Work Text:
The Ranger walked along the shore at a careful, slow pace, studying the cliff-face with a practiced eye. Her footsteps, nearly soundless out of habit, were steady and certain. Her lean, rangy form crossed the rocky beach with graceful ease, short, fiery red hair ruffled by the salty breeze. It wasn’t until her keen green eyes spotted what she was looking for that she stopped, approached the cliff-face, and set down the set of mining tools she'd had the village blacksmith make a few days ago.
She inspected the rock, pressed one, long, pointed ear, close; listening as the miners had taught her two years ago. Eventually, she was satisfied, and began unpacking her tools. Nearby, in easy reach, she laid the tools of her profession; bow, quiver, and long knife. She worked methodically, as the miners had taught her, and she made good progress throughout the day, and soon exposed the obsidian she sought. It wasn’t until the end of the day, the setting sun casting the beach in red-orange light, that she stopped to rest and considered making camp.
Finally, she noticed the sensation of being watched. She turned to find her watcher seated on a large, rounded boulder. She was dressed in what seemed to be thick, durable pelts. Probably sealskin from the look of them. She was beautiful to the Ranger’s eyes, having a round, friendly face, brown-skinned with scattered freckles. Not nearly so numerous as those decorating the Ranger’s own pale complexion. The stranger’s build was robust, muscular and stocky. Her long straight hair was midnight black, with an almost blue sheen when the fading light struck it just so.
“Hello.”
The Ranger nodded then signed "Hello.” in return.
“Is that Sign?” the stranger asked, “Sorry, I don’t speak that. Not much, anyway.”
The Ranger nodded and fished a small wooden token out of one of her many pockets. It read, in the common language, “I can Teach you."
“Teach me? Does that mean, you are a Ranger?"
The Ranger nodded. That was one of her primary purposes; to travel, to learn, and to teach.
The stranger glanced upward, to the top of the cliff above. Following her gaze, the ranger spotted a human form standing at the edge, looking down at them. Suddenly it started running, and she sensed an almost panicked element to it's movements.
“Ah, he's back.” The stranger sighed. “I should go. If you’re still around when I come back, you can teach me, Ranger.”
Then she turned and ran straight into the surf. The Ranger was too shocked to react, and when she next spotted the stranger, she was changed. Gone were the sealskin clothes, replaced by a smooth-furred form, part human and part seal, perfectly blended and flawless. As beautiful as the Ranger felt she had been before.
A Selkie. Naturally.
Her wonder was interrupted by the clumsy, hurried approach of a young man, maybe eighteen winters old. Possibly older? It was getting harder to judge at her age. He stumbled up the stony beach and stopped before her.
“Where did she go?" he demanded, gesturing towards the rough surf.
The Ranger only shrugged. The obsessions of young men did not interest her. And his type was rarely interested in learning anything useful. The boy merely glowered at her silence.
“You stay away from her." He said, “She’s mine!” And he began making his way back the way he’d come.
So, he was that type. She would need to watch him.
As days passed, she began mining. Working as the miners had taught her soon produced the results she needed; hunks of obsidian for blades, arrowheads, and charms. From time to time, she would spot the young man atop the cliffs or wandering forlornly along the beach. He would glare at her, with what she soon realized was jealousy, when he spotted her. Whether she was exploring the local coast, or working, she ignored him. She made her camp in a cave above the storm tide line at a sandy cove a short way from her little obsidian mine. Dry, secluded, and a sheer climb to reach. Easy for her, dangerous for others. She decided against a rope ladder. Too dangerous. Exploration of the cave revealed a bat colony, so she would have good company.
Weeks turned into months.
The Ranger refined her skills. She’d learned the technique from the old hermit. He had told her all his secrets and now she held them in perfect recollection, but she had yet to master them all. Over time she built a small shack next to her little mine to work in. Others visited the beach and approached out of curiosity. She would offer them her token, they would leave without learning, for now. It would be the end of the warm season before she saw the Selkie again.
