4. Aegir
Chapter four
Aegir
IN WHICH AEGIR IS ENTIRELY PATHETIC
A egir shuffled back into the bunk room, flopping down on his temporary bed.
“Still hasn’t come out?” Jokith asked, using a fish bone to pick between his massive shark teeth.
“No, the breakfast I left for her this morning is untouched outside.” Aegir ran his hands through his hair, sighing in frustration. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. She seemed agreeable enough yesterday, it’s not like I tried to seduce her.”
“You brought her breakfast. Did you bring her water? Maybe she’s dehydrated.”
Aegir whipped his head off his pillow and looked at his friend, who seemed entirely serious.
“She’s not a plant who’s going to get dehydrated overnight. And of course I brought her water. Maybe I brought her the wrong kind of food…” 1
Perhaps selkies didn’t eat porridge or fruit, maybe they subsisted solely on fish. He hadn’t considered that she might be an obligate carnivore, but that would explain why she’d turned her nose up at the meal he’d offered. Yes. For dinner, he’d ensure that there was only fish on her plate, freshly caught. He’d at least have a clue based on what she ate from her lunch tray, if anything.
For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he’d had trouble getting the strange woman out of his mind. Perhaps it had been too long since he had sex. There was no other reason for her to be sticking quite so tightly. She was a barnacle in his brain, a niggling responsibility that he could neither shirk nor wait to be rid of.
When he returned at sundown with her supper, however, her lunch remained untouched.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore. He rapped on the door several times with his knuckles. “Elspeth, are you in there? You haven’t been eating and I’m starting to get worried. If you could just tell me what you like to eat, I’m sure I’ll be able to find something.” He was met with her continued silence. He knocked again, louder this time. “Elspeth, now, you see here! Open this damn door or I’m going to bring it down.”
He had obviously never had any trouble with wounds healing badly, but he had seen wounds that had festered, had seen people get fevers when they couldn’t heal. 2
“Elspeth, I am giving you until a count of three to open this door, I’m worried that you’re sick. Please make sure you are appropriately clothed.”
Her continued silence grated as he counted. By the time he got to three, the image of her, sick and dying in his bed, had coalesced in his mind. With a heave, he shouldered his way in, the precise application of force popping it inward easily.
He’d assumed he would find Elspeth, feverish, or perhaps asleep in his bed, recovering from her ordeal. Instead, the window was wide open, swung back on its hinges, and the wind whipped through the room. The unsecured edges of his papers ruffled in it. Rushing to shut it, Aegir noticed that his bed was a little rumpled. The silence only served to point out how empty the room felt without her filling it. He thought back to how he’d left her, tucked up into his bed, cozy and warm. He’d thought they had an agreement. He’d thought they were on the same page about their plan moving forward.
It was very clear that Elspeth kept her own counsel.
He shut the window, sitting dumbfounded on his bed. After encountering the word selkie the other day, he’d pored over several books of mythology trying to learn about them. While stories varied from culture to culture, many times the myths that had survived about magical people were more often right than not. What he had managed to find out was that they could transform into a seal via their pelt and that keeping the pelt kept them captive. He had no interest in keeping anyone captive, hence why he’d practically thrown the thing at her. Now that she had it back though, she’d taken the first opportunity she could to leave.
Why did that make the center of his chest ache? He rubbed it, hoping it would go away. She’d taken his shirt it seemed, the little minx, because it was nowhere to be found in his room.
Now that he thought on it, one book he read had mentioned that selkies didn’t form long term relationships. 3 They could be held via their pelt, but that they’d run at the first opportunity.
Which was a shame, really. He wasn’t fond of commitment himself. Or, well—not fond was unfair. He hadn’t ever had the opportunity for a real relationship—not that he’d ever wanted one. No, he was free to sow his wild oats, and it was a shame they couldn’t have had some fun before she left. It would have been nice to not even need to address the whole “I am not staying” thing with her.
Really, she’d been quite the sweet morsel. She’d been so much smaller than he, to be sure, but she was rounded in ways that made him feel like she’d squish beautifully under his hands. Leaning back on his bed, he tucked his hands behind his head feeling his cock begin to thicken. He closed his eyes, hoping he could imagine those lush curves better. He was a gentleman, so he hadn’t tried to look at her breasts when she was unclothed, but they had been right there, just out and about.
