Chapter 6

––––––––

T he plowing didn't take him long. The relief Flynn felt at being near her again was indescribable. He wanted to take his human form back and speak with her, hold her. But Mirren needed to see him as he truly was. If he wasn't trustworthy as a kelpie, how would he ever be trustworthy as a man?

Though his transformation had been a shock, it was also a relief. The agony over his secret had grown unbearable. He knew he was a coward for it, but he was grateful to her for stripping him of the choice between living a continued lie or revealing his true self.

He couldn't help with the planting, but he kept her company the next morning when she did so. The morning after that, he met her outside the bothy where she sat amidst the grass, staring out at the waves in an uncharacteristically listless pose. Flynn snorted a soft greeting.

She glanced at him. "Still here?" The anger in her voice had dulled, leaving it sad. It pierced something in Flynn's kelpie chest. Mirren, wrapped in her shawl, offered him a brief smile before returning her gaze to the sea.

"I knew you were too good to be real," she said softly. She poked her bare foot out and curled it into the sand. Her scar was so pale, he wouldn't have known to look for it if he hadn't been there to bind it up that first night in her bothy. "You were something out of a dream. Now my life feels like nothing. Not even a nightmare. It's a little ridiculous."

She attempted a carefree tone on those last words, but they fell like brittle glass. Flynn ached to comfort her. He wanted so much to wrap her in his arms and smell her clean, soapy scent tinged with salt, to tell her he was still here, and that he would never leave her. He'd forsaken his violent kelpie ways ever since he met her. Even before he'd stepped out of the sea, naked as a newborn and eager to be in her presence, he'd known he could never go back to killing humans. It was as true now as it had been then.

Mirren dug into her neckline and pulled out the silver horse on its chain, watching it dance in the early light. She glanced at Flynn. "Will you take it?"

Instinctively, he pulled back. He was still a kelpie. Could she ever accept him, now that she knew what he was? He wasn't ready to face her as a man. Not until he'd proven himself to her.

Sighing, she replaced the chain around her own neck.

"Then teach me how to ride. I've never ridden a horse."

Mirren's unexpected command sent a sharp jolt through him, like a hidden shell burrowing into a wound. Ride him? Have you lost your senses, Mirren? He wasn't a horse, he was a kelpie. He tried to put her off with a teasing chuckle, forgetting that he could only snort and whinny.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, her expression dangerously sharp. "Not ‘ride you' like that. Don't put me off trying to be funny."

Flynn backed up when she stood, nostrils flaring, but Mirren held out a gentle hand.

"Are you afraid?"

Was he? Of course he was. Afraid of what? Of forgetting everything he'd learned as a human? That he'd turn wild and hurt her, drown her, kill her?

"Flynn." Understanding dawned in her eyes. Her face softened. She remained still, letting her hand drop. "Please. Can you do this for me?"

She was offering him a chance to prove himself, the very chance he longed for. She wanted to know if she could trust him. Was he trustworthy enough for her?

I don't know. I want to be.

How can I refuse you, when you ask like that?

––––––––

M irren was a fast learner . She climbed on his back easily enough, clinging to him tightly and reminding him of all the nights he'd spent happily trapped between her legs. He didn't feel the same desire for her in kelpie form that he felt in human form. But it was pure delight, dangerous and sweet and tumultuous, to feel her slim weight on his back, to feel her hands fisting his mane and to hear her quickened breath as he walked slowly.

He continued walking for some time, threading through the island's hills near her bothy. The sole time Mirren fell off and landed on a tussock, she clambered to her feet, laughing, before Flynn could even be alarmed. Once she had remained on his back for some time and he felt her ease slightly, Flynn began to canter. When she urged him on, murmuring low in his ear, he broke into a gallop.

Mirren's excited laughter broke through the sough of wind in the grass. She leaned closer to him, finding the rhythm easily as she had during their nights wrapped in each other's arms. Pride glowed in Flynn's chest. That's my Mirren. How well you learn.

They rode for hours. Mirren learned to steer him, to communicate without words when she wanted to gallop or slow to a walk or dismount. He could feel her own pride mirrored in his. Then she steered him away from the hills. The sea came into view and Flynn's elation twisted. She wouldn't. Would she?