Steam rose from the cove into the sharp autumn air. One day the Ranger had been diving and found a warm spot in the rock face below the water. Exploration of the region revealed no warm vents or springs. So, assured she would disturb nobody by altering the flows of underground springs, and secure in the knowledge it would only benefit the area, she had taken her mining tools underwater and worked on the stone down there. Within a few days, hot volcanic water was flowing into the cold waters. It contained exotic salts, minerals, and warmed the entire cove. Encouraged by the Ranger, the ecosystem of the cove was radically altered. Now, edible sea plants grew in abundance, new species moved in, or flourished from those that had been growing around the warm rocks, as those that preferred colder water retreated. There were other coves along shoreline for them. Now she fished and harvested directly from the cove.
As she was emerging from the water, naked form steaming in the cold air, a fresh caught fish in hand, obsidian knife in the other, she found herself facing the Selkie.
“Hello.” She said, smiling. “I’m back.”
The Ranger nodded and signed, “Hello.”
“I remember that!” The Selkie said excitedly, “You said “Hello.”, right?”
The Ranger nodded.
“Do you have time to teach me now?”
The Ranger motioned for the Selkie to wait. Then she left the water, hung the fish on a short rope, and made a small incision near the end of it’s tail with her knife. Soon, thick red oil was slowly draining into an earthen bowl. The Selkie watched her curiously, but patiently.
The Ranger was about to dress when the Selkie spoke up. “Wait! Can we bathe while you teach? I think I’ll learn better in the water.”
The Ranger shrugged, then stopped still when the Selkie began stripping offer her sealskin clothes. No, her pelt that only appeared to be her clothing in this form. She was a sight to behold, beautiful and powerful, totally at home in the water, even in her human form. She swiftly swam out to the middle of the cove and then back to shore. She cut cleanly through the water in ways the Ranger thought she might master in about a thousand years of practice. The effect was spellbinding. She almost didn’t notice her nakedness except that the cold began to bite and she was forced to reenter the warm water.
The Selkie grinned as the Ranger joined her in the water. “I watched you swim. You’re not bad for a land-dweller.”
The Ranger tried not to blush. She hoped the warm water might hide it. Shouldn’t she be too old for such words to have this effect?
“You cannot speak, so how will you teach me?”
The Ranger felt herself back on familiar ground. She reached out and touched the Selkie’s throat before making a motion of something leaving her mouth.
“I’ll speak?”
The Ranger nodded, then made signs slowly for “I will speak.”
“Oh! And you will sign!”
The Ranger smiled, repeated the Selkie’s words in Sign, then took the Selkie’s hands and guided her through the same signs.
“And I’ll copy what you Sign? I get it!” She grinned excitedly.
And so it went, for an hour until the Ranger had to leave the water lest she damage her skin. The fish was drained so they took a break while the Ranger gutted it and poured its oil into a skin flask.
She signed in simple words the Selkie had already learned, and she seemed to learn very quickly. “Teach more, there?” She pointed to her cave. “You, climb?”
The Selkie nodded, “I climb lots of cliffs.”
She proved to be a deft climber and they continued the lessons while the Ranger set the bowl in a small fire. The scent of the oil was pleasant. The fish she had harvested it from was exceedingly fat and healthy from feeding in the newly fertile cove, so its oil was of the highest quality. It was a particular species she’d hoped to attract by opening up the hot spring vent, and she couldn’t be more pleased with the result. They shared the fish itself raw. The flesh was sweet and salty. It was made clear to the Ranger that even in this human form, the Selkie was still an ocean predator. Her sharp teeth and powerful jaws made short work of the boney fish, while the Ranger took longer to eat, cutting the flesh away from the bones. She saved the bones, of course, and set them with the guts she had also carefully kept. It would all be useful to her later. The roe made for a salty after dinner treat. Then she continued her instruction.
Eventually, after several hours, they stopped, tired from teaching and learning. The Selkie had made almost unbelievable progress. The Ranger had a great deal of teaching experience, especially in teaching sign, but her latest student was exceptional. Far more so than any she had taught before except other Rangers, and she was at least equal to any of them. Meanwhile the oil had been cooked and set to cool nearby.
