but not really understanding the need to feel shame, she continued to watch unabashed, prepared to cry out for help should she need it.

'Perhaps he will go away. He just needs his coat like I need mine. That's all it is,' she tried desperately to console herself.

His weary eyes never once lifted from his task until it was finished and he was changed into softer things for sleeping. Even though he was tired from his day, though, he plucked a small notebook from an inside pocket of his riding coat and held it in his teeth as he walked over to his bed and fumbled for a few moments to light a candle to read by. As soon as the dull light flooded his bedside, though, he yanked back the covers.

He was halfway to jumping right into the middle of his bed when he finally realized someone else had already beat him to it. Furiously blinking as he stared at this woman in disbelief, Idris's jaw slowly went slack and his book went tumbling to land with a gentle thud on the bed he hovered over.

In silence he wondered if she was a ghost..., but no she was probably an assassin, or a thief, or just some beggar woman that managed to wander into his home. "Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in?" he demanded, snatching up his book as if it alone could be some mighty weapon if she became violent.

Vanora's eyes widened comically as she scooted as far away on the bed from the man as she could get. The warm covers were clutched tightly to her chest not out of a desire to hide her nakedness but as one to shield herself from any possible attack. She could not understand the words spoken but every line of the man's body spoke of tension. If that was not enough for her, his voice too sounded strained and loud.

The Selkie was frightened by him. She did not knew he was and the more she observed him the more she came to the conclusion that she was not expected to be there. 'Maybe he's a thief,' she thought nervously, knowing of those things for they existed as much under the sea as above it. 'He doesn't belong here. I need to get help. My Stephen needs to know.'

Eyes darting about nervously, she took a deep breath before crying out as loudly as she could. At first it sounded more like the barking cry of a seal until gaining, a handle on her fear she began to scream out the only common word she knew, "Stephen!"

Idris stumbled back from the bed, startled by the unusual sound of this woman's cries. He furrowed his brow in irritation. If anything, he should be the one getting upset! As her scream changed, however, he picked up on his older brother's name instantly. "Stephen?! You know Stephen?!" he wondered, purely puzzled by this mystery woman. Turning to the door, Idris set down the book just as he heard footsteps thundering down the hall.

Stephen burst into the bedroom and stared at Vanora curled up in bed and screaming. Startled to see his brother there, he paled and stood frozen for a moment before rushing to her side and wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Vanora! Don't be afraid! I'm sorry, I made a huge mistake, I thought he wouldn't be home!" he pleaded apologetically, both to her and to his brother standing staring at them.

"What's the meaning of this!?" Idris demanded.
"Nothing! I just thought you wouldn't be home so... I found her on the beach, she needed a place to stay for the night! And I wanted her to have her own room!" he whined.
"You could have told me! Left me a note, something! Geez! I just come in here and there's a woman in my bed!" he complained, rubbing at his face in irritation.
"Just! Quit shouting!" Stephen pleaded, rubbing at Vanora's back. "Sleep somewhere else, we can sort this out in the morning, please?" And then he was ignoring his brother, focusing on Vanora. "Are you alright? I'm sorry he frightened you, we weren't expecting him home yet. He'll go away now. Don't worry!"

Idris frowned, disappointed that he was being forced out of his own room in his own home. He stared at the woman as Stephen attempted to comfort her, unsure what kind of situation there really was or how long she'd been staying without his permission, unless his brother was telling the truth. He didn't even think it was his fault that he'd frightened her. He had been just as scared! Finding a stranger in his bed was not something he'd ever anticipated. "Don't you think I'm owed an apology from him, too?" he asked her, a pout on his lips and his voice considerably calmed as he sat upon the edge of the bed, refusing to leave yet.

With wide green eyes, Vanora's gaze bounced from man to man in rapid movements as she tried to follow the conversation that her ears could not understand. Her Stephen seemed to be handling the situation though as he barked angrily towards the other male, forcing him to back down just like the boys always did back home in the face of a full-grown male.

Comforting arms reached to soothe her and the Selkie woman allowed herself to melt into the gentle caresses as they calmed her frazzled nerves. Her screaming had stopped soon with the arrival of her stranger's commanding presence. Vanora's head rested against his shoulder, her hands relaxing their fierce grip on the blankets while she kept her perceptive gaze on the newest stranger.

She squeaked in surprise and fright when he came to sit on the bed and look to her while talking. Hurriedly, she scuttled backwards on the bed, pressing flat against the headboard of the bed and attempting to crawl behind Stephen.

"Stephen!" she squeaked out again uncertainly. While the other male certainly looked a bit like an ignored pup that did not mean she trusted him yet. She had seen many a sea creature become over-confident in the face of a wounded prey and suffer fatal wounds for it. Vanora was not going to allow herself to be swept away by this creature's charm and she would have told him as much if she only had the words to express herself. Instead she glared from over Stephen's shoulder with a look of contempt and discomfort. It simply was not fair that her sleep was disturbed by this nuisance of a man, not fair at all.

"It's okay! It's okay, I promise," he pleaded, hugging her once more and having no idea how she glared at his younger brother. Idris raised a brow, wondering why she wouldn't answer him.
"Is that all she knows?" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Your name?"
"No! She's said... Well..." Stephen couldn't exactly describe what Vanora had said to him. All he knew of her was her name and the fact that she didn't seem to speak a word of Common. "Well, she's told me her name. It's Vanora."
"Vanora, hm? That's all she's told you? She hasn't said anything else the whole day? That's highly suspicious, Stephen, are you sure she isn't a thief?" he admonished.
"Yes! I mean, she isn't!" he floundered, giving Vanora an apologetic look. "She just seemed so...lost. It's hard to explain.
"Well, you'll have to in the morning, but I'm sleeping here tonight," he replied firmly. Stephen paled and gritted his teeth.
"She must sleep here, I've told her she could, Idris!" he complained.