She was. She was steering him towards the water. He could not stop, but his thoughts galloped.

What if my possessiveness towards her is no better than a kelpie's lusts? What if the sea brings my past nature back? What if I am no better in human form than in my true form? I may have traded my kelpie appetites for human ones, but what if I destroy her all the same? He tossed his mane and whinnied, snorting and balking his panic.

"Shhh, Flynn. It's all right." Mirren leaned over his neck, stroking him, hugging him. "I'm here. I'm here." It was no use, though. His body reared once, backing away from the surf. Mirren slid from his back and landed expertly at his side, taking his face in her hands. His breath blew the hair back from her face. "I'm sorry, Flynn. I didn't think. I didn't know it would frighten you."

She flung her arms around his neck, and suddenly all was well. "I'm sorry," she whispered, over and over again, until he ached again to comfort her, his own fears a speck on the horizon rather than a tidal wave. "I never should have taken your necklace."

My lovely, dearest Mirren, there is nothing left to forgive.

"Come back to me, Flynn," she whispered. He couldn't see her, pressed against his neck as she was, but the words shifted something inside of him. The necklace swung into view as Mirren stepped back, holding it out to him. "Teach me to swim like you promised," she said. "I need to see you. Come back to me."

Suddenly, he knew he could. She had embraced him in his original form. He wanted to take his true form, the one where he felt most himself.

He lowered his head towards the necklace. Mirren's surprised murmur echoed in his ears as the chain stretched in her hands, fitting easily round his equine neck, and he felt the cool, thin strand of metal against his skin. The world shifted and cracked. His bones crumbled and regrew in one searing, shattering moment. He stood before her as a man, naked and trembling like a newborn colt with the aftereffects of transformation. The full return of his human emotions punched him in the gut with the strength of a hundred fists.

Why is this so damned awful? He wondered, grimacing. Ah, yes. The last time you chose transformation, you were in the sea.

Before Mirren had taken his necklace, he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on how much he could lose. Now, everything he wanted stood before him, face-to-face once more. Instead of losing her, she had embraced him. All his human desires came rushing back. And with them, a profound and unwavering certainty.

Mirren's wide-eyed stare darted up and down his form, her throat bobbing.

"I'd forgotten about your clothes," she said, and cleared her throat. "Do you want them?"

"They'll weigh me down in the water." His voice was husky with disuse. "Unless you'd rather I wore them."

Mirren hesitated briefly, biting her lip. Then she stripped down to her bare skin, her wide eyes never leaving his face. Not, that is, until the pleasure of seeing her naked became obvious in his own body, drawing her gaze down.

"People will talk if they see you," he managed. A smile, more shy than sly, twisted her pretty mouth. With a toss of her hair she walked into the surf, leaving Flynn to follow.

If she is a tide, I have already drowned, and I give myself wholly to her.

––––––––

S he gasped when the water hit her knees. Her arms thrown out, every line of her body tense, she was trying bravely to keep from looking nervous, and meanwhile Flynn was reminded that the cold water did nothing to dampen his desire.

But Mirren was shivering violently, her skin prickling with the cold. The sky was fading to pale twilight.

"Would you rather wait?" he asked, coming to stand at her side and refraining from taking her in his arms to warm her. I'd do more than that if I could. But she doesn't need that now. "The sea will be here tomorrow."

She shook her head. "I want to do this. No more waiting."

Even as she plunged ahead with the grace of a sea bird on land, Flynn couldn't help admiring her and the slight curves of her body that tightened and relaxed with each effort. The waves curled silver and green towards them, filling the air with their briny tang. Mirren yelped as one splashed against her and sent spray into her face. Flynn caught up to her easily. He wasn't much taller than she was, but even in his human form the steadily growing waves shocked him less, and he didn't mind the dousing. He'd be willing to put up with a lot more discomfort if it meant staying with her in this moment. Yet still Mirren fought to remain calm, her shoulders tight as she forged ahead.

"The floor drops just ahead," he warned. "Take my hand, Mirren."

She did so, keeping her eyes fixed on the darkening horizon. Flynn couldn't help the smile that broke across his face; she was touching him again, without hesitation, and it felt so right and true. "Here it is," he said, and the next moment he was treading water, held in the water's rocking embrace, carefully bringing her out with him.

