Inside the Royal Otter, the people of the village were already engaging in the night life. Torches and lanterns were lit throughout, music being played from a small stage. There was raucous drinking and joyful dancing all around her as the villagers laughed and joked with one another. The energy of the room was infectious; Ceara hadn’t even located Agata yet, and she was already grinning from ear to ear. 

Before long, she spotted Agata’s golden curls. She was seated at the bar, engaged in a lively conversation with a small, thin woman. Ceara bounced to Agata, grabbing her shoulders and smiling as Agata turned to see who stood behind her. Agata let out a thrilled squeal, turning to hug Ceara. The smell of a sweet mead rolled off her, and Ceara noticed the rosiness of her cheeks as she released Ceara from the hug. 

“You came! I’m so glad!” she exclaimed. Ceara chuckled to herself; if only she’d had the opportunity in her dream. She smiled at Agata then turned to the woman sat with her. Her stomach tightened, a feeling of danger taking over. The woman gave Ceara an icy stare. Oblivious, Agata began introductions. 

“Ceara, meet Mairin. Mairin, this is Ceara, the girl I told you about whose been helping Gilla.” Mairin and Ceara exchanged a brief nod and handshake. Ceara couldn’t place why her intuition had perked up, but she sat on Agata’s other side, keeping Mairin in the corner of her eye. Agata waved a hand at Daire, who was leaned on the bar, chatting with a man who looked like he’d had the longest possible day in the fields. Daire nodded at Agata, then clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. Ceara couldn’t hear what words were exchanged, but the men laughed heartily at whatever was said, before Daire made his way to her end of the bar. He sauntered over to where Ceara sat, leaning on the bar in front of her with a grin. 

“Glad you could make it,” he said, giving her an appreciative look. “You look beautiful.” Ceara smiled, still hearing Daire’s words from her dream replaying in the background of her mind. 

“We need to get this girl a drink,” interjected Agata, who turned to Ceara, grabbing her arm. “What do you usually drink?” she asked. Ceara shrugged. 

“Bartender’s choice. What do you think I’d enjoy?” she asked Daire. He paused for a moment, then straightened. 

“I think I have just the thing.” He walked away, Ceara’s eyes following the captivating sway of his shoulders. He wore a vest over his white shirt, accentuating the v-shape of his shoulders leading into his waist. Her eyes hungrily traced the lines of his body as he pulled a bottle from under the back counter, pouring her a glass of bubbly golden liquid. He approached, the sweet scent of apples catching Ceara’s attention. He placed the glass in front of her, and she leaned forward to smell it before picking up the glass. 

“What is it?” she asked, sipping the drink. 

“Cyser, or apple mead. Made it myself, actually,” he said, a pleased look of pride on his face. Ceara giggled, taking a longer drink from the glass. “What do you think?” he asked.

The cyser danced over her tongue, somehow the perfect blend of sweet and tart, the apples and honey mingling in a lovely way. She smiled, placing the glass back on the counter. 

“That’s fantastic. Dangerously good, actually.” A broad smile spread over Daire’s face, thrilled by her review. Ceara moved to pull her silver coins from her pouch, but he raised a hand, refusing to accept payment. Daire shook his head.

“Keep your coins. After all my drunken attempts on you, your drinks for the night are on me.” Agata laughed. 

“What about ours?” she asked, gesturing to herself and Mairin. Daire chuckled, before leaning in. 

“Have I been making drunken passes at you as well?” he asked. Agata gave him a suggestive look. 

“Walking around looking as good as you do? You may as well have!” she said, cackling at her own joke. Daire shook his head as he chuckled. He wagged a finger at her, walking away to help another patron. Agata looked to Ceara and shrugged. 

“It was worth a shot!” she said. She stood from her stool, wobbling slightly. She pointed in the direction of the toilets. 

“Time to empty the tank, I think! I’ll be back.” She teetered slightly as she made her way through the crowd. Ceara smirked as she watched Agata joking with people as she passed them, occasionally pausing to enjoy the music until finally getting to her destination. Ceara turned, noticing the steely glare Mairin had focused on her. Mairin picked up her glass, never breaking eye contact as she sipped her drink. Ceara forced a smile, turning to face Mairin. 

“So, where are you from, Mairin?” she asked. There was something familiar about her, her dark hair cut short. There was a scar hidden in Mairin’s hairline, just barely peeking out. 

“Please. Don’t be dense,” said Mairin, scoffing at Ceara’s niceties. “Are you going to out me? Or can I finally stay in one place in peace?” Ceara furrowed her brow, confused. She stared at the woman in front of her; had she met her before? Gazing at her hooked nose and sharp, pointed features, there was some sort of recognition, but Ceara was certain she’d never met her before. Mairin shifted her sleeves up her forearms, revealing more scars, and a faint striping of her skin. To an average human, it may look like an odd tan, but finally, the recognition took over. Mairin was one of the finfolk. Ceara recoiled, standing from her stool.  