It was then that Idris looked Vanora in the eye, staring back at her with curious, if tired, eyes. "Then you offer her your own bed instead of I'll put a pillow between us if she's so stubborn. I'm not being kicked out of my room when I just returned home from such a lengthy trip.

Stephen sighed and put Vanora at arm's length, putting himself between her and his brother. "Do you want to stay? Or would you like to move to my room? He's being selfish," he tried to explain, unsure what she might understand of it.
"Don't lie to her!" Idris growled tiredly. Stephen rolled his eyes.
"Okay, I'm being selfish in wanting to give you your own room for the night, as a lady. But what would you like to do? I can try to make him leave..."

Vanora continued to glare from over Stephen's shoulder even has he held her close and comfortingly. While she could not understand the stranger's words she recognized the tone of hatred and felt a similar rising of disgust within her own breast. His condescending tone was universal in any language and the Selkie woman had have a mind to give him a stern talking to for that alone.

Instead of responding though to the obvious statements about her person, she sneered moments before crossing her arms over her chest and letting her gaze turn to the wall and away from the men. How dare this stranger talk to her so and distress her Stephen on top of it!

Her indifferent attitude could not last though. Vanora was not that kind of girl and the moment the newcomer sitting at the bottom of the bed growled out angrily she was flinching and pressing close against Stephen's chest again. Her arms clung tightly to his shirt as her face buried into his shoulder.

"Stephen," she started softly in a shaky voice, "le do thoil a dhéanamh dó dul ar shiúl." Her words were tinged with her weariness and homesickness. It had been a long day and with the coming of night and new challenges, Vanora found she missed her home and her skin more than anything right now. For the moment the excitement of meetings humans and interacting with them had worn off. All she wanted to do was go home.

"Déan dó dul ar shiúl."

At a loss of what to say to her alien words, Stephen smiled sadly and selfishly tried to assure her, "You'll be alright, Vanora. He's usually quite friendly, I promise that nothing will happen to you, alright? He won't hurt you, he won't even put his hands on you. You have my word."

Idris rolled his eyes and shook his head, knowing full well his elder brother was going to stick him with this woman or force him to be the bad guy by forcing her out because he was unwilling to give up anything for her comfort in this situation. "Yes, yes, not a hand on the lady," he sighed, stubbornly crawling up the bed. "Now get out, Stephen, I need rest." Yanking down his side of the covers, he was grumbling already at the realization that she was practically in the center of the bed. He made do with what he had, though, and pulled down a pillow to stuff between them so they wouldn't even come close to touching. "There," he announced, turning to lie on his back and try to relax his aching body.

Satisfied, Stephen hugged Vanora once more and placed a quick, unthinking kiss to her forehead before he pulled away and stepped down to the floor. "Don't worry. I'll see you in the morning," he promised her, turning and heading out though he didn't even notice the neatly folded and placed items of clothing by the door.

"Just don't be angry at me," Idris said with a sigh once his brother was gone. "This is my bed, but my brother is far too selfish to truly share with a guest of this house. So I'll be the better man."

The Selkie squeaked and curled up tighter as the stranger joined her on the bed. Accusing green eyes glared out from behind chocolate waves of curls. How dare this man come in here and steal her nest. It had been given to her, she should be able to keep it then.

She clung tightly to her Stephen, wishing that the other man who looked him would just go away. It simply was not fair. Vanora did not want to be left alone with this stranger and she wished that they understood her tell them so. But it was no use.

Stephen left even as she gave a pitiful whimper of his name, forsaking her to company of this other human. With a deep breath she steeled herself into looking him over only to find he had stuffed one of the soft pillows in between them. Tilting her head curiously to observe it, Vanora made the conclusion that she had been doing it all wrong to begin with. Tentatively, she reached out and dragged her own pillow to sit next to his between them.

A nod of her head showcased her pride in remedying the situation. If only it meant this one would leave too. Perhaps talking to him would help though. It certainly had when she had first talked to Stephen. He had been kind enough to take her in and now this man too it seemed. Maybe that was why he had left them both alone. He trusted them together. That had to mean she had to too. At the very least she needed to try.

Vanora nervously poked the stranger in the shoulder while watching him with frightened doe-eyes. Hair was brushed behind an ear and teeth chewed her bottom lip. "Vanora," she quietly intoned, pointing at her heart while hoping he would understand. "Vanora."

Stephen felt only a twinge of guilt for leaving her "alone" for the night. He didn't think his brother would harm her, but he didn't want to force her into vulnerability either. And, surely, their mother would have both of their heads for "arranging it" or how she would call it at least. Once the door was shut behind him he walked on, back to the comfort and silence of his own, solitary bedroom.

Idris, however, was fitful despite his exhaustion from his trip. He fell silent and just stared at the ceiling as she moved about and adjusted something out of his view between them. Shifting as close to the edge of the bed as possible, he gradually allowed his eyes to rest. It was only a moment, though, before he felt her presence there and he flinched instinctively for her poking. Jumping only slightly, though, his eyes shot open and he lifted his head to stare at her there in the darkness.

Watching what movement he could see, Idris leaned to sit up slightly, propping himself up by his elbow and ready to leave if she demanded it of him, as he expected she might do. Instead, though, she was saying a word. More specifically, it was the name Stephen claimed was her own. Seeing how she pointed at herself, he tiredly lifted a hand to point at her as well, though he had no idea how her eyesight was in such darkness. "So you are Vanora?" he said.

For a moment he just stared, wondering if she really knew anything else in Common, though he didn't doubt she knew the language he'd heard her speak as it seemed nothing like anything he had ever heard before. "Vanora," he repeated, the word coming slowly and heavily from his lips. Slowly, as to not alarm her, he twisted his lazy, limp wrist on himself to touch at his breast. "Idris," he told her. "My name is Idris. Would you like me...Idris, to leave, Vanora?"

She nodded her head at hearing her name, repeating it softly to confirm that she was indeed Vanora. Stephen had not been making that fact up. "Idris?" was her repeated question as she pointed at him in turn. The name sounded funny on her tongue and so she repeated it a few more times, trying to make it sound right.

