The Selkie Bride

 

A long time ago there lived a young girl who lived by the sea. Her name was Rona and the tiny village she called home clung tightly to the coast. There was nothing much between the wee fisherman’s houses and the sea apart from a rocky shoreline where the villagers tied up their skiffs at night.

 

Rona had no mother and they say that when she died, Rona’s father’s heart turned to stone and he was no longer the same man who sang songs and told his children stories. He worked at sea, he fished and drank and smoked his pipe staring out to see for long periods of time – and not much else beyond that.

 

Rona had a lot of brothers and sisters and they all lived in a tiny fisherman’s cottage which had only two rooms. Space was so tight Rona and the younger siblings slept in fishing nests which hung from the roof, while their father slept in a small box bed in the other room.

 

Her oldest sister Agnes was the one who looked after all the children in the household. The other women in the village said she had the makings of a good fish wife. She fed the children porridge every morning, dressed them and brushed Rona’s long golden hair into a neat braid that ran down her back.  At night she sang old ballads to the children in a sweet voice, mainly about the sea and the lives that loved and lost on them.

 

Aside from the mornings and evenings however, Agnes did not have much time for Rona and the younger children – her days were taken up with gutting herring, baiting nets and gossiping with the other fisher lassies of the village. Once the children were fed and dressed, they were herded out the door to roam around and play with the other children of the village.

 

But Rona had little time for the other children of the village, and had no interest in their games. They thought her a strange and quiet child who spent a long time on her own. It’s true that Rona loved to sit quietly and observe the sea life around her. She was fascinated by the ecology of the rockpools, shoreline and sea. She could watch the seals hunting or the cormorants squabbling for hours. Her teacher quite despaired of her as she was habitually caught staring out the window, instead of doing sums and the minister washed his hands of her because she did not know one disciple from the next at Sunday school. But Rona was by no means friendless.

 

There was an old lighthouse keeper and his wife who lived on the headland, about a mile from the last few houses of the village. They minded the lighthouse - a proud white beacon towering over 100 feet above the black lava rocks which adorned the shore - as well as the keeper’s cottage and grounds. Mr and Mrs Ferguson while a kindly old pair, their four tall sons all fully grown had left home to seek their fortune overseas. The old couple thought of Rona as the daughter they never had.

 

Mr Ferguson had a soft heart and a love for the sea birds which lived and migrated around his lighthouse. Rona delighted in looking at his marvellous collection of ships in bottles – all made by his own hand. What’s more, Mr Ferguson often to read aloud to her letters from his sons, recounting their adventures on the high seas.

 

Mrs Ferguson was quite a beautiful wee woman with her long grey hair kept in a neat low bun and her delicate hands were always kept busy with knitting jumpers for the poorest children of the village, making remedies from her herb garden and keeping everything neat and tidy. She was very wise and knew the ways of healing. She was the midwife of the village and she was frequently called on to settle disputes which occasionally arose between the fisherfolk. She had a calming and nurturing manner evident in the way young children and animals were drawn to her. There were usually hordes of children running through the Ferguson household at some point during the day, either being fed hot broth or stories or both.

 

But over Rona Mrs Ferguson positively doted, and Rona always had a new gansie to keep her warm as she explored the coastline around her home. Rona most of all loved to listen to Mrs Ferguson’s stories – she knew so many!

 

Rona and the Fergusons were well matched in their care for all the animal life around them and the old pair got quite used to Rona bringing sick or injured animals to be nursed back to health – whether it was a seagull chick who had lost its parents or a gannet which had broken it’s wing - the Fergusons always made room somewhere for Rona to nurse unfortunate creatures back to health.

 

One day – quite out of the blue – on a sunny Midsummer’s morning after a terrible storm, Rona appeared on their doorstep with an injured young seal in her arms. And this is where the story begins.

 

Never had Rona brought something as large a seal to their house – the old couple were quite taken aback. But as kindly as they were, of course they could not turn Rona and her seal away. The poor thing had what looked like a knife wound on his side and was looking very forlorn. ‘Well,’ said Mrs Ferguson, ‘we can’t build him a wee nest in the shed like we do with the birds – we’ll have to think of something else!’

