The Maiden & The Selkie King

The waves crashed lazily against the shoreline as Bridgett stared into the diamond water. Her bright hair whipped around like a blazing fire in the wind. The allure of the water and the impatience for her father’s return kept her sitting on the water’s edge for hours at a time. She counted the bobbing heads of dolphins and seals, noting the differences in their color and shapes. She thought about the stories her father told her about mermaids and sea monsters. Such grand adventures he had! She wanted to be a part of them and share in the adventures of such creatures. She’d often let her mind wander far off into the sea, where creatures would bring her in on dangerous adventures, or she would find her one true love. In her mind, she willed these stories to be true. She dreamed desperately of a time when she could join her father on sea voyages.

“Come, child, supper is almost ready,” her grandmother called from the start of the hill. Bridgett jumped, startled back into reality by the old woman’s voice, and then turned to her with a pout.

“The sun’s not set yet…” she whined, already knowing she’d lose this argument. Her grandmother placed her hands on her hips in a definitive fashion. Bridgett's pout deepened, but she offered no more objections as she dusted off the edges of her skirt and stomped towards the house.

“I swear, child, you become more and more like your father every day,” her grandmother gripped. She patted Bridgett’s bottom, ushering her to move fast into the house. Bridgett continued to mope but secretly loved her grandmother’s affection.

The small wooden cottage smelled of fresh bread and mutton chops. Bridgett automatically salivated. She hadn’t realized how hungry she had become, but she refused to let her grandmother know she was right. She moved quickly to wash her hands and dried them on the hem of her skirt.

“Have a seat, child,” her grandmother ordered, keeping her eyes on the food.

“We aren’t waiting for Papa to return?” The pout returned to Bridgett’s young face. Her grandmother shot her a look. The child’s face drooped.

“If he’s not returned by now, he won’t return till morning. There’s no use going to sleep on an empty stomach for fear of being impolite.” Her grandmother shoveled potatoes, mutton, and cabbage onto Bridgett’s plate and pushed it closer to her.

Before touching anything else, Bridget reached over and grabbed for the bread in the middle of the table. She knew it was rude, considering her grandmother hadn’t completed her plate, but her grandmother had also just announced they were forgoing courtesy. She chuckled as the older woman looked at her disapprovingly.

“I’ll let that go for now, but you'd best improve your manners before your father returns in the morning.”

Bridgett smiled with a mouth full of bread and said nothing. She knew her father would only laugh at her behavior. He was never one for social proprieties or rules.

The two women ate in silence, each contemplating the upcoming arrival.

As dinner finished and Bridgett was ushered off to bed, she felt restless and anxious. She didn’t want to sleep or wait one more night. She dreamed of the presents her father might bring her from his fishing ventures and the stories he would tell of wild creatures in the ocean depths.

When she was certain her grandmother was asleep, Bridgett snuck out of bed, grabbed a long coat, and stuffed her feet into her boots before walking the quarter mile to the cliff edge. A warmer summer breeze was still swirling around her as she sat dangling her feet over the cliff edge.

The water looked eerie now, much less inviting. The velvety black waves now seemed to crash with the sound of warning. But she sat still, looking at the edge of the ocean for her father’s boat, wondering how he managed out there in the dark, knowing the ocean could easily swallow him up.

“What are you doing out here?”

Bridgett scrambled to her feet and looked around her. She’d prepared for an attack and held her arms up in defense, but instead of a vicious attacker, she found herself looking at a strange boy, not much older than her. His skin seemed almost translucent, and it glowed with the same shimmer as the water. His ears came to a point and had scale patterns along them down to his chin. His eyes struck her the most. The vibrant green eyes glowed like lights in the dark. The color in them looked almost alive, swirling like the watery abyss.

“Most humans should be asleep in the dark, should they not?” the peculiar boy asked. Bridgett looked at him, befuddled, before her original feelings of self-defense kicked back in.

“What are you doing out here? What are you saying ‘most humans’? Would you not say you are human?” she retorted, feeling a small pang of fear. The boy smiled with sharp teeth and took one careful step towards her as he shook his head.

“What is your name?” he asked, ignoring her questions. Bridgett hesitated for a moment, wondering if telling the truth could hurt her. Ultimately, she decided it would not.

“My name is Bridgett. My father is a fisherman. I’m waiting for him to return. I live just over the ridge,” she said, pointing towards the small cottage. Smoke was still billowing out of the chimney. For a brief moment, Bridgett wondered if she could outrun this boy long enough to wake her grandmother. The boy smirked, and she let curiosity overcome her fears. “What is your name?”

She noted more lines of scales down his side and arms as he turned to follow her gaze. He was barefoot and wearing a strange rag to cover himself instead of real clothes. His feet were also pointed out, almost like fins….

“My name is Penndrull, but you can call me Penn. I am the son of the Selkie King.”