"Idris Vanora?" came her confused repetition. Unable to understand the rest of the phrase and only recognizing the two names, Vanora just shrugged her shoulders. She feared committing to something that she did not understand or in turn insulting the man currently sharing her nest.

A tired sigh escaped her without her care as her thin bare shoulders slumped in defeat. "Codlah?" her soft question was voiced as she brought her hands up in a prayer fashion to rest against her cheek in a symbol of resting one's head to rest.

"Just Idris," he insisted, unsure how to take her joining of their names. Her odd language was just as foreign to him as it had been initially, unfortunately. At first he just shrugged, frustrated and unsure how he was supposed to communicate with her as she seemed to understand names well enough.

Once he saw how she was holding her hands, though, he gave a light snort and chuckle of understanding as he recognized it as something his mother had used when he was a child. "Sleep," he said after a moment, nodding. "You're tired. Well, so am I." Lying back down and getting comfortable, Idris pulled the covers over his chest and closed his eyes.

"Goodnight, Vanora."

More and more Vanora wished that she understood this foreign tongue that the humans all seemed to converse in. If she only knew what they wanted from her, if she could only ask them where her coat was, all would be so much better. With the coat, the Selkie could once more return the loving embrace of the sea which she called home.

Caught ashore without her coat she was left feeling more naked than physically. She did not understand what was happening around her and could do nothing but helplessly watch on as the so-named Idris laid down on his back.

Slowly, she slid down in the bed, resting her head upon her arm as a pillow to watch him from on her side. Breathing softly and slowly, Vanora waited, not knowing what to expect, if anything. It had not even registered to her that the blankets had fallen to her waist and left her exposed from the waist up until she began to shiver with gooseflesh.

Bundling the blankets up close, she tried to curl up against the wall of pillows between them to seek warmth. Her top arm and leg both came to curl around the wall as if she were embracing another body for warmth. 'My skin. My skin. If only I had it, I would not be so cold. I just want to go home. It's so cold and frightening here. Why did I ever leave? I am such a fool!'

Thoroughly exhausted from his day and travels and unaware of the way he was being watched, the young man slept peacefully through the night. By the time he awoke he'd forgotten that the woman was in the room with him and sleepily rolled onto his side to face her.

Tousled hair splayed across his pillow as his lips moved silently in half-dreams. Unintelligible whispered words eventually began to emerge, but they were silenced again just as quickly when he began opening his eyes. Something felt different about the bed, but he wasn't quite remembering Vanora yet as he pushed through the haze of morning.

"Mmm," he groaned, slowly turning onto his stomach and then pushing his face against the bed to hide from the sun assaulting him from the window.

Feeling the shifting about coming from the other end of the bed, Vanora mewled softly and snuggled further around her pillow wall. In the night it had been flattened a great deal beneath her so that now she laid mostly on top of it rather than beside it. The morning sun warmed her bare back where the covers had slipped down in the night.

She stretched and yawned softly before nuzzling into the pillows for more sleep. Her hand though came to rest splayed out against Idris' smooth back. In her drowsy state, she thought nothing of it, believing it was just one of her family whose nest was close to her own on the warm beach.

Her small hand went unnoticed at first, the warmth no different to him than the angled slit of sunlight that was assaulting his room. The young woman beside him forgotten, Idris curled in on himself as he reached out blindly to find and bring the covers back over himself again. The initial cold of them caused him to shiver, but he was holding out for the added warmth to come.

Soon enough, though, he realized that there was something resting against him. Drowsily turning his head, he peeked out over his shoulder through the tiniest of slits for the offending sun. Letting his eyes focus, he finally saw the curved, naked back of the woman who'd refused to leave the previous night. The hint at her nakedness immediately brought a blush to his cheeks as he opened his eyes more. He couldn't deny that she seemed unusually comfortable for a stranger. It made him wonder if something had happened in the night. No, you're definitely clothed...

Gulping, he cautiously turned towards her and reached out to pull the covers back over her body, lest she awaken and call him out for something he didn't do. Plucking her wrist up carefully, he tries to place it closer to her so that he could slide out of bed without disturbing her. It was a strange feeling for him, to wake up next to someone, and he truly wasn't sure what to do or how to handle himself with this disruption in his routine. Could he simply go about his normal business with her there? Well of course he should. It was his room after all. His domain. His turf and belongings. She was simply an uninvited guest that had been forced upon him. It wouldn't be his responsibility to ensure anything beyond her safety within his house. It was the least he could do for someone unfortunate enough to have been -or at least he suspected- dragged there by his idiotic brother.

Vanora sighed, a soft smile flitting across her peaceful face as she burrowed into the covers that had unknowingly been pulled up around her. She did whine slightly in her sleep to have her hand moved but it was soon clutching tightly to the pillow wall and she was restfully sleeping again in no time.

Quiet murmurs escaped her lips as she sleep-talked in the language of her people, lost in the dreamworld where she was still with her family and her precious coat was close at hand.

Satisfied that he hadn't woken her up by getting out of bed, Idris turned away despite the odd murmurings coming from her. Going about his business, he got himself cleaned up and dressed for the day, one he hoped would pass smoothly and would begin with returning the unfortunate young woman to whatever home he was convinced his brother had coaxed her from. Settling himself at the small desk beside the bed to finally crack open the journal he'd wanted to read the night before so that he could catch up on work while he waited for her to awaken.

In his eyes, he didn't need to do anything for her. Simply ensuring a compassionate level of comfort and sending her on her way was all he intended to provide no matter what his elder brother might have to say about it. She had a home, he was sure, probably somewhere within his own lands, but he really did not want to provide anything beyond safety if she was in trouble and he wasn't even sure of that because she'd yet to speak an understandable word to him beyond her name.