 

Fortunately, she still had her old cradle from when her great big sons were babies, and she bade her husband go and retrieve it from the loft of their cottage. Up the rickety ladder he went to fetch the cradle – a proper fisherman-built wooden cradle, with a hood and two handles at the bottom – while his wife retrieved some spare blankets from an old battered sea chest in their bedroom.

 

‘Rona dear, place the poor thing on the table and I will see to his wound and you can make up a bed with these blankets,’ said Mrs Ferguson as she bustled around her dresser. Mr Ferguson, having scrambled down the ladder with his heavy load placed the cradle in front of the fire while Rona made up a cosy bed with the blankets.

 

‘Not such a deep wound, I’m sure he must have injured himself on a sharp rock somehow,’ said Mrs Ferguson, ‘I’ll get it cleaned up and bound in no time.’ And she set to work.

 

Once the young seal had been washed and dressed in clean bandages, Rona carefully placed him in the cradle and cooried him snugly in the blankets. He looked up at her gratefully with his big solemn eyes and promptly fell asleep.

 

‘Well I never thought I’d see a seal in that cradle!’ exclaimed Mr Ferguson wondrously. Mrs Ferguson was still bustling around – there was more work to do. ‘Rona my dear fetch my big pot from the store, I’m going to show you a special soup only I and my ancestors know how to make.’ The pot was far too big for the stove so they all piled outside and left the seal to rest in peace.

 

Once they had collected enough driftwood from the beach, Mr Ferguson set about building a big fire on the machair outside their cottage. Mrs Ferguson took Rona to gather seaweed from the shore. They gathered Irish moss, linarich, tangle and dulse before the old woman showed Rona how to wash and prepare their seaweed harvest for cooking.

 

‘This stuff here, my dear makes the most delicious and nourishing soup in the world and with a bit of magic added it will speed up healing.’ Rona nodded solemnly, knowing this was very important and special knowledge that was being passed down to her.

 

‘The last thing I need now Rona is some milfoil  - the yarrow flower which grows in the hedgerows, will you fetch me some lass?’

 

As the three of them gathered round the bubbling pot of seaweed soup by the sea, Rona handed the little white flowers she gathered for Mrs Ferguson. The old woman stirred the flowers into the soup seven times clockwise then once anti-clockwise, while she sang a charm:

 

 

 

 

May I be and isle in the sea

May I be a star in the waning if the moon

May I be a staff to the weak

Heal I can every man

Wound can no man me.

 

 

From that day on Rona came to the cottage every day to tend to the sick seal and feed him the magic seaweed soup as he grew stronger. Soon the little seal was well enough to keep nice and wet in the bath tub. The magic soup and Rona’s care had certainly done the trick because one morning the Fergusons had awoken to find the seal had gone. He had gone back to the sea while they slept. Rona was sad when she heard the news as she had grown fond of the seal. It felt like she had made a new friend. She was glad that the seal was well enough to go back to his home, but she would miss him sorely.

 

Mrs Ferguson was able to cheer Rona up with a surprise, ‘Look Rona, I do believe he has given you a gift - it was left on our doorstep. No one has been up this early to leave such a thing for us.’ In her hand was a beautiful shell, the most unusual shaped shell Rona had ever seen.

‘It’s beautiful!’ she exclaimed.

‘I’m sure something like this could not have been found by one of the village children,’ said Mr Ferguson thoughtfully.

‘No,’ agreed his wife, ‘there is certainly more to this seal than meets the eye.’

 

There was no more sign of the seal after that and as time went on Rona grew up. Two wonderful things happened in that time: Mr Ferguson taught Rona how to row and sail a skiff and every Midsummer a gift was left on the lighthouse cottage doorstep for Rona. Each year the shells were more beautiful than the last.

 

 

 

Rona grew to be quite a beautiful young woman and a few of the village boys around her age who were once course towards her but a few years ago were now quite wild for her. There was one young lad in particular who was very fond of Rona – the farmer’s son. He was always on the lookout for Rona and used every opportunity to speak with her if he could. This was no easy task as Rona was naturally a shy girl and she was often hard to find. She spent a long time out on her skiff exploring the coastline.