Jokith had often joked that Aegir’s type was “breathing,” which Aegir felt was unfair and reductionary. In truth, his type was consenting, available, and breathing. A very clear distinction.
It was a rare occasion that Aegir couldn’t find something pleasing in a potential lover. He delighted in uncovering each of their individual intricacies like a package. A little gift from each of them that he need only peel back the layers of their clothing to discover.
So it was not often that Aegir found himself in the position of being in want of a lover. In fact, he knew of at least one such a partner in a town nearby that he could reach with an hour’s swim. Though as he prepared to leave, the thought of meeting up with Una or even with Una and Greig, didn’t appeal.
It made no sense. Seconds ago, he’d been aroused and frustrated, but even the thought of Una or Greig had him softening in his slit.
It was possible he was unwell. It seemed perfectly logical—or it would, if it weren’t for one small problem.
It was nearly impossible for him to catch any illness, as his body had the subconscious ability to detect and fix problems, given he had the lunula to expend. He consumed copious amounts of the glowing algae to ensure that he never ran out at a crucial moment.
What his body was not equipped with, however, was a method for rectifying mental instabilities, beyond certain parameters.
Wincing, he took a deep breath, dreading the outcome of the experiment he knew he needed to conduct.
He thought of other past partners, and his traitorous cock stayed limp within his slit. The second he allowed his mind to wander back to Elspeth however, it perked right up like a daffodil in spring.
Perhaps he’d finally acquired a type. Maybe, after years of sampling the many delights that the Lady’s planet had to offer, he’d discovered a form, a shape that pleased him above all others.
So, with his eyes shut—and at this point, his hands clenched into tight fists—he thought of other past partners. Like he was cataloging them, Aegir ran through partners that shared physical characteristics with the woman who now so plagued his thoughts. Perhaps he now had an affinity for people who were shorter than him, or even people who had an enticing amount of squish.
But no matter what he did, no matter who else he thought of, he couldn’t seem to muster even a spark of interest. Infuriatingly, the second his mind wandered back to his so-recently-escaped selkie, his insistent member throbbed, pulling all of his attention to where it tried to poke from his slit, and to the faint scent of her that still hung in his room.
Try as he might, he couldn’t even clear his mind. Instead, he saw her determined frown, or how feral she’d looked biting onto his finger. He was plagued by the echoes of her feet slapping his deck as she followed behind him, or the rustle of her pelt as she settled it around her shoulders. If he strained, he could almost hear the drops of water as they fell from her hair and landed softly on the carpet of his room.
In some strange, desperate attempt to be closer to her, he threw himself to the floor, running his hands over his rug in search of one of those elusive drops. As if to mock his pain, the carpet was infuriatingly dry.
“Pull yourself together,” he admonished himself. He stood, resting his hand on his desk, the other being inexorably pulled toward his groin. Need surged within him, and soon he could tell there was really only one solution to his current predicament.
Sliding a finger closer, he toyed with the sensitive edges of his opening. Inside, he could feel his long length uncoiling as blood pumped into it, stiffening and reaching for friction.
He closed his eyes, hissing at how everything heightened when he recalled Elspeth in his room. Clutching her pelt around her, her naked calves and toes, standing atop his increasingly damp rug. He remembered how the water had made sections of her hair cling to her neck, the path of it obscured by the edge of her pelt. Elsewhere, strands had dripped directly into the pelt itself, which absorbed the droplets as if it were a sponge instead of the water resistant fur he would have assumed it to be.
His cock burst from his slit, the pink of it a sharp contrast to the grey that surrounded it, a break in the white and black pattern of his body. Over the years, he’d experimented with incorporating elements from his human background and his orca nature into his cock. He had also, on occasion, found a reason to experiment with additional modification, but he found he often preferred a form that felt as if it truly belonged to him, so it was largely cetacean in nature.
Further, he found that partners enjoyed its prehensile nature. Long and thick at the base, it tapered at the end, able to curl around itself or massage internally. That tip often felt as if it had a mind of its own. Though he could move it intentionally, often his subconscious and conscious mind disagreed about which was in control at any given moment.