The Selkie yawned hugely, revealing her sharp teeth. “Oh gods, I did not think learning could be so exhausting.”
“Special teaching.” The Ranger signed, “Ranger secrets.”
“What do you do with the oil?” The Selkie asked.
The Ranger dipped her finger into the still-warm oil and rubbed it into her skin. “Help warm,” She signed to her body, “strong,” she gripped lean, muscular arm, “tough.” She pinched her skin. “More.” The Selkie did not yet have the Sign vocabulary to understand the details yet. “I use it now. Or, ruined.” She explained.
“Oh, do you need help?”
The Ranger was, in fact, flexible enough to apply the oil to her entire body. But...such maneuvers were difficult and time consuming and what would it hurt to have a little help?
“Yes.” Was her signed response.
The Selkie’s hands were strong, and soft. Of course, she didn’t labor, what need did an ocean predator have of manual labor? And they were warm. Warmer than the oil itself. The Selkie stripped off her own pelt as the Ranger undressed. Because of… politeness? She seemed unwilling to be clothed while the Ranger was naked. The Ranger did not ask, she focused on not staring until she had her back to her guest. After that, she was able to apply the oil normally, with the slight exception of the pleasant feeling of the Selkie’s hands gently working the oil into her back.
There was plenty of oil left over when they were done.
“It’d be a shame to waste it.” The Selkie observed, “Can I try it?”
The Ranger couldn’t think of any reason why not. And the Selkie almost certainly consumed these fish whole in the wild, so she would find benefit as well. Thus, she found herself firmly working the oil into the broad shoulders and back of the nude Selkie. It didn’t take long. The Ranger would not have minded if it had taken longer. Gods, she felt as young as a novice, it had been so long since she’d had reason to feel so...attracted.
“Tired. Rest?” The Selkie asked in Sign once they finished.
The Ranger showed her to where she slept, and as she was bedding down, found the Selkie laying down with her, covering them both with her thick sealskin cloak. “Comfortable.” She murmured sleepily as she snuggled up to the Ranger. Apparently, the creature did not have the sense of, or respect for, personal space that most Humans did. The Ranger thought, with the Selkie’s big comfortable form up against her, that she would never get to sleep. They hadn’t even bothered to dress with the warming oil applied. But the needs of the body overwhelmed the Ranger’s nerves, and her discipline helped. When she decided to sleep, she slept, always.
What she did not expect was to wake up to find the Selkie gone. And to find that she’d slept well past sunrise. She should have been awakened by her guest leaving. She’d been more distracted than she’d given herself credit for. She’d enjoyed it. She wasn’t saddened by the Selkie leaving without a word. She understood the nature of such creatures was to move with the whims of their instincts, and human niceties meant little or nothing to them. She did hope her new friend returned sooner, rather than later.
Months turned into years.
As the Ranger mastered her new craft, the town nearby became more aware of her presence, and what she was. More approached her, and soon they asked for knowledge. She taught Sign to a deaf man and his husband. A hunter came and she taught her how to make a recurved bow. A young girl came and she showed which herbs would end a pregnancy, and which would prevent one. A spinster sought pleasure away from men, so the Ranger taught her the pleasures of women. She taught a new mother about why her toddler acted so strangely, and how to finally understand their needs. A woman with a limp and a bruised eye wandered along the cliffs, so the Ranger went to her and taught her about herbs; especially those that could stop a man's heart. Then she taught the woman which spices could be added to make those herbs safe, while greatly enhancing the flavors of a meal.
A few days after, the Ranger spotted a funeral procession, and her keen eyes noted the smile of the limping widow.
