[story] just breathe
Jan. 31st, 2007 07:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ib_archiveauthor: roselia grimm
email: a.grimm.rose [at] gmail.com
We went out to the river because Maria had heard there were selkies there. I wasn't so sure but was willing to humor her. Her mood was strange that summer, as if she heard some sort of call that was inaudible to everyone else: she was restless and brittle. We walked down to the shore, seeing nothing but the water and smooth stones.
"They aren't here," I said.
"They have to be," said Maria. "I want them to be."
I thought of pointing out to her that wanting something did not mean that it would happen, but Maria would have only gotten angry at me. As she picked her way down to the water's edge her hair blew all around her, thin and black. She was afraid to take her sandals off but they made it difficult to keep her balance. She was wearing a white linen dress; I remember thinking she was wearing it only because it was expected of her. The hem trailed in the water and clung to her legs.
I sat down on a boulder and untied my shoes. "Perhaps they've moved on," I said, and looked up.
Maria was standing, frozen, staring at a stranger rising from the lake. Water sheeted down his naked shoulders. His hair was very dark, and over his waist was slung a pelt a few shades lighter than his hair. He looked at her for a second, his eyes thoughtful, and then passed over me. It was like an electric shock. His eyes only met mine for a second but he seemed to read me completely.
"What do you want?" His voice was very soft and hoarse, as if he was not used to speaking.
Maria stood very straight. It was clear that every one of her nerves was on fire, from the proud tilt of her head and the set of her shoulders. "I want to see you."
He looked at me.
I tried to speak but I was too surprised. Besides, I had not the way with words that Maria did; if I could speak it would only be awkward. I looked away.
"You have seen me," he said to Maria. With that he turned and dove back into the water, transforming as he went. His broad human shoulders faded into sleek brown fur, and I could only catch a bare glimpse of his seal-form swimming away.
"I wanted him to stay," said Maria finally, staring at the pool where he had disappeared. "Isn't it funny how things you want to stay never do?"
"I should think it was a part of life," I replied. "Come on, it's getting cold."
I woke up at midnight because the full moon was shining through my window. I got up and began to dress, pulling on a sweater and, after a moment's thought, finding a towel and draping it over my arm. I walked softly out of the house and toward the river.
The moonlight on the river glowed as I picked my way down the bank. I dropped the towel down where it would stay dry and waded into the river. Maria was floating on her back. Her hair was spread out in a cloud around her, and the selkie looked up as I approached. "This is what she wanted," he said, in his unhuman voice.
Maria was smiling a little in her sleep, as if she was dreaming, but I only glanced at her. "You shouldn't," I said. "It's not fair. She didn't know what she was wishing for."
"She shouldn't have wished it, then."
"I won't let you have her," I said. The selkie looked at me and I realized his eyes were round and flat; animal in his human face. We stared at each other, waiting for the other to look away first.
"What will you give me?" he said finally. There was something still about him. He was a predator waiting quietly for his prey to come to him. Still, I was not afraid.
I reached out and put my hands on his cold cheeks. I pulled his face close to mine and kissed him. He was still for a second and then his hand curled around the back of my head. Pulling away, I touched Maria gently. Her eyes opened. For a second she looked only sleepy and confused, and then she looked frightened and I had to catch her before she drowned herself. "What am I doing here?" she said. She looked around without seeing the selkie beside her. "What?" She shivered.
"Maria, dear," I said softly, "there's a towel on the bank. You were sleepwalking, I think. Go home and get warm."
She was still so confused that she started to obey before she realized that I wasn't going to the shore, too. "Aren't you coming?" she said.
"Presently," I said, still staring at the selkie. He seemed to have lost all interest in Maria. It was as if now that she could not see him, he was no longer even aware of her presence.
She hesitated for a second but she seemed to realize that I wasn't going to move until she obeyed me. She splashed her way out of the river and wrapped herself in the towel. The night closed over her. I watched her go until I could no longer make out even the white fabric of her dress, and then looked at the selkie again. It was strange, but I felt quite composed. A quiet sense of inevitability seemed to surround me. I was content to wait, no matter what happened. Perhaps it was the work of the selkie. Perhaps it was something else.
The selkie put his hands around my waist and we fell underwater. "It's all right," he said, "Just breathe."
the end
email: a.grimm.rose [at] gmail.com
We went out to the river because Maria had heard there were selkies there. I wasn't so sure but was willing to humor her. Her mood was strange that summer, as if she heard some sort of call that was inaudible to everyone else: she was restless and brittle. We walked down to the shore, seeing nothing but the water and smooth stones.
"They aren't here," I said.
