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July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. This is the final part of “The Queen and the Seal Lord” which was really only supposed to be one story but I got carried away. I also know that the description of Raghnall should have come sooner in the story, but between the first story and this one I decided that selkies have dad bod and I needed to include it.
Raghnall ducked his head under the waves. He was still trapped in human for, his knees weak, stomach roiling. He trembled, but that had nothing to do with the ocean’s chill. His seal coat was moving further inland, carried by someone with intent to do him harm. And he was forced to rely on Queen Gráinne — the same queen that just slapped him for insubordination — to return it.
A small pod of Raghnall’s trusted companions encircled him. Two were in seal form, swimming around him. The third stood on two legs, holding a net and trident and standing alert.
Réalta should have been among them. Her death was too recent to inspire grief in the selkie pod, only anger. If Raghnall survived this, he would see Réalta’s killers flayed.
Raghnall poked his head out from the water and breathed out a sigh. The shaking in his slightly webbed fingers stopped. Gráinne had his seal coat, and she was bringing it to him.
As soon as the queen arrived on the shore, her mount dark with sweat, she ran towards the sea. The selkies let her pass. Wordlessly, Gráinne held the seal coat out to Raghnall.
He donned it quickly, human feet becoming fins once more. He barked once, then dove into the ocean. The pod followed him.
A week later, Gráinne received a request for an audience. “He’s here now, my queen,” the courier said, almost apologetically. Few would be so bold to just assume the queen had the time or inclination to meet with them.
“Is he dressed?” Gráinne asked.
The courier’s pale cheeks turned pink. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Send him in.”
As a seal, Raghnall was svelte and strong; as a man, the extra blubber from his seal form settled on his limbs and torso. His whiskers had become a Van Dyke mustache and beard, which Gráinne felt rather suited him. He wore black trousers that had been patched multiple times, an open-breasted red shirt that popped against his gray skin, and a long, dark coat. At the collar was a with an embossed elk antler, marking him as a privateer.
“Hardly a suitable wardrobe to meet the queen in, but at least you have one this time,” Gráinne remarked. She stood up from her writing desk to greet him.
Raghnall bowed at the waist. “Was that a joke, Your Majesty?”
“They’ve been known to happen,” Gráinne replied once he’d straightened.
“I’m afraid at our last meeting I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I bring you thanks from Réalta’s family for returning her coat to them.” Raghnall reached into his pocket and produced two pink studs, shined to a polish: coral earrings. “They asked me to give you these.”
“Thank you.” Gráinne gingerly took the earrings from his hand. Most selkies owned few things, but loved what they had fiercely. “Please tell her family I will treasure them.” She replaced her carved bone earrings with the coral. “From what I knew of her, Réalta was clever and strong.”
“I couldn’t have asked for a better first mate.” Raghnall cleared his throat to keep tears from his voice. “I’d like to apologize to you as well, Ma’am.”
The notion of Raghnall apologizing for anything was so unexpected, Gráinne had to clap her hand over her mouth to stifle a burst of laughter. “Raghnall. You’ve sunk my ships. Raided my shores. I nearly hanged you once.”
Raghnall rubbed at his throat. “‘Nearly’ is the operative word.”
“And never once did you apologize for piracy. So what did you do that was so egregious to warrant one now?”
Raghnall looked away from her, and Gráinne realized that he was trying to hide his embarrassment. Until now, she wasn’t sure he’d even been capable of that particular emotion. “You retrieved my coat without hesitation, even after I blatantly disrespected you. Once I had it back, I did not even thank you.”
Gráinne shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve disrespected me for years. I wasn’t going to let you die out of spite.”
“Except for all the times you actually did try to kill me.”
“That’s different.” Gráinne actually smiled. Her royal duties kept her on land now, but Gráinne remembered her days fostered at sea as some of the best of her life. “The one time I did manage to arrest you—”
“And nearly hang me,” Raghnall added, unhelpfully.
“I decided to keep you instead.”
The seal lord blinked his inky eyes several times. “What am I supposed make of that?”
Gráinne thought a moment. “That our discussion about Hy-Brasil and your kin crossing the barrier is not finished, I suppose. And that at our next meeting, I expect you clothed.”