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Mairin scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

“I could ask you the same, seal princess.” She stared at Ceara was clear disdain. Ceara took a cautious step back, glancing at the others in the tavern, looking for telltale striping. Mairin shook her head, leaning on the bar and taking a sip of her drink.

“I’m not here with any others. I escaped Réimse Suaite. Every cost I’ve landed on, one of you has driven me out as some dangerous villain,” she said, glaring at Ceara. “I’m not here to do any harm. I certainly don’t care to get mixed up in Selkie bullshit.” Ceara’s grip tightened on her glass. She wasn’t sure if Mairin could be trusted. 

The finfolk had been the biggest predators of the Selkies. They hated the Selkie people with everything in them, adamant on the destruction of Tír Beoga, the Selkie kingdom. Selkie numbers were dwindling these days because of the finfolk. Mairin sighed, then gestured to Ceara’s stool. 

“Can you just sit, please? People are staring.” Ceara looked around, and sure enough, villagers were beginning to quiet, looking at the tense pair of women at the bar. She caught Daire’s eye, who was looking at her with concern. She cautiously sat back on her stool, relaxing her shoulders. One by one, the patrons of the tavern returned to their conversations. 

“What do you mean, you escaped from Réimse Suaite?” she asked. Mairin stared into her glass, swirling the crimson liquid. 

“Unspeakable crimes, and nobody willing to protect me. I left, figured at least I could protect myself better from humans than I could from my own kin.” Ceara peered at the scars littered over Mairin’s skin. She reached out, Mairin recoiling before Ceara’s fingers could brush over the scars. 

“They did that to you?” she asked. Mairin nodded. 

“So, I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to out me? Or can I finally live in peace?” She glared at Ceara. For the first time, Ceara recognized a sadness behind Mairin’s apprehension. 

“If you don’t out me, I have no need to out you,” she said. Mairin visibly relaxed, picking up her wine to sip. She gave Ceara a soft smile. 

“I’m running out of shores to swim to. I can make that deal.” She raised her glass to Ceara, who clinked her own glass of cyser before taking a drink. Ceara caught Daire’s eyes on her again, still concerned. She waved him off, letting him know all was well. He relaxed slightly, then turned to the patron in front of him. They sat in silence for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. It was Mairin who broke the silence.

“So, why did you run from Tír Beoga?” she asked. Ceara grinned, then shook her head. 

“I didn’t. I just couldn’t bear watching our pod being picked off one by one. There are only a few of the noble families left at this point. Makes for a lot of pressure.” Mairin shifted uncomfortably. 

“What you’re saying is you’re an unwilling princess then?” she asked, a smirk growing on her face. Ceara rolled her eyes. 

“Nobility, yes. Princess, no.” Mairin scanned the room, her eyes settling on Daire. She nodded toward him. 

“You gave up your coat for a human man?” she asked. Ceara laughed, shaking her head. 

“No, I’m not strictly terrestrial. I still have responsibilities to the pod, but I tend to spend more time here than Tír Beoga.” Mairin nodded. 

“Good. Because these humans… I don’t know if you’ve listened to their history, but they remind me of home sometimes,” she paused, her eyes darkening slightly. “And not in a sweet, homesick kind of way.” Ceara nodded, understanding. Human history was filled with hatred and conquests against those that they didn’t understand. She’d learned of the horrors that humans had committed against their own; that was largely why the Fairie courts had hidden their presence from humans, preferring the company of their own kind. 

Mairin glanced up into the crowd, then with an amused look nodded behind Ceara. She turned, spotting Agata in the crowd. She was in the center of a circle, flailing and dancing to her hearts content. The women laughed, cheering and whooping. After a minute, Mairin reached out, squeezing Ceara’s wrist. Ceara froze as Mairin leaned in. 

“Before Agata comes back, a word of warning. I’m not the only fin around the village. I may not pose a threat, but I can’t say the same about the others.” Ceara looked at her, confused. 

“How many others?” she asked. Mairin shrugged slightly. 

“I’m not sure, exactly. But I’ve come across at least two, potentially more. Just hold your coat dear, Seal Princess. If I recognized you this quickly, I’m sure others will, too.” Mairin leaned back as Ceara opened her mouth, turning her attention to the drunk, giggling Agata who had returned to her stool. 