 

Everyone in the village remarked on what a natural sea woman Rona was and every day she was out in her little skiff, in fair weather and foul. There was one Midsummer’  night however when the alarm was raised - Rona had not come home! There was quite a panic as a fine day had turned into a misty one – as often happens along the coast and the fog was so thick, the villagers couldn’t see their outstretched arms. It was no use sending out a search party until the fog had cleared.

 

The Fergusons were sitting up late that night, for who could sleep when their beloved Rona was missing at sea? They were sitting waiting anxiously by the fire when they heard a knock on the cottage door.

 

Mr Ferguson answered the door and there was a dark haired young man holding a wet and shivering Rona in his arms! The old couple were both shocked and delighted, she had been found. Mrs Ferguson lead the young man inside, thanking him profusely and offered him a seat by the fire, hot tea and blankets but he refused it all.

 

‘No thank you, good lady, I will go back to my home how. Please take care of Rona – I know she will be safe with you.’

 

Mrs Ferguson peered at him, he was the handsomest young man she had ever seen. More handsome than Mr Ferguson had been in his youth. But she had never seen this young man in the village, he was a stranger and he had a very wild way about him. ‘Are you sure young man? We are so grateful to you for rescuing Rona, she is very dear to us, though she is not our daughter.’

 

 ‘I know, said the young man. I have been watching over you all for a long time.’ And without another word he went out the door and into the darkness.

 

Mrs Ferguson was too surprised for words, so she stoked the fire and made Rona warm. Mr Ferguson headed out towards the village to let Rona’s family know she was found, safe and sound, that she was rather wet and cold and should not be moved from their cottage until she was better.

 

Rona recovered much quicker than expected and after a day or two she was able to tell Mrs Ferguson what had happened.

 

‘I went out in my skiff as usual, it was a lovely warm and sunny day, but I could see the sea mist beginning to make its way ashore so I knew I had to turn back, but something caught my eye in the water – a strange glimmer – like a light. I was so curious about it I forgot all about the mist and watched it for a while. When I decided to row back it was too late the mist was all round and I had lost all sense of direction. I was just starting to panic when something tipped the boat – a freak wave out of nowhere! I was sure it was an enchantment. As I cannot swim I thought this was the end of me; I was under the water, drowning, when I saw a seal swim by, then after a moment I felt these strong arms around me. After that I don’t remember anything, then I woke here in this house.’

 

It was a strange story, but the Fergusons believed her, as Rona was known to be a truthful girl. Mrs Ferguson however, wanted to know more about the strange young man. ‘In good time I think we’ll know who and what he is’ she said knowingly to herself.

 

After that Rona could not keep away from the sea, in her skiff or out of it – for another strange thing happened – Rona seemed to now be able to swim. None of the villagers could swim, despite being fisherfolk – they were afraid of the sea and extremely superstitious about it. But Rona seemed to love it more than ever. And the more she swam in the sea the happier and more beautiful she looked. The Fergusons noticed it – as too did the villagers. Rona was quite irresistible.

 

Everyone knew that Davie the farmers son was now passionately in love with Rona and wanted to make her his wife. It was no use however, Rona was not interested in the slightest. She thought his father was too greedy and the son uninteresting with a distinct lack of curiosity about the world. Mrs Ferguson also knew that Rona was in love with someone else and she suspected it had something to do the with that strange handsome young lad who rescued her and who had taught her to swim.

 

After the scare of almost losing a daughter, Rona’s father had awoken from his long melancholy and was a much more attentive father. He started to tell stories again and even sing, though they were rather sad songs about lost loves at sea. He still liked a drink however and occasionally entertained company in the village pub with his mournful ballads.

 

One night after a particularly long and tragic ballad, there was barely a dry eye in the pub. ‘Well, Sandy’ said one of the fishermen, ‘your voice fairly breaks the heart, but why do you never sing a more jolly tune – there’s plenty of them about and you have such a good voice we’d like to hear you sing them.’