And from time to time, her Selkie friend visited. She taught the Selkie more Sign, and she mastered it swiftly. The Selkie in turn taught the Ranger to swim. She had always been a good swimmer, but now her skill was elevated far beyond what she had thought possible. At the same time, she grew stronger, and gained muscle. The Selkie, by turn again, was eager to learn more, and the Ranger found herself eager for the Selkie ‘s company. A deep ache developed in the Ranger's heart when her friend was away. She found she loved the sense of longing nearly as much as she loved her friend's company. It had been many years since she'd felt such connection with another being. She savored it. So, the two of them shared stories, knowledge, taught each other new skills, hunted fish, shared meals, and applied the oil to each other.
The young man continued prowling the beach. But he could not be there every day. Yet, one day, that young man managed to meet the Selkie as she emerged from the surf. She had been away, exploring the land to better map it. It was impossible to hear him from atop the cliffs, but his pleading was obvious in his body language. Equally clear was the Selkie's discomfort. She said something and then returned to the surf, offering only a parting wave as she vanished. The young man, the Ranger supposed he was not so young anymore, seemed to spend some minutes ranting, and weeping, before he too began making his way home.
She didn’t ask the Selkie about the incident the next time she visited. It was clear man was obsessed with the Selkie, and she had rejected his marriage proposal. It was the natural thing for her to do, a mortal man may as well marry the tidewaters. The Ranger was a patient woman, the passage of months did not wear on her mind, and the longing she loved to feel only made the Selkie’s visits sweeter. She put the man out of her mind. She had people to teach, skills to further master, and the Selkie’s next visit to wait for. Later, the Ranger would decide she should have been more wary of the man’s obsession. She had long ago forgotten such impatience in favor of sweeter emotions.
She realized this when one day, she spotted him skulking beneath the cliffs near the warm cove, carrying a thick bundle of what seemed to be pelts. As she looked, her heart seemed to freeze. She recognized the pattern of the pelt. He glared at her and held the pelt between her and him like a shield. She realized she was gripping the hilt of her obsidian dagger.
“You’ll be staying back from me, Ranger.” He said, glaring, “I know the oaths of your kind. You’re not the only ones who carry old knowledge. So, I know you cannot harm me. You can’t even carry proper weapons, can you?” He grew bolder as he spoke, stepping out of the shadow of the cliffs. “So you just stay here on the beach and teach tricks to the simple folks. I’m going to take my new wife home.”
At that she noticed some motion from the corner of her eye and turned to see the Selkie emerge from behind the rocks. She was dressed in human clothes. They did not quite fit right and she wore them awkwardly. The Selkie started to speak but her “husband” interrupted.
“You’ll not be talking to her, wife!” he barked, “And stay away from her besides. I won’t have her kind tricking us out of matrimony.” He turned back to the Ranger. “I told you she was mine.” And he led the Selkie away down the beach.
Cold fury enveloped the Ranger. Oaths or no, she would not let this come to pass. What she wanted was to unleash every skill in killing she had upon the man. And she knew so many. The War had taught her things she wished to forget, but could not. There was a way, a path, and she could find it. There were rules that could not be broken in her way, lest she curse the Selkie in horrendous ways, but she would find the path.
She was a Ranger. It was her purpose.
Weeks turned into months.
She spent less time on the beach, and began making more forays into the town. She was already known by a number of people here and they greeted her, with waves or with Sign. She traded; medicines made from things that grew in the warm cove; pelts; carved bone; shaped obsidian. In town she could teach more. She showed a woman how to stitch leather. She taught a fisher how to make a better net. She glimpsed the Selkie and their eyes met from across the square for a moment. Now she felt a sharp stab of sorrow every time. A teenager wanted to join a sailing crew, so the Ranger taught them to navigate by the stars. She found the spinster she had once taught had married the widow who no longer limped. The hunter had killed a marauding lone wolf with the bow she’d made under the Ranger’s instruction. The young girl was a woman grown and childless, as well as a new widow herself. She seemed to know the widow who no longer limped quite well. The deaf man and his husband invited her to stay with them if she happened to be in town late. She dined with them and was glad of the company.
She waited with the patience of stone.