Over the course of several drinks, the women bonded more. Agata happily swooped around the tavern, introducing Ceara to as many people as she could. Ceara couldn’t help but to feel conscious of every person she encountered, scouring their skin for the telltale striping of the skin. Every so often Ceara’s stomach would sink, dreading the safety of her coat sitting on it’s own in her yew tree. A few drinks later, she found she wasn’t overly concerned about the finfolk at all; she had only clocked Mairin, and she said there weren’t many around. Chances were, the others weren’t going to be casually hanging out in the tavern with a bunch of humans. After all, the fin were more antisocial than the Selkies. 

Before Ceara knew it, the tavern was beginning to empty, and the band was beginning to pack their instruments away. Agata was barely functioning by that point, so Mairin offered to accompany her back home to Gilla and their sleeping children. Ceara teetered over to Agata’s other side, trying to help support her weight. Mairin gave her an amused glare.

“I think you better stay. I’ve got this.” She gave a slight nod in Daire’s direction, who was tiredly cleaning up behind the bar. Ceara opened her mouth to protest, but Agata drunkenly smacked a finger over Ceara’s mouth, trying to shush her.

“Go get him,” she said, her eyes barely open. “Get him, and ride him. Ride him like a horse!” she shouted as Mairin dragged her toward the door, still shouting. Daire looked up at the commotion with a smirk on his face, chuckling as Agata’s shouting echoed down the path to her home. Ceara shook her head, her face reddening like a bad sunburn. Daire picked up a glass, polishing it with his towel. 

“Ride me like a horse, huh?” he asked, a grin plastered across his face. Ceara played with the fabric of her dress, swaying it slightly as she walked back toward him. 

“That’s what I’ve been ordered to do,” she said, chuckling. Daire’s grin grew wider, setting the glass down on the shelf. He dropped the towel on the counter, resting his elbows on the bar top. His eyes drifted over her body, appreciating every curve. Ceara dropped herself onto a stool, trailing her fingertips of her his hand and arm. 

“I’ll have to take you up on that sometime.” Daire smiled at her, placing a hand over hers. Ceara was taken aback. 

“What do you mean, sometime?” she asked. Daire chuckled, then straightened. 

“When you decide that you want me, you’re going to want to remember every minute. I’m going to need you to be aware of every nerve in your body, every hitch of your breath. I want you fully immersed, not lost in the moment the way you would be now.” Daire’s eyes could set a pot of water boiling with a look, those eyes trained on Ceara. She could feel the heat coming off of her chest, her heart racing. He let out a devilish chuckle as she squirmed in her seat. 

“Besides, it’s my turn to put you in the hot seat. Usually it’s me who goes to bed drunk and horny. I like watching you get all… lusty.” Ceara was speechless. She watched as Daire leaned on the back counter. He worked the buttons of his vest, slipping it off of him, placing it next to him. The buttons of his white shirt were next, slowly opening them to reveal a strong chest and drool-worthy muscle lines. He pulled the tails of his shirt free from where they were tucked into his pants. Ceara’s eyes flicked up from his body, seeing a highly amused, sexy look in Daire’s eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure I would remember sex with you right now,” she said, struggling to keep her eyes off of his body. “I’m certainly going to remember this.” Her teeth dug into her lip as she watched Daire wink at her, before walking around the bar. He extended his hand to her. 

“Come upstairs with me. My place is right above the bar,” he said, gently pulling her forward. Ceara raised an eyebrow, and he waggled a finger at her. “Now, now. Not tonight.” Daire wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her to the stairwell up to his home. Ceara stumbled up the steps, Daire supporting her as they climbed. Once they reached the door, he pushed it open. He swooped his arm behind her legs, scooping Ceara in his arms. She yelped, laughing as he brought her through his kitchen and into his bedroom. He dropped her into the bed, tumbling on top of her as she clung to his shirt. 

They laughed as he collapsed on top of her, doing his best not to hurt her. She reached her hands up to his face, grabbed his beard, and gently tugged his face to hers. Their lips met, and Ceara laced her fingers behind Daire’s neck, pulling him in deeper. She twirled her tongue around his, moaning lightly into his mouth. She could feel his hand gently cup her face before pulling away. The world spun for a moment, Ceara’s vision blurring. 

“Oh… oh no.” Daire’s face shifted immediately from a look of lust, to concern, and then surprise as she pushed him off him, leaning over the edge of the bed. As her drinks from the night splattered onto the stone floor, she could hear Daire chuckling as he left the room. He re-entered with rags and a large bowl. Ceara accepted the bowl quickly, leaning her head into it. 

“I’m-,” she heaved into the bowl as Daire bent down to sop up the liquid, still chuckling. “I’m so sorry.” Ceara heaved again, filling the bottom of the bowl. From the corner of her eye, she could see Daire’s shoulders shift as he gagged a little, then continued to chuckle. He put away the rags, then came back to her to rub her back. 

“Didn’t I say we should wait?” he asked. Ceara shot him a less than impressed glare, heaving once again into the bowl.