 

‘I’m sorry I have only the heart for the sad ones, I have had too much sorrow in life,’ was his reply and the fishermen were silent because they knew that when Sandy had lost his beloved wife he was so broken that he was no longer the same man.

 

Mr Forbes the farmer however, was not as respectful as the fishermen, he was greedy and miserly and because he owned land, thought he was above the company. ‘Och Sandy,’ he scorned, ‘I hate to see a man lose his vitality over a woman – what’s a broken heart when there’s work to be done and grain to harvest?’

 

‘As if you’ve never been in love, we ken you were sweet over yer ain wife,’ came a retort from one of the fishermen.

 

‘A long time ago now aye and thank God I’m free of it. I’m not young anymore and have other things to think of. My son though - he’s head over heels for some lassie in the village though I have never seen or heard of her.’

 

An awkward silence followed, for everyone knew exactly who that lassie was, except the farmer.

 

The farmer went on, ‘I told him; ask her to wife then if yer that keen, it needn’t be anyone rich or smart as long as she bear your children and make herself useful about the house and farm, pick who you want as a wife get on with it and more importantly, get back to work.’

 

Whether Sandy knew this was a prospect for Rona or not he never let on, but his closest friend could tell by the slight curve of his mouth that he did, and he knew that this was not the future he wanted for his wild young daughter. Sandy was a romantic at heart, but he knew better than to make trouble for himself with the big farmer up the hill and stayed silent.

 

All would have been well had it been left at that, but unfortunately one of the young farm hands, who was sweet on Rona himself and jealous of the smart farmer’s son for being able to make an offer, and who had a little too many a dram that night piped up, ‘well we call ken who he’s talking about though I’m not naming any names. But I must warn you gaffer, that the lassie in question in quite sweet on another, in fact she’s as good as married a wild looking young lad who nobody seems to know – must be a stray tinker.’

 

Another awkward silence followed briefly before the farmer fumed ‘Christ the Lord, the little tart should tell him if she’s promised to another. It’ll have to be to beat some sense into him and tell him to forget the sea harpy.’

 

At that point the barman thought it best to call last orders.

 

Of course Davie was too passionate to heed his father’s beating, but he was furious at the news that some traveller boy was courting his intended wife. He decided to take matters into his own hands.

 

It was the day before Midsummer’s Eve and Rona had rowed out to her favourite skerry, with its lichen-covered black rocks, tufts of flowering pink thrifts and shallow rockpools. The young man was sitting on a rock waiting for her. Usually their meetings were filled with joy and laughter but today the young man could tell there was something amiss with his Rona, ‘what worries you lassie? It saddens me to see you like this, come for a dive and I’ll show you something wonderful.’

 

‘I can’t dive with you or meet with you anymore, at least for a while - I only came to tell you this and it breaks my heart,’ explained Rona as she burst into tears.

 

The young man took her in his arms and stroked her hair, ‘I don’t understand, what could possibly keep you from me? You think I’m going to let you leave when I know you love me deeply.’

 

‘Oh it’s that nuisance of a farmer’s son again. I’m used to avoiding him, he’s so stupid I can easily slip past him. But he’s now got that vile hunter on my case, that brute of a fellow, the one who hunts your kind for their skins.’

 

The farmer’s son had indeed enlisted the help of the local hunter who skulked about in his boat with a cruel harpoon and shotgun, to pray on unfortunate sea creatures for their skins and blubber. Davie paid him well, behind his father’s back, to stalk Rona and watch her every movement, as if she were a seal herself.

 

‘I have managed to slip past him today but he is very cunning, and if anything should happen to you I could not bear it, it’s for your safety I must stay away.’ She sobbed between tears.

 

‘Now listen to me Rona, you have my heart as you well know, but it is time we made that official with my people. I should have done this long ago, wed me and you shall have our protection. Take my hand and dive with me, trust me and all will be well.’

 

Rona took one look back at the shore and the lighthouse, at the little skiff anchored in the shallows next to the skerry. She looked at the man she loved and took his hand. Wordlessly they dived into the shallows and together the swam into the depths of the sea.