When she did at last awaken, it was slowly and quietly. For several moments Vanora blinked lazily about, not recognizing her surroundings. It was not until she sat up and noticed the man quietly working with his back to her that she remembered the events of last night.

'It was not a dream after all then.' Her hand reached out longingly to the space beside her where her coat should have been. 'My beautiful coat, how will I ever get it back?' The Selkie felt heartbroken as her griefs of the previous day came back to weigh heavily upon her.

Vanora slunk out of the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not disturb the busy male. Yet as she sat on the end of the bed she quickly found herself becoming bored and hunger. Wondering what had him so entranced, the woman decided to take a look herself. It never occurred to her as she quietly made her way up behind him that she was being completely inappropriate and rude as she peeked over his shoulder, a strand of her dark hair sliding over his cheek.

The young man was unaware of her presence until she was upon him, the hair brushing against his cheek startling him. He gasped, flinched, and immediately moved a hand to seize whatever it was that was touching him. In his flailing, though, he ended up slapping his own cheek as he turned some in his chair. Even the small glimpse of her naked form had him blushing bright red and turning right back around to keep his head down.

"Um... Good morning, Vanora," he muttered uncomfortably, coughing slightly as he waved in the general direction of the clothes that had been set out for her. "No need to be uncomfortable, remember there are clothes for you." Idris had no idea her interest was in the journal before him. In his embarrassment he hurried to his feet and averted his eyes from her as he went to retrieve something for her to wear himself. "You must be cold," he sighed, having a hard time keeping up his manners.

Vanora squealed in shock and jumped back, eyes wide in shock. She had not expected such a quick reaction from him and was just as surprised as he was. Her eyes blinked slowly as he talked to her, not understanding much more than her name in the entire conversation. Shyly she waved to him before moving to take his place at the desk.

Once more she resumed looking at the journal. Vanora sat down on the edge of the chair, marveling for a moment that it was warm before letting her attention return to the book. She leaned in close, trying to decipher what she was seeing, her fingers slowly turning the pages as her brow furrowed in concentration.

Idris stared in horror at the display of fabric as she seemingly ignored the gesture he was trying to make about the clothing. Out of the corner of his eye he watched nervously as she flipped through his journal. "Um, don't read that, please," he pleaded, groaning at what embarrassing notes he must have made. He assumed she could read even if she didn't want to speak, or could not for some reason.

She was so enthralled by the newness and strangeness of the parchment which was smooth and rustled beneath her fingers along with the symbols that reminded her of sharp cliffs, that Vanora did not recognize that man's voice was meant for her ears to adhere to. She continued instead with her delighted page turning, pausing as she came to a blank page and tilted her head in confusion before turning to look at the room's other occupant and looking at him imploringly while pointing to the page as if to demand an explanation.

He stood tense as he watched her flip so easily through the pages. It became obvious to him quite quickly that she didn't understand his distress or his request of her. With a heavy sigh he took hold of the clothing meant for her and approached cautiously. Setting the small bundle beside the journal he peered over her shoulder to see that she was pointing at a blank page in the journal towards the end of that particular volume.

"I haven't written there yet," was his only explanation for her. "Now please can I have that back and would you please get dressed? I'm taking you back home...or wherever it was you came from.

"I suppose I'll ask my brother if you can't direct me there," he muttered to himself.

She frowned when she could not understand his explanation and traced shapes onto the blank page with her finger like the symbols she had seen previously. His moving the clothes towards her and his instructions however were completely lost on her. Without a direct indication short of physically showing her, Vanora had no way of knowing what the man could have wanted. She stopped her tracing though to look at him curiously as if he held all the answers she was looking for in the world.

The staring should have unnerved him, but she looked lost and curious more than anything. He didn't think she understood it was a little rude to be staring so much and to be so naked before him, but he was realizing that she either was not a normal woman or not from his lands at all. He was not ruling out that it was both, either.

Clearing his throat anxiously he glanced between her face and the journal before her, watching as she seemed to be mimicking writing with her fingers. "Vanora," Idris tried again. "Please hand me the journal and get dressed." He reached around her and took hold of the pale blue garment. Letting it unfurl, he gestured at his own shirt before holding the dress out to her again. "Just like I am. I'm sure you know what clothes are, come on now," he chuckled, reaching with his free hand to close the journal and take it back to be away from prying eyes.

Vanora tilted her head as she looked at the fabric, her brow creased in confusion. She remembered the evening before where Stephen had tried to have her put it on and it certainly reminded her of what the screeching human had worn. However, as she took it slowly from Idris and stepped away, she found she had no idea how to put it on properly.

The Selkie just continued to stare it while holding it up against herself as if the act of looking at it and holding it could dress her. She sighed heavily, feeling utterly defeated and inept. 'It's hopeless. I'll be lucky if I ever get my coat back at this rate.' Almost longingly she looked back towards the nest she had made of the bed and wondered if she would be allowed to crawl back into it and forget the nightmare her life had quickly become.

He watched her with flushed cheeks and an anxious look. She at least seemed to be thinking about it, but the lack of action was frustrating to him. With her sigh his own followed and his head hung a bit as if he'd failed to teach a lesson properly.

Tucking the journal away, he gave her an apologetic smile and offered his hand in a gesture of help. "I know that this is all very....improper, Vanora, but did you need....help with it? I wouldn't say a word to anyone. Or, if you prefer, I'm certain my mother would help you. But you simply cannot go out as you are, as well as your hair suits you as a, um, pretty cover. It just...doesn't cover enough," he explained, though it certainly pained him to do so with a grown woman.

Nervously licking her lips and knowing that it would not aid her much to speak anyway, Vanora held the garment up to the man. "Idris cuidich Vanora?" she asked, all but begging for his assistance, though she did not realize he had already offered her it.

Watching her curiously, he hoped she meant what he thought she meant with her gesture. There was only one word he did not recognize of her speech, but it did seem to be a plea. Hoping it was the correct answer to soothe her nerves, he nodded with a gentle, "Yes," and took the dress back from her.