She soon saw she had sorely underestimated the young man. He was wary and clever, his lies about where his new wife had come from were plausible. He was skilled, he had hidden the pelt well enough she could not find it, not quickly. It was easy to sneak into his home one day, and review the information he had accumulated. It seemed he was intelligent enough to parse most facts from legends. He had even researched the Rangers, especially their oaths. But here, his youth and impatience showed. He could not compel the Selkie in all things. He also did not understand the Oaths, relying on translations instead of learning Sign. It would take time, but she could afford greater patience than the young man. And her friend would not need to suffer his filthy touch in the meantime.
Months turned into years.
She watched everything and made note. It hurt to see the Selkie walking with her captor, pretending to be a young hide from far away. Still, she watched unwilling to look away in the hope her eyes might meet those of her friend. Sometimes they did and she ached fiercely. She could see the longing in her friend’s eyes. Her heart belonged to the sea. She would pine for her home until it killed her. For her part, the Ranger slept poorly, food had no flavor, even instructing the curious held little joy for her. She felt her heart must stop of its own accord at times. Even the darkest days of The War had not seemed so empty of life. She wanted to murder the young man, oaths, curses, and gods be damned. But she endured. For a thousand reasons, many long passed out of the memory of the world she endured. But especially she endured for the sake of her friend.
She made sure the young man saw her too. He glared, sometimes he shouted abuse towards her. He received only her silence and the chastisement if his fellow townsfolk for his trouble. She followed him. Her presence harassed him, made him paranoid. She used her influence among the villagers to hound him. A rumor started that he had been pining after a “seal-woman” were her doing, though nobody would recall it was her who‘d told them. The hunter, along with her two apprentices now, ranged further inland. She claimed to have spotted a strange beast, with an unusual pelt that left peculiar tracks. It never occurred to her it’d been a dream she’d had after eating fish from the warm cove with the Ranger. She hadn’t even known it was possible to place dreams into food. The Ranger and her kind still kept some secrets for themselves.
Finally, the young man could take no more. He set out into the woods, driven by the paranoia of a thief. For a time, the Ranger allowed him to notice her trailing him. She allowed him to make a great display of his woodcraft. Had he not been the vile being he had chosen to be, be might have been worth teaching. He had talent, and the intelligence to master the deeper secrets the Ranger reserved for the worthy. Instead, she finally allowed him to think he’d lost her. Even the hunter she had been training would have been unable to track him. But she was younger than him, though more patient by far. As he passed within inches of her, the Ranger decided she would soon induct the hunter into the deeper secrets. Because with all their deep learning and unknown lifespans, Rangers could die and new notices must be prepared to take their place.
Satisfied he had outwitted his adversary, the arrogant young man hurried to his destination. Unseen, so steeped in Shadow as to be nearly incorporeal, the Ranger watched as he retrieved the Selkie’s pelt. It would be easy to take it from him now. She did not even need violence to do it. Put theft of the pelt would only lock her into a curse, the obsession the young man still wrestled with. So she watched, followed, and made note of its new location. She followed the young man home to ensure he went to his uneasy rest, alone. Then she went to work. She marked the swiftest path, removed obstacles, and marked the location of the pelt with red cloth. With all prepared, she gave a note to the healer, who had once been the widow with a limp and now was wedded to the spinster who learned the pleasure of women, to pass to the Selkie.
She waited.
When the Selkie finally arrived she seized the Ranger up in an embrace that warmed the Ranger down to the depths of her aged soul. She loved it. She could endure anything to see the Selkie free and happy like this. She would love seeing her when she returned to the cove from the sea. She would love waiting for her between visits. She . . .
. . . oh.
Oh no.
“I knew you would think of something.” The Selkie signed as she released the Ranger. “I could always feel you nearby. It made me strong enough to be patient. You made sure he could never have my heart.”
“Thank you but you must leave now.” The Ranger signed hurriedly, “I am a danger to you.”
The Selkie laughed as she signed, “You could never be a danger to me!”