 

 

The following day, on Midsummers Eve, the Ferguson’s household was a very happy one for all four sons had returned to their family home at the same time. It was a great day of celebration for the family as it was the first time after many long years they had all been under the same roof.

 

The oldest son brought his wife and two small children, the second son was now quite wealthy and brought many gifts, the third had turned pirate and came in disguise as the law was on his tail but the fourth and youngest child was the strangest of all. He had shown up shortly after his brothers after having gone missing several years ago. He was thought to have been lost at sea.

 

His family were over-joyed to see him but they could not help but notice his strange appearance. His eyes, once blue, were now a deep dark brown - almost black, his hair once fair was now black and wild and strangest of all, he now wore a long brown coat. The Fergusons had never seen such a coat – it was the softest material they had ever come across and it shimmered in the light and he never took it off. He was much quieter than they remembered but he was very kind and gentle and was full of joy to see his parents and brothers again.

 

In the evening the family had a ceilidh. Mrs Ferguson hung fresh garlands stuffed with St John’s Wort and elderflowers around the house and burned herbs in the fire all day so the whole cottage smelled fresh and clean. Mr Ferguson got out his fiddle while the rich son brought along a brand new set of pipes to play, the pirate was an excellent drummer and borrowed his brother’s bodhran. The children giggled and danced. As the night drew in and the summer dim swept the sky, the adults took it in turns to tell stories and sing songs. The youngest son had the strangest stories to tell and he had both adults and children enthralled as he told strange tales from the underworld, a magic place deep under the sea, the home of the seal people.

 

Just as the children were dropping off to sleep, there came a frantic knock at the door. The oldest brother answered the door to a hysterical Rona. It was clear something awful had happened. ‘Please help me, come as quickly as you can, my husband has been wounded, I cannot carry him myself!’

 

‘Your husband!? cried Mrs Ferguson as her husband stood dumbstruck with his mouth ajar.

 

‘Please, I’ll tell you everything later, there’s not a moment to lose, come quickly.’

 

The youngest brother sprang to his feet and roused his brothers to do the same. ‘We will go now, lass. The four of us can carry him, lead the way.’

 

The four of them followed Rona as she ran over the machair towards the black rocks by the sea only a few hundred yards away, while the Fergusons stayed behind with their grandchildren. The eldest brother held aloft a gas lamp to light the way.

 

There on the rocks was a bleeding, semi-conscious young man with wild black hair and big brown eyes, ‘Rona…’ he moaned, as if in a lot of pain.

 

‘Hush now, I have brought help, we can carry you to the lighthouse keeper’s cottage.’ whispered Rona. And so the brothers lifted him up and were able to carry the young man to the safety of the cottage and Mrs Ferguson’s care.

 

However as he lay on the Ferguson’s bed with his wound washed and wrapped, he said to his nurse. ‘Thank you for your trouble good lady. This is the second time you have cared for me, as I think you already know. But this wound is much deeper than the last time the hunter got me, I need the healing of my own people.’

 

The youngest Ferguson brother looked at the young man with his big dark brown eyes, their eyes were remarkably similar. ‘I can help you seal brother,’ he said. ‘tell me where your kin reside and I will fetch them for you.’ He bent his head forward as the young man whispered something in his ear in a queer language.

 

‘I will be back by dawn. Mother you needn’t worry – I think you already know.’ And with that he left the cottage and into the night.

 

‘I have a draught to make you sleep until your people come but tell us first, young man, what happened’ said Mrs Ferguson.

 

‘Rona and I, we were doing our Midsummer rites by the lava rocks when the hunter came upon me. I was too quick for him and I was able to restrain him while Rona called for aid, my kind have taken him.’

 

‘We thought we were safe after that, but the farmer’s son, in his rage sneaked up behind us in the dark and stabbed him with a knife. He’s such a coward he ran away,’ added Rona.

 

‘Tell us which way he went, lass and we’ll after him!’ cried the pirate brother and with that the brothers were up and arms after the farmer.