After a few moments of fretting over the ties at the back to loosen it, he carefully lifted it up to put on her over her head. Idris could only pray she would not be startled by their proximity or the manner he was helping her dress. "You'll need to put your arms through the sleeves there," he prompted her gently. "I'll help you with the back."

She remained still as he first obstructed her vision momentarily with the cloth before moving behind her. She in turn struggled with where to put her arms but eventually figured it out once she mentally compared it to donning her flippers. Only once she had accomplished that did she start craning her neck back to try and see what Idris was doing behind that made the strange fabric tighter about her person. 'Do their coats not close automatically,' Vanora wondered to herself as she fidgeted like a young child instead of a grown woman.

At least she managed to get the arms herself. Idris had a bit of hope for her seeing she'd been able to. As he finished the last of the ties he carefully stepped away and gave her a once-over with it fully on finally. "It...suits you. I think. Is it comfortable? I can see what else we might have if it's too ....itchy?" he guessed, watching as she fidgeted.

When he came around to face her, she looked one last time over her shoulder at the various times before sighing and running her hands down the front of the dress, marveling at the texture against her hands that was so different from the silky smoothness of her own fur.

"Go raibh maith agat, Idris," Vanora thanked him with a shy smile. Her gaze wandered back to his book though as her curiosity begged her to once more look at the strange symbols and perhaps even try drawing a few of her own.

While he didn't understand exactly what she was saying, he hoped her smile meant it was something good. He wasn't sure how else to react to it other than to nod encouragingly and offer a kind smile in return. "Now let's get you home," he sighed. "Could you at least point me in a direction?" he wondered, turning for the door and opening it to the hall. "Outside?"

Vanora followed close on Idris' heels, peeking her head around him to look out the door. It was with a sigh of relief that she did not see the screaming woman from before and she visibly relaxed at that with a pleased sigh. Not understanding what was asked of her, she looked curiously up the man before, voicing a question she hoped he would understand. "Stephen?"

Idris watched her odd behavior curiously as he wondered if, perhaps, she was afraid of going outside. Hoping she would continue to follow, he stepped out into the hall and headed towards the front door, stuffing himself into boots slung into the corner before opening it. "Stephen...will not be joining us today. Though I'm sure he'll be flattered you asked after him. And I'm sure he wouldn't be opposed to meeting you again, though I must warn you he is not particularly known for...stability. Of relationships, that is, but what you do with your time is no concern of mine."

He flinched slightly for the brightness of the sun once the door was open. "Do you live....west then? South?" he guessed, hoping she might at least be able to give him a direction if not a name for her family. He certainly knew of no 'Vanoras' and wouldn't have guessed it to be a surname anyhow.

She continued to follow him barefoot right up until he opened the door to the outside and was motioning her through it. Vanora pursed her lips as she saw Stephen was not outside and decisively shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so. "Stephen!" she repeated more adamantly as if saying his name alone would not only summon the kind man but explain everything she wanted of him. Vanora refused to leave as long as she believed the other human male had possession of her coat.

He was growing a bit frustrated with her continued calls for his brother and the stubborn display she was putting on. "You are not Stephen's concern anymore. You are my concern and I would like to make sure you get home safely," Idris tried to explain.

"Please come outside," he prompted her again, stepping out into the grass.

Vanora scowled and thumped her foot lightly as her lips pursed so firmly together it looked as if she had shrunk her mouth in half. "Idris, cá bhfuil Stephen?" she persisted, demanding the whereabouts of the other brother. Short of dragging her from indoors, she would not be moved and as far as she was concerned the longer Idris kept her, the more likely she was to take off tearing through the halls calling for the kind man who had helped her the day before until she found him.

Idris frowned as he watched her little tantrum, the stubbornness of her crossed arms causing his brows to pull together as he studied her and tried to make sense of what she was asking. "Stephen isn't here," he tried to explain. "He isn't coming with us. Let's go, Vanora." He beckoned her with his hand, fully expecting her to follow this time. "I don't have all day, you know."

She was just about to protest further when an unmistakeable voice called out from further in the house demanding to know what all the commotion was about. Vanora momentarily froze in panic at the human woman's voice before immediately darting out the open door and behind Idris where she promptly attempted to press against his back and hide herself.

"Nothing! We were just leaving!" Idris called in answer, rolling his eyes as he watched Vanora finally joining him. Curiously, he wondered if she was afraid of their mother with the way she seemed to be hiding behind him. "Come, Vanora," he beckoned her, reaching to take her arm to lead her towards their stables. "Are you going to keep being stubborn? Or are you going to tell me where you're from?" he tried again.

Vanora was easily coaxed by Idris into following him with his hand on her arm. She was far too focused on casting furtive glances behind them back towards the house where the woman's voice had sounded from. The Selkie did not even notice that Idris was speaking to her as his words washed over her like lazy waves upon the shore.

He was not angry, but Idris watched her with wary eyes for her continued lack of communication with him. It seemed odd she had not tried to reach out with anything other than names and what apparently seemed to be her native tongue.

"Stay here," he commanded, removing his hold on her arm for a few moments to prepare a horse for their travels. He was perfectly fine and relaxed until his brother decided to turn up, his attention drawn from their mother's squawking.

"Leaving so soon, Vanora? Without a goodbye? I'm hurt," Stephen teased, Idris grunting his displeasure as he fiddled with saddle straps.

"Yes, we were just leaving," he answered for her, peeking over his horse's shoulder with a glower.

"Momma is hurt you haven't said hello. And I promised Vanora breakfast. Have you eaten?" Stephen was quite used to his brother drifting in and out of their lives with his work. The lack of formalities didn't personally bother him.

"Mother is always hurt... And no, we haven't. I thought it was very important I get this poor girl home," Idris explained, already assuming the reason for her stay at their home.

"Well she just can't leave without it! I won't have you breaking my promises to her," Stephen protested. "Are you hungry, Vanora? I'm sorry he's rushing you out so soon."