“But I am!” the Ranger signed, almost flailing in panic, “I will become like him!” Her signs may as well have been shouts. “I have...” she paused to wring her hands, “I am in love. Eventually I will-“
She was stopped, silenced, by the Selkie’s hands on hers. “Idiot.” She said gently, “You can’t steal what already belongs to you.”
The Ranger stared up at her in confusion.
“The reason he couldn’t command me fully wasn’t only because he’d done something incorrectly when he tried to enslave me, even though he definitely did make a mistake. It was because my pelt, and my heart, already belonged to you!”
The Ranger was struck dumb. Again. For the second time in a myriad. But now for an infinitely better reason.
“Stupid Ranger!” the Selkie laughed, “I’m in love with you. I have been since I shared my pelt with you on our first night together.” And with that she kissed her.
For many years, the Ranger would ask her wife to remind her of this moment. She was very old after all, and age could bring in forgetfulness. It never lost its magic.
Then, a cracked and desperate voice, “No!”
In future years, the two of them opted to leave out the interruption, and moved on to the much more pleasant and physically demanding activities that came later. In the present, they turned to face the young man.
“She’s mine by rite and right!” he shouted, brandishing a gleaming steel sword. A fine blade, the excellent work of the town smith. Even better now that the Ranger had taught him the secrets of alloys and elements.
The Ranger drew her bow and notched an obsidian tipped arrow, one she had specially prepared.
“Don’t threaten me, Ranger.” The young man sneered. “I know your Oaths! You can’t use weapons against others!”
“Fool.” Said the Selkie. “The text obviously claims Rangers are forbidden from using iron weapons during war.”
“What?”
“Which you would know if you’d bothered learning Sign.” The Selkie continued, “Not that I was going to try teaching it to you. Mother taught me to let mortals drown themselves with their foolishness. They always seen to work so hard at it, after all.”
The Ranger drew, aimed, and loosed her arrow in less than a second. Her aim was, of course, true. The cursed arrow struck its target perfectly, just above the heart, nicking but not opening the artery there. The young man staggered backwards, dropping his blade with a ringing clatter. Shaking, seemingly entranced, he pulled at the arrow shaft, slowly drawing it out. The shaft came free easily, without the arrowhead.
“What have you done?” the cursed man cried in alarm, blood merely trickling from his chest.
“Seems to be a curse.” The Selkie said simply. “Perhaps if you beg, my wife here will explain it.”
The Ranger waved her hand dismissively. She knew he would understand eventually.
The Selkie shrugged. “Never mind. But you have an obsidian shard nestled next to your heart. That can’t be healthy.”
The cursed man looked at them, fear in his eyes, then he turned and staggered away down the beach.
That night, the Ranger and her wife the Selkie feasted on fresh fish, as they had many times before. They talked for hours, as if the intervening years had merely been a long journey away for one of them. Naked and comfortable in the warmth of the cave and their mutual love, they began to apply the oil. Tonight, however, the usually chaste activity took a sharp turn for the carnal. Years of longing, pining, and untouched lust surged forth. It took a very long time to complete this catharsis.
The days turned into weeks. Weeks became months. Months turned into years.
The Ranger still explored, taught, and worked to perfect her skills. Sometimes the Selkie was away, for the sea was also her home. But she was gone less often, and not as long. The Hunter was apprenticed to the Ranger, and a new Ranger began pursuing mastery over all Crafts. The town flourished. People lived and died. Most lived well. Others did not. The cursed man eventually discovered the details of his curse. But fear pierced his heart whenever he thought about attempting to break it. A single sea voyage to overcome his longing for what would never his. Overcome, he threw himself from the cliffs one night. The Ranger collected his body. The bones and calcified heart of a cursed mortal were powerful reagents. It was better not to take the chance some mortal might find them instead.
The years became an age. Ages turned to a myriad. One day a Ranger came to a cliffside beach with iron tools. There they would mine obsidian and master the ways of Working it as their mentor had instructed them to. And, they would find a convenient cave to stay in, just above a warm cove they would soon learn was favored by a selkie that roamed the local waters . . .