 

Now that the young man was asleep and the brothers out on their mission to track down the farmer’s son, Mrs Ferguson turned to Rona, ‘sit down by the fire my dear and tell me everything, it’s now time I think.’

 

‘You are very wise Mrs Ferguson, I think you already know most of it, but for Mr Ferguson’s benefit I will tell you everything.’ Mr Ferguson was indeed looking lost for words as the night’s dramatic scenes had unfolded. His wife poured him a dram of whisky.

 

‘Remember that seal we nursed back to health Mrs Ferguson? Well that was Finn, my husband – he’s a selkie!’

 

Mrs Ferguson nodded her head knowingly while her husband looked aghast, ‘well, I’ve heard of such tales but I never thought they were real!’ he exclaimed.

 

Mr Ferguson recalled the tales he was told as a child about selkies – the seal people. These were magical beings who could take the form of both human and seal. Often, when people went missing at sea for a long time and returned, it was said that they were living with the selkies under the sea.

 

‘Yes it’s true, they are real and they are the most wonderful people Mr Ferguson. The best you could find. It was he who left me a shell on your doorstep every Midsummer as a thanks for rescuing him. He watched over us all over the years and it was he who rescued me, as you already know.’

 

‘After that night we saw each other every day, he taught me to dive and swim and showed me so many wonderous things under the sea. We soon fell in love and we pledged our hearts to each other. It was not until that obnoxious farmer’s son sent the hunter to haunt my steps that we had to do something. That was when we decided to get married, according to custom of his people.’

 

‘To do this I had to dive with him and meet his people in their dwelling under the sea. It’s located deep down in a cavern. If you dive with a selkie, you can get there very fast. Once you’re in the cavern, you can breathe as normal. It is the most beautiful place I have ever been. The walls are lined with mother of pearl, there are seaweed gardens which flower and bloom all year round. There are glowing lights and fountains and beautiful furniture made of coral. I met with the selkie chief, who is also Finn’s father. He took me as his daughter and blessed our union and has given me this selkie coat, much like your son’s coat. This means that we are as good as selkies now, we can swim underwater as the seals can. Your son also must have been given a coat by a selkie. That’s why he was so long away – he was with them.’

 

This time, both the Fergusons looked aghast. ‘Then the old stories are true, and our son, our own son is…he’s one of them now?’

 

‘Partly, yes Mr Ferguson, as long as he has his coat -  but it’s a wonderful thing,’ replied Rona, ‘they are the best people I have ever met with. Far better than the people of the village, for they never gossip or are greedy, or punish anyone harshly. And when you are in their dwelling, it is like another world and time does not pass in the same way as it does here. You can spend what feels like a long time there and hardly any time has passed here, but it can also be the other way round.’

 

‘They have accepted me as Finn’s wife with love and they gave me a song to sing if we were ever in danger. That’s why they came so quickly to take the hunter away when he tried to kill Finn. If it wasn’t for that silly farmer we would be fine and well.’

 

‘Where have the selkies taken the hunter?’ asked Mrs Ferguson

 

‘To their dwelling deep down in the sea and they will teach him a lesson he won’t forget but they will not hurt him. They are not capable if hurting humans, but they have a wonderful way of teaching them a lesson, he’ll return a changed man, you’ll see.’

 

The Fergusons were thinking of the change in their own youngest son, when the three oldest brothers returned from their hunt.

 

‘We caught up with the little sneak trying to wash away his crime in a stream,’ explained the oldest.

 

‘Oh my goodness, Douglas please tell me you didn’t do anything rash!’ cried Mrs Ferguson.

 

‘Of course not mother, we just dragged the little rat back to his father and told him what he did.’

 

‘That man has no honour,’ said the second brother, ‘He said he’s not bothered if some traveller lad has been maimed, he’ll only give his son a beating for being late home and paying the hunter with his father’s money without his knowing.’

 

‘Well, there’s none of us here would be surprised to hear that.’ said Mr Ferguson.

 

‘I would have said more or reported him to the magistrate were it not for our fugitive brother here,’ said the eldest brother, pointing his thumb at his pirate brother.