She made to follow, not understanding the command to remain, until she became distracted by the main strange instruments and pieces of equipment she found about the stable. It was Stephen's voice soon after that kept her from getting into any trouble though as she called back his name and rushed over to his side like an excited child.

The males spoke quickly to each other, Vanora's head following back and forth but unable to understand until once again she was being addressed. "Stephen féidir liom a bheith ar mo chóta do thoil?" she begged moving her arms about her person as if pulling her precious coat on then wrapping her arms about herself as if she as cold. Surely now he would give it back to her if he had it. What could he possibly want with her or it if all he had seemed intent on doing was clothe her and offer her a nest for the night?

The elder brother stared at her making her gestures with open-mouthed confusion, unsure what she was asking of him. "Hmm? Cold?" he guessed. "We'll be sure to get you a coat before you head out, but I insist you stay to eat at least."

"Fine," Idris finally conceded, tying off his horse once he was finished. "Breakfast, coat, and not a minute of chatter from Mother."

"That's for her to agree to," Stephen pointed out with a chuckle. Then, offering a hand to Vanora, beckoned her again as he moved to exit the stables and return to the house, "Come along, dear." Idris eyed his brother warily, unsure why he was treating the girl as some honored guest when it was already certain in his mind they'd had a falling out after an evening romp. There was no other explanation to him as to why she'd been in his bed in the first place.

Vanora eagerly accepted Stephen's arm, hurrying to his side like an excited puppy to its master's side. She smiled at him broadly, hoping to convey her gratefulness despite all the misunderstandings and lack of proper communication between them all. Stephen certainly seemed to be a better human than the other scarier version of himself that insisted on gruffness and bossiness to confuse her.

Idris scowled as he watched the way she rushed off to his brother's side. It shouldn't have bothered him, but he felt he'd been more than accommodating to her and yet she still seemed to prefer the company of a man who he was certain had broken her heart in some way or another.

He followed them back to the house and was grumpy as before while he settled at his seat at the table.

"I'm so sorry about him," his elder brother apologized, offering the girl a sympathetic smile as he tried to spark conversation with her once more. "I had no idea he was planning on coming home, but... I suppose he's here now. Are you well? How did you sleep?"

The young Selkie only smiled up at Stephen, unable to understand a word of what he was saying but nevertheless comforted by his gentle tone. "Stephen cuidich Vanora?" she voiced, hoping he would make assist her with finding her missing coat. As an extra effort she mimed pulling it close around her shoulders as if warding herself against the cold. Her eyes were wide and hopeful as she looked at first one brother then the other in deep concern. Already one day from the sea and Vanora felt homesick and downtrodden. She wanted her family, her nest, her waters, her coat. She wanted to go home and she knew she never would be able to as long as she was separated from her skin that kept her forever chained to the shore.

"She doesn't speak our language," Idris pointed out grumpily, a bit peeved his brother was trying to talk with her after all the trouble he'd been through that morning to try and coax it out of her.

Stephen looked back at him but only shrugged, completely missing her gestures. Idris raised a brow, recognizing it again but not understanding why she would be cold. "She needs a coat," the younger brother decided, not realizing the kind of coat the girl sought was much different than what he had in mind.

"Well I'll get her settled at the table and you can go fetch her one," Stephen snickered, unwilling to give up his spot at the little lady's side. It earned him a glare from Idris but he didn't quite care so long as their temporary guest was comfortable.

"I'll get you a coat, Vanora," he told her before veering off towards the living quarters once they were inside.

Vanora followed along with Stephen, hoping that his direction meant he was taking her to the one thing she wanted more than anything. When the other man parted company with them though, she instantly took notice and looked after him feeling completely confused. A moment later she addressed this confusion by tugging on Stephen's sleeve before pointing at his brother's disappearing back. "Idris?" she asked, hoping to understand where the man she had spent the night with was off to.

Stephen looked down for the gentle tugging on his sleeve with wide, questioning eyes. He blinked stupidly for a few moments, not understanding if she was entirely ignorant to their conversation or if she had another question about his brother. "He's getting you a coat," he reminded her gently, reaching with his free arm to mimic the gesture she'd made before that had caused him to go retrieve one. "For the cold."

He led her to the dining room without stopping, though, pulling out a chair for her near the already set out food. It took more than a few stern hand motions for him to shoo his mother from the room and leave them in peace.

Idris returned quickly enough, hurrying through the same door the pair had come through to present her with a coat already open and outstretched. "Here's a coat," Idris explained. "So you aren't cold anymore."

She took to her seat quickly, although Vanora cast many wary glances towards the men's mother after all the scares the woman had given her. She still did not trust the human woman and even feared her for all her screeching. It was a massive relief to have the woman gone and peace for her and Stephen both.

Idris' return brought both hope and confusion. When she saw him without her precious coat though her spirits faltered once more. Vanora tilted her head in question, looking first from the strange garment to the man and then to his brother as if seeking an answer that no one seemed able to provide.

Idris just stood there staring at her expectantly. She'd been cold, right? So why wasn't she taking it? He twitched slightly in irritation but Stephen put out a staying hand to his shoulder to keep his younger brother from just dropping the thing on her.

"Vanora," Idris grumbled, patience running thin but willing to try again. "Here. Is. A. Coat. Wear it, please."

Vanora recognized her name and instantly straightened, hoping that the single world alone would somehow unlock the barriers of communication for them and she would suddenly know where they were keeping her precious coat.

Sadly though this was far from the truth. Idris's stern tone caused her more confusion as she looked from the garment to the man again. Slowly, as if approaching an injured and wild creature, she shuffled her way over to him and reached a hand out to take the cloth from him, without understanding it's purpose or his intentions.

His eyes brightened hopefully as she took the garment. Idris stared at the Selkie expectantly, an encouraging smile reaching his lips.