"They have to be," said Maria. "I want them to be."
I thought of pointing out to her that wanting something did not mean that it would happen, but Maria would have only gotten angry at me. As she picked her way down to the water's edge her hair blew all around her, thin and black. She was afraid to take her sandals off but they made it difficult to keep her balance. She was wearing a white linen dress; I remember thinking she was wearing it only because it was expected of her. The hem trailed in the water and clung to her legs.
I sat down on a boulder and untied my shoes. "Perhaps they've moved on," I said, and looked up.
Maria was standing, frozen, staring at a stranger rising from the lake. Water sheeted down his naked shoulders. His hair was very dark, and over his waist was slung a pelt a few shades lighter than his hair. He looked at her for a second, his eyes thoughtful, and then passed over me. It was like an electric shock. His eyes only met mine for a second but he seemed to read me completely.
"What do you want?" His voice was very soft and hoarse, as if he was not used to speaking.
Maria stood very straight. It was clear that every one of her nerves was on fire, from the proud tilt of her head and the set of her shoulders. "I want to see you."
He looked at me.
I tried to speak but I was too surprised. Besides, I had not the way with words that Maria did; if I could speak it would only be awkward. I looked away.
"You have seen me," he said to Maria. With that he turned and dove back into the water, transforming as he went. His broad human shoulders faded into sleek brown fur, and I could only catch a bare glimpse of his seal-form swimming away.
"I wanted him to stay," said Maria finally, staring at the pool where he had disappeared. "Isn't it funny how things you want to stay never do?"
"I should think it was a part of life," I replied. "Come on, it's getting cold."
I woke up at midnight because the full moon was shining through my window. I got up and began to dress, pulling on a sweater and, after a moment's thought, finding a towel and draping it over my arm. I walked softly out of the house and toward the river.
The moonlight on the river glowed as I picked my way down the bank. I dropped the towel down where it would stay dry and waded into the river. Maria was floating on her back. Her hair was spread out in a cloud around her, and the selkie looked up as I approached. "This is what she wanted," he said, in his unhuman voice.
Maria was smiling a little in her sleep, as if she was dreaming, but I only glanced at her. "You shouldn't," I said. "It's not fair. She didn't know what she was wishing for."
"She shouldn't have wished it, then."
"I won't let you have her," I said. The selkie looked at me and I realized his eyes were round and flat; animal in his human face. We stared at each other, waiting for the other to look away first.
"What will you give me?" he said finally. There was something still about him. He was a predator waiting quietly for his prey to come to him. Still, I was not afraid.
I reached out and put my hands on his cold cheeks. I pulled his face close to mine and kissed him. He was still for a second and then his hand curled around the back of my head. Pulling away, I touched Maria gently. Her eyes opened. For a second she looked only sleepy and confused, and then she looked frightened and I had to catch her before she drowned herself. "What am I doing here?" she said. She looked around without seeing the selkie beside her. "What?" She shivered.
"Maria, dear," I said softly, "there's a towel on the bank. You were sleepwalking, I think. Go home and get warm."
She was still so confused that she started to obey before she realized that I wasn't going to the shore, too. "Aren't you coming?" she said.
"Presently," I said, still staring at the selkie. He seemed to have lost all interest in Maria. It was as if now that she could not see him, he was no longer even aware of her presence.
She hesitated for a second but she seemed to realize that I wasn't going to move until she obeyed me. She splashed her way out of the river and wrapped herself in the towel. The night closed over her. I watched her go until I could no longer make out even the white fabric of her dress, and then looked at the selkie again. It was strange, but I felt quite composed. A quiet sense of inevitability seemed to surround me. I was content to wait, no matter what happened. Perhaps it was the work of the selkie. Perhaps it was something else.
The selkie put his hands around my waist and we fell underwater. "It's all right," he said, "Just breathe."
the end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-02-01 07:46 pm (UTC)I like how the feel of this is very much the blue-gray of the water and stone. Simple, but flowy!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-01 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-03 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-02 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-02 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-02 02:47 am (UTC)I like the dialog because it's...precise? And the narrator's description of Maria in the fourth paragraph because it's tender and contrasts with her impression of the selkie.
The level of detail in this is amaaaaazing. I'm still kind of in awe that you were able to pack so many details -- and so much subtext -- into so short a space.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-02 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-08 02:14 pm (UTC)I love the first line, and I love the last, and I also love everything in between. Well-executed, and definitely worth rereading. Thank you for this: as haunting as it was, it also felt very, very uplifting. The last line leaves me hoping for a happy ending, drowned or no. *grins* Beautifully done.