As he slipped up its length, the end coiled around his fingers, an action that often only happened with partners. He was truly running mad now. Working his mouth, he gathered a bit of saliva before releasing the string of spit to fall on his hand and his cock.
The viscous liquid smoothed his fist’s passing, quickening his pace. Looking down, he realized that only yesterday the finger choking his cock had been inside Elspeth’s mouth. Momentarily, he forgot it wasn’t her spit slicking his hand, and his cock twitched in his hand.
For a reason he couldn’t quite explain, he hadn’t fully healed her bite, instead, allowing it to scar. He’d cursed the day before when she’d bit him hard enough to bleed, and had ripped it from her mouth. But now, he longed to feel it again. Switching hands, he shoved that finger back in his own mouth and traced the bumps left by her teeth with his tongue. He caressed them, and when he could stand it no longer, chomped down on it, not on top of the scar, but next to it, so that he wouldn’t risk marring it. He groaned at the feeling, his hips shuttling his fist with abandon, pleasure pulsing along the length of him, shooting up his spine, and echoing through his body. He stiffened, leaning against the table with his thighs, pistoning his hips and choking his cock, ramming his fist into his base with each stroke as he imagined Elspeth’s teeth around his finger.
As everything heightened, he remembered ripping his finger from her mouth, shaking it to ease the pain, and flinging his blood across her pelt. Just like it had absorbed the water, he now recalled how it had sucked up his blood as if it were drinking it.
Like a blinding flash of light, Aegir imagined that thirsty pelt, as it would look if he sprayed it with his cum, absorbing every drop of his essence, thirsty for him. His orgasm shot out of him, splattering the rug and his boots.
His breaths heaved from his chest as he recovered, his hair hanging in front of his face. Leaning on the table with his hand, he felt paper crinkle beneath it. When he looked down to shift it, he spied several spots on the paper. Distinct, circular spots that could only have been left by drops of water.
Drops of water falling from long strands of a selkie’s hair.
She’d read his letter, or rather the letter he’d stolen. Had something in the letter made her leave? It had referenced selkies.
Instead of trying to transcribe as he translated, Aegir instead read the letter straight through.
…This bond, which grants one explicit control over the selkie, can be initiated by bleeding on the fur pe lt that they use to transform. Initial tests indicate that this bond is instantaneous and can be used to control the selkie’s shift as well as their actions. Orders can be misinterpreted however, so careful phrasing is key…
Every fiber of his body rebelled at the idea; his stomach roiled until he thought he might actually be sick. The very notion of commanding someone else in such a way was so abhorrent that it made his skin crawl. No wonder she’d fled, distance from him, her captor —even the word made him want to vomit—was the safest thing she could do for herself.
Good luck to her, he thought. I wish her well. He had no more want of the bond than she did, so their separation was for the best.
Absently, he toyed with the edge of the letter, flicking it with his fingers as he tried to work out if there was any way of undoing the situation. While he didn’t want the bond, he couldn’t deny that the feeling of responsibility he’d had for her had only grown at the news. If they shared this bond, didn’t that mean he had some obligation to her? To see to her safety?
He knew nothing of it, but sensed that it couldn’t have been as simple as “you are essentially this person’s owner, now,” despite what the letter implied.
His frustration grew until he flicked the corner hard enough to see the other side… wi th writing. Flipping it over, he read the note transcribed on the back, presumably from the recipient of the letter.
Second selkie captured at the same location seems to have escaped. Dispatch ships to locate and retrieve the sister, as male selkie and application of the bond shows promise.
Retrieve her. Surely they must mean Elspeth? His heart thumped in his chest, panic beginning to rise. It didn’t matter if he was responsible for her or not. If the Pathian army was after her, he needed to warn her. She might think she was safe on her own, but the brunt of the Pathian navy was being dispatched to find her, and she was in more danger than she could ever possibly imagine.
And only he could save her from it.
1. Aegir, having met a great many different races of people, knew well that diets and dietary requirements varied greatly. He once told me of a group of people that eat only a spongy gelatinous goop that grows in their swamp and I nearly cast up my accounts.
2. Though the humans who lived in Sanctuary heal easily, that is only when they have lunula at their disposal. If they do not have access, or are not lunologists, they will become ill or acquire infection as easily as anyone else.
3. Obviously we know that this is unequivocally false.