"Go on," he found himself whispering, a gentle voice directly contradicting how tense he was and seemingly about to explode. His brother's hand fell away as he also turned to watch, though he was careful not to stare as his brother was.

She accepted the cloth but did not put it on as was Idris's intention. Instead she began to pull at it and thoroughly inspect it inside and out in hopes of finding her precious coat tucked away within it's strange confines. Coming up empty only made her slump further in defeat. With a deep, resigned sigh she offered the clothing back with a tearful shake of her head.

Idris watched her expectantly but his features quickly became twisted in confusion as she thoroughly inspected the offered coat. Was it a material she hated? He frowned as it was held back out to him and he shook his head, holding up his hand to refuse it and gesture at her.

"No, no, it's for you," he insisted gently, not understanding the sadness in her eyes now. "To wear," he explained slowly, bringing his hands up towards his shoulders to gesture like he was shrugging into a coat.

Vanora tilted her head in confusion. Was the strange human suggesting that if she moved her hands in the required ritualistic pattern that her coat would suddenly appear? It was certainly worth an attempt. Resolutely, the Selkie woman swung the fabric behind her back and across her shoulders. Every line of her body spoke of her tense waiting for something to happen. When nothing did though, Vanora made the gesture twice more with a pause in between with no avail. Defeated, she shook her head and again tried to hand the cloth back to the one who called himself Idris.

"Tá sé ar aon úsáid," she murmured sadly. The cloth was of no use to her.

For a moment he had hope as she put on the coat. But then she was taking it off and putting it back on over and over until at last he stood there staring dumbly as she held it out to him. "Um...a different one, then? We'll find you another to try," he sighed in frustration, scratching at his neck anxiously as he didn't understand a word of her strange language.

Seeing his brother's irritation bubbling Stephen swooped in to pluck the coat from his arm and go find another to exchange it with. He returned with a lighter one of slick instead of fluffy fur. "Try this," he insisted, smiling back in the face of his brother's glower until the younger man finally conceded and offered it to Vanora.

"How about this one?" Idris offered, trying to keep his mood in check.

She watched the exchange dejectedly. Though the new article offered to her was quite different. For a moment Vanora was hopeful as she burrowed into the coat. Sadly though it too was not right. The Selkie hung her head in despair as she rubbed her hands mournfully over the coat's silky texture. She shook her head again, a tear spilling down her cheek as she turned watery eyes towards the brothers. Vanora opened her mouth to speak but instead of words a choked sob escaped her before she clapped her hands over her mouth and tried to seal away her woes.

These human men had been kind to her. She knew that she should not bother them further. If only they could understand her, and she them. They did not have her precious coat or they were cruel and refused to return it to her. The latter she did not believe. Her Stephen had been so kind. Even Idris with his tight expressions and pained sighs had still managed not to harm her. They were not the culprits.

Idris could see it in her eyes before she shook her head. Something wasn't right, but it was frustratingly out of his grasp to understand what. They'd tried both a heavy and a light coat. It was clear she wanted a coat but he didn't understand where he was going wrong or why she seemed so deeply affected by it all.

The ray of sun coming through a window that lit up the tear streak across her cheek made him frown. What in the world was there to be so upset about? For a woman that seemed so put-off by clothes she was certainly picky about fashion.

"One moment," he muttered, excusing himself to return to his quarters. There he plucked a piece of paper from his journal and picked up a quill pen before returning to the table. He set them down in front of her, lightly dragging the tip of the quill across the top of the sheet to show her it could bear ink before letting it rest on the table.

"Draw it?" he asked slowly. "Draw what you want."

Vanora looked to Stephen in confusion. Were they going to bring her another piece of strange cloth? Was this how it was just going to go on and on forever? She did not have to wait long though as Idris returned and not, much to her great surprise, with cloth. Instead it was like the book she had seen him scribbling in earlier that morning.

She accepted the quill from him, examining it briefly out of curiosity before attempting to clutch it in the same manner he had. Vanora applied it to the page, surprised as ink came out much in the way it had for Idris. For a moment she made several such swipes, getting the feel of how to use the instrument while casting a nervous smile to the brothers.

While the Selkie did not understand what was expected of her, the idea that perhaps she could explain want she wanted through images dawned on her and so she slowly and meticulously attempted to draw them her story.

First, she drew the sea with herself and her family swimming about in their seal skins. Vanora smiled at the crude image. Next, was a small sketch of her shedding her skin on the rocks with the upper half of her body human and the lower half still seal. The third image was of her castoff coat left on its own followed by an image of her and a rudimentary drawing of a man.

"Stephen," she murmured pointing to him in her picture and then herself beside him. "Vanora." She dragged her finger across the images pointing to herself in each of them. At last she pointed to the abandoned skin and made one last time the motion of point it on and being cold.

The brothers leaned close around her to watch as she drew her pictures. Stephen looked to Idris nervously, not really understanding what he was seeing as it came to life. Idris ignored him, watching Vanora closely, paying special attention once she'd drawn herself and not seeing the importance of the animals and seal coat at first.

He'd heard of creatures- people that had different forms they could take. He'd never met one in person and he was wary of the idea of accusing her of anything just from her drawings now. It was clear he hadn't known the full story, that she might not be what he'd assumed her to be if Stephen had truly found her near the water. Oddly, the idea didn't really bother him as much as it probably should have.

Standing up straight Idris looked between her and his brother as she spoke and then back at her drawings again. "Vanora... This is your coat?" he asked, his mind slowly putting the pieces together, or so he thought. She'd simply misplaced it, this would all be fixed if they could take her back to where she'd been found and recover it. Right?

"And this... Home? Family? Friends?" he tried, pointing to her first picture and hoping any of the words might have some meaning to her.

She slumped in relief. At last it seemed they were understanding her. Vanora recognized the word for coat and nodded her head eagerly as she repeated it in Common, pointing at the picture firmly. The following words were not ones she understood but she too pointed to them, repeating them in her own tongue before motioning at herself by bringing both of her hands tightly to her chest as if holding something or someone close to her heart. One last time for added effort she pointed to the image of herself shedding her precious coat and stated her name.