Mirren made a panicked sound and bobbed like an apple, the water rising to her neck. "It's all right," he soothed, taking both her hands, then her waist, holding her steady as she flailed, ignoring how his body responded to her proximity. "I won't let you go under."

"I can't, Flynn! It's too deep!"

"Yes, you can. Just tread with your feet and let the waves carry you. It's like walking."

Mirren gripped his arms so tightly her nails dug into his skin, her breathing erratic and shallow, her legs kicking out uselessly. Flynn turned to the side and narrowly avoided an ill-placed knee to the groin. That, at least, helped his nether regions calm down a little.

"Mirren," he grunted, "I'm not letting go."

She stopped thrashing at once, her eyes fixed on the sliver of water lapping between them.

"I'm not letting go," he repeated. Mirren, I'll do anything not to fail you. "I'm not letting go." He continued murmuring gently until her shoulders dropped and her shallow breaths became slower, her movements less frantic. As good as it felt to hold her, he knew better than to remain still too long. Once Mirren relaxed into the rhythm of the waves, he swam them out to where they rose higher, easing her through each one until she anticipated and rode the undulations without resistance.

"Better?"

She nodded vigorously, her teeth chattering as she spoke. "So I can float, that isn't swimming. Teach me how to swim now."

"You have to push out with your arms and kick out with your legs." He demonstrated with one arm while keeping the other around her waist, then moved to give her space to practice, still holding onto her. As with riding, it didn't take Mirren long to learn. Flynn, who had struggled to learn how to fish with a net and bake bread and a number of other mundane human activities, would have found her efficiency irritating were he not so thrilled to be with her. She even pushed his arms away and swam in a circle on her own, her face brightening as she rose and dipped with the waves.

When a larger wave rolled towards them, her confidence slipped again. "I can't," she said, panic widening her eyes, her limbs flailing again.

"Yes, you can. We'll ride it together." Flynn acted almost on instinct. He pulled her against his chest, wrapping her in his arms and treading for both of them as the wave pushed them up, up, up, and gently bore them back down. Mirren shrieked and held onto him, but he felt the lessening of tension in her body, and the shriek bordered on laughter. "You see?" He murmured. "We made it through."

She relaxed against him. They found a rhythm with their legs so as not to kick each other while she remained in his arms. His throat closed, his eyes closed, and the expansive place in his chest opened even more. He inhaled her scent. This was perfect. She was perfect. How was she so perfect? He wanted this moment to last forever. Although he was grateful for the small space between them, as his body clearly wanted a lot more than just to hold her. The bowl of the sky turned deepest blue shot with pinpricks of light, leaving the water dark and glimmering in starlight.

"Is this you?" she said, a whisper so small it almost drowned in the waves. "Is Flynn real?"

"This is real," he replied, without hesitation. "You make me real."

She withdrew to search his face. "What does that mean?" Fear flashed across her features. "Do you want to remain a kelpie? If you do, I will let you go."

"No." By the depths, the last thing he wanted was to lose her. Never again.

"Do you mean, you expect me to keep you human? Help me understand, Flynn."

He complied eagerly. "When we met, you asked if I'd lost something. I'd lost myself. I wasn't sure who I was. But because of you, I know who I am. I want to live as a human. But I'm scared, Mirren." He leaned his forehead against hers, fearing to look into her eyes, feeling suddenly cold and Mirren was the only warmth he could sense in the world. "I want you so much it frightens me. I can't hurt you again."

"Oh, Flynn." Her voice was unbearably tender. "Perhaps our kinds have more in common than you think. We both can be possessive and destructive, carried away by our lusts." She inhaled slowly. "I never wanted to ask where you'd come from because I feared you would disappear. But it's you I love, Flynn, all of you. And it's your life. You cannot choose how you will live for my sake alone."

Something settled into place with her words. "Whatever my soul is made of, it is set alight by the very existence of the woman I love. Is mise mo anam ." Flynn pulled her close, feeling as if every fiber of his being would burst with happiness as a sympathetic tremor ran through her lithe body. "What if I choose a life with you? Will you let me live by your side, Mirren?"

In response, she kissed him.