 

‘No indeed, we can’t have policemen sniffing around here, you best be off again soon Robert, for your own safety.’ said his mother anxiously.

 

‘What I could have given to thump both father and son!’ cried the pirate, ‘I am sorry Rona, I fear you won’t get much peace from the weasel.’

 

‘Thank you gentlemen, for all you have done, I am very grateful. But my seal kin will be here soon. They will know what to do.’ replied Rona.

 

Dawn was breaking as she uttered these words and true to his word, the Ferguson’s youngest son returned home and with him two strangers - a man and a woman, both with the same dark brown eyes, wild black hair and long brown seal coats. They were the handsomest couple the Fergusons had ever laid eyes on.

 

‘Greetings and salutations, good humans,’ the man said ‘I am the chieftain of the seal people, this is my wife, she is a skilled healer and will see to our son, if you show her the way, my good lady.’ He bowed low to Mrs Ferguson, who promptly led the beautiful selkie woman to her bedroom where Finn lay asleep.

 

‘And now to business,’ the chieftain said, turning to the brothers, ‘you have done us great service gentlemen and you shall be rewarded, name your price and it shall be granted. We have returned the hunter to his home and family. No longer shall he be a danger to us.

 

‘Mr Ferguson, you have been a great help to my son and daughter-in-law, forever shall you and your family have our protection.

 

‘Rona, we will take you and Finn with us to our dwelling now for we believe this is no longer a safe place for you. Humans can be a cruel race at times and these people who have hurt our son, will do so again. Do you wish to come with us?’

 

Rona nodded ‘I do, but I will say my goodbyes first.’

 

Mrs Ferguson returned to the room with the seal woman. ‘It is time,’ was all she said. Her voice was like sweet music.

 

Rona turned to Mrs Ferguson and ran into her arms. ‘thank you for being a mother to me all these years, I will never forget you. But I know my place is in the sea with Finn. I have never felt like I belong here in the village, I will be happier there.’

 

Turning to Mr Ferguson she said, ‘You made me a boat, taught me to sail and did things for me my own father could not. Thank you Mr Ferguson.’

 

The Chieftain and his wife, with the help of the Ferguson’s selkie son, carried Finn to the water’s edge, Rona walked alongside them and looked back for the last time at the shoreline, the lighthouse and the Fergusons standing outside their cottage and waved goodbye. They disappeared into the waves.

 

When news got round the village that Rona had left, only the farmer was relieved, eventually his son would forget her and marry someone more suitable and he was right, eventually.

 

The hunter, returned from his ordeal under the sea a completely different man, he no longer cared for hunting, but didn’t seem to lack money for it. He was kind to his wife, adored his children and helped everyone in the village. Everyone was very surprised at the change and they could never work it how it happened, the hunter never told a living soul about his encounter with the seal people.

 

The oldest Ferguson brother was gifted a new house along the shore for his family, close to his parents so they could enjoy watching their grandchildren grow up. The wealthy brother who lacked for nothing material fell in love and married within a year and soon had a family of his own. The pirate was able to gain his freedom and no longer live as a fugitive. Such was the power of selkie magic.

 

As for Mr and Mrs Ferguson, they wanted for nothing, and they were happy as they always were, with what they had. They only longed to see their Rona again. Every Midsummer a beautiful shell was placed on their doorstep and one night in the twilight as they were walking arm in arm along the shore they did see two human heads appear briefly out of the water; a woman with long golden hair and man with wild black hair, each with a crown of seaweed. They stared at the Fergusons directly for a moment, smiled and disappeared again into the sea. They both felt glad that Rona was safe and happy.

 

When Mr Ferguson went to tell Rona’s father all that had happened, he was quite taken aback that old Sandy the fisherman was not in the least surprised. ‘She wed the selkie lad then, good for her. She is her father’s daughter after all.’ Was all he said, and smiled knowingly to himself. Mr Ferguson had the distinct impression that Sandy had seen it all before himself.

 

After a few years the old fisherman walked into the sea to join the kin of his late wife.