"Coat. Vanora. Home?" she added at the end, unsure if she had gotten the correct meaning or pronunciation but desperate for the chance to at last communicate in a language they perhaps could both understand.

Idris ran his hand through his hair, feeling like this whole situation was something out of a story if she was understanding what he meant. Her native tongue meant nothing to him but the few words she did speak seemed to make sense to him. He looked to his brother and was relieved to see him nod in understanding as well. Perhaps pictures would be the way to communicate moving forward if returning her didn't work out so well.

"We can take you," Idris told her, setting a hand to her shoulder and offering what he hoped was an understanding smile. "Where did you find her?" he directed at his brother.

"Just...along the beach, I saw her in the sand." Stephen frowned, wishing he'd known earlier the exact spot would have any significance at all.

"Well let's get out there, maybe you- either of you might recognize it again." At least Idris hoped that would be the case. "Vanora? Can you come with us? Together? Um, outside?" he prompted, moving his hand down along her arm to grasp her elbow gently and begin directing her towards the door, his brother right behind them.

Not understanding the words spoken by either, Vanora could do nothing more than to look back and forth between the two men. Her pulse raced with anticipation. Perhaps now she would at last find her beloved coat and return home to her people, to where she belonged. Being among the humans was different and interesting but she was more than ready to leave this adventure behind. She missed the feeling of the current cradling her as she floated beneath the surface, the songs of her people offering her solace and comfort even in her dreams.

When Idris gripped her elbow, she thought nothing of it and followed eagerly to where the men led her. The closer they got to the beach and places she recognized, the faster she walked and harder she pulled to be there again. With sand under her feet again, Vanora wobbled ungainly but she did not let that deter her as she began to speak excitedly in a mix of her own tongue and the few words she was already learning of Common.

"Baile! Home!" she cried, pointing out towards the water with jerky motions. She looked back several times to see if the other two followed her though their paces did not deter her as she pushed forward. She stopped only once she reached the place she had last seen her beloved coat. The rock where it rested remained as cold and empty as it had the last time she had seen it.

Running her hand dejectedly over the cold and craggy surface she commented forlornly, "tá mo chóta fós ar iarraidh. Coat." Vanora shook her head as she gripped arms about herself again. "Coat, bhí sé anseo. Stephen, cabhrú? Tá Vanora ag iarraidh dul home."

With watery eyes she turned her eyes to Idris and shook her head at him. It was not there. Was this what he wanted to show her? That it was gone? That there was no hope? Vanora hung her head low, letting her hair form a curtain in front of her face to hide her sorrow and grief. Maybe the stories about humans were true. They really did just want to keep the Selkie for their own without regard for the lives and families they were forced to leave behind. How cruel!

Yet, a deeper part of Vanora could not believe that sweet Stephen could do such a thing to her. He had been nothing but kind to her. Even Idris who was rather strange and intimidating in perspective had not done anything to harm her. They certainly seemed like they wanted to help. At this point, she didn't know what to think. It was all so overwhelming. It felt like the waves of the ocean were too strong for her, that she would had grown up swimming them her whole life would finally be drowned by them. Would the sea not allow her to breathe? Would there be no reprieve from this horror? Time would only tell.

Idris didn't like feeling like he was dragging her along but thankfully Vanora seemed eager to keep moving the closer they got to the water. He let her run ahead, uncertain why she was so excited to be there. Perhaps she'd grown up near the water and felt at home along the beach?

As soon as she'd come to a stop just out of the way of the surf's reach her whole demeanor changed and he was confused as to why. She'd gone from excited to sad so quickly. She even seemed like she was mourning, but how could that be? His brow furrowed in thoughtful confusion as he stood by and watched her, occasionally casting perplexed looks towards his brother who could only shrug.

Stephen attempted to communicate, though, moving closer at his name being spoken and standing beside her as Idris looked on. "You left your coat around here?" he tried, looking to the rock she'd touched. It seemed familiar, but he hadn't been paying too much attention to their surroundings when he'd found her and had mostly been concerned for her safety and comfort. "Do you live nearby? Is your family close?"

Tears streaked heavily down her cheeks. She did not think there would be any left in her and yet there were so many. For a hysterical moment Vanora wondered if she would cause the sea to rise with how much saltwater that spilled down her face.

All she wanted was to go home. Was that too much to ask? Was she doomed to walk the scorching earth and forget the feel of gentle waves lulling her to sleep? Would she never get to play with her sisters again? Or chase schools of fish for her next meal?

Her knees went weak beneath her. Vanora had only a moment to catch her breath in a surprised squeak before she collapsed against the large rocks where she had first emerged from her beloved sea. Her fingers dug desperately for purchase along the jagged edges of wet stone as she felt it bight into the skin of her knees. Full-blown sobs racked her entire form as she stretched out and let loose the torrent of despair that had been breaking beneath the surface.

In a sea of unfamiliar faces and people, she was utterly and completely alone.

Stephen stumbled back in surprise, flinching and looking rather helpless as she sobbed. He'd never seen a woman so upset in all his life, and it made him afraid. She looked so fragile, he didn't want her to break.

Idris, however, understood that her cries were of grief though he did not know for whom or what. His features softened from confusion to a little understanding, his mouth curving into a sympathetic frown. She was hurting, that much was clear.

Without hesitation he stepped forward to kneel beside her on the painful rocks. He looked down with a wince, adjusting to sit instead so his knees wouldn't get so cut up. He looked at her sidelong, bringing an arm up to rest a warm hand at her shoulder and pat gently at her back. He kept his arms relaxed, leaving himself open on offer if she wished to turn and have someone to cry on.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, not entirely understanding why she was upset now but knowing he did want to at least try to stay her tears. "Losing someone is hard," he added quietly, doing his best to keep his voice low and gentle.