by Kenovay
"You did it." Chris frowned in concentration.
"I'm a foot taller than you."
Chris stuck his tongue out. "Give me a hand then, He-Man."
"How? Just jump it."
Chris peered down the scar in the rock. "Don't wanna. It's deep. And the other side slopes. Here, look, you straddle the gap, right?"
"Yeah?" Justin swung one foot over on to the other side, breathing in, and the sharpness of the air hit his lungs.
"You steady?" Justin shifted his feet a little and nodded. "Not gonna slip? Right, so help me over."
"Oh, I see." Justin grabbed Chris' hand firmly. "I'll stabilise you when you land. Go on then, jump."
Chris jumped, and landed, slipping a little. Justin pushed him upwards, hard, and he landed on his knees. "Fucker," he muttered at the rock pool one of his knees was in. "Have you never helped someone jump a gap before?"
Justin brought his foot across again. "Um. No." He grasped one of Chris' hands and pulled him to his feet.
"What kind of a childhood must you have had?" Chris shook his head sadly. "Shit, J. Look." Justin winced at the sodden state of Chris' jeans.
"Sorry."
"Oh well. It's all a learning curve. Come on then, let's find a rock to sit on."
"Chris�" Justin followed him dutifully, stepping delicately from rock to rock. "Why are we doing this again?"
"Because this is one of the best experiences Scotland has to offer." Chris grinned at him. "Having the waves spray right over you and watching the seals."
"But we're gonna get wet."
"Speak for yourself. I'm wet already."
"Yeah�" Justin patted his jeans nervously. "How about I sit a bit higher up and get the looking-at-the-seals experience, and you can go get the sea-spray experience?"
Chris made a face. "Wimp. You can see the seals from the beach. Now we've come out here, we might as well do it properly."
Justin sighed. "If you sing to the seals."
"Piss off."
Justin grinned. "There we go. I'll get the fullest experience if it's accompanied by traditional Scottish melodies."
Chris grimaced. "I'll sing, if you keep quiet. Not a word." Justin opened his mouth to respond, and Chris held up a finger. "And if I hear anything along the lines of insults to my masculinity, I'll push you in."
Justin shut his mouth and nodded. He followed Chris down to an outcrop of rock. "Here we go. It's quite high - we'll only get sprayed every ninth wave."
"Ninth wave?"
"Ninth is always the biggest."
Chris spread his coat and plopped down, looking up expectantly at Justin. Justin pursed his mouth. "What do I sit on?"
"Your jack - oh, you're wearing the leather. Because you're a moron. Come on then, there's room." He wriggled sideways, and patted the small amount of coat that was revealed. Justin resigned himself to his fate, and slumped gracefully down.
"Go on then, sing." He looked around. He had to admit, it was very impressive. The waves below them crashed into the base of their outcrop and hurled themselves up. "Where're the seals?"
Chris pointed silently. Justin squinted, and saw three dark heads floating in the waves. "Oh. Wow. They'll come closer if you sing, right?"
Chris' voice was quiet. "Supposedly."
"Yeah. Go on then."
There was a pause, and Justin was about to ask again, before Chris started to sing tentatively. "Speed - bonny boat, like a bird - on the wing." For once, Justin didn't feel obliged to ask whether he was sure that his balls had dropped. The soaring voice fitted the scene, the greyness of the water and the fine spray landing on them every so often and the clearness of the air. Chris' voice began to firm. "Onward the sailors cry. Carry the lad, who's born to be king. Over the sea to Skye." He took a breath.
"Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar. Thunderclaps rend the air. Baffled our foes, stand on the shore. Follow they do not dare."
"Chris." Justin kept his voice low. "Chris, they're coming closer. Keep singing."
"Many a lad, fought on that day, well the claymore could wield. When the night came, silently lay. Dead on Culloden's Field."
The seals really were coming closer: Justin could make out the large eyes. He was entranced. "Speed, bonny boat, like a bird on the wing. Onward the sailors cry. Carry the lad, who's born to be king. Over the sea to Skye."
"Chris, they look like humans. Like� are they where the stories about merpeople come from?" Chris nodded. "Don't stop!"
"Though the waves leap, soft shall he sleep. Ocean's a royal bed. Rocked in the deep, Flora shall keep, watch by your weary head. Speed, bonny boat, like a bird on the wing. Onward the sailors cry. Carry the lad, who's born to be king. Over the sea to Skye." He paused for a breath.
"Keep going!" Justin said, his eyes fixed on the seal heads.
"There's only one more verse." Chris shrugged. "Burned are our homes, exile and death, scattered the loyal men. Yet 'ere the sword, cool in the sheath, Charlie will come again."
"Oh God, Chris. They're�"
"Closer than I've ever seen them" Chris looked almost childlike, his lips parted, his eyes shining. "Jesus, Justin. They're coming onto the beach!"
As the seals got nearer, they started to seem taller, and more human, until they looked as tall as Justin. Justin frowned. "They aren't� supposed to be that big."
Chris shook his head sharply. "Don't. Move."
Justin turned back to the beach, and gasped softly in shock. The seals were� pulling off their skin? They� what? "Chris?"
"Selchies." The word sounded harsh and foreign to Justin, the 'ch' guttural.
"What?"
"Seal-men. Oh, my God." Suddenly Chris was scrambling to his feet, tipping Justin off his coat. "They're coming towards us."
"Chris, what the hell? Why are we running?"
"Fucking look at them, J." Justin looked. Broad, tightly muscled shoulders. Grey-blue skin. Wild hair. Sharp, sharp� teeth. They were wading up to their necks in water, leaving their seal-skins on the beach.
"Oh." He hurried over the rocks to Chris and they stumbled together over the rocks. Until they reached the crevice. "Shit." Chris jigged on his feet, his face creased. "Don't overbalance me this time."
"Yeah." Justin straddled the gap again, and hauled Chris across. And lost his grip.
Chris landed awkwardly on his feet, and his face twisted with pain. "Fuck, Justin!"
"Oh, oh shit! Chris!" Justin knelt down beside Chris.
"I've fucking twisted it. Fucking typical."
Justin craned back to see the seal-men advancing over the rocks. They were too close. And Christ, their teeth were sharp. And white, and displayed rather convincingly by their wide, rather unfriendly grins. "Chris�"
"Yeah. This is where I tell you to keep going. Your mother would kill me."
Justin shook his head. "Dipshit. Fuck, this is my fault."
"Aye," Chris agreed shortly, and poked at his ankle. The seal-men shouted, and Chris' eyes widened. "Gaelic?"
"You understand it?"
"Fuck, no. It's an insane language. And you think they speak it in Glasgow?" He scooted himself around, so he was facing the approaching seal-men. "We don't have the Gaelic," he called, spreading his hands and tugging on Justin's trouser-leg. "Sit down, fucktard. You're too threatening."
"Threatening?" Justin murmured, but sat down very quickly as the seal-men approached. They hadn't become any less terrifying.
"I don't think they understood me." Chris was trembling, Justin noted. "Cha - is it cha? Fuck, I think it's cha - G�idhlig."
"G�idhlig?" The thinnest seal-man was speaking. His eyes were blue and shrewd, scanning the two terrified men.
Chris nodded. "You said you didn't understand it," Justin hissed.
"I fucking don't," Chris muttered. "Not any more than a few words."
"You do not have the Gaelic?" The seal-man's accent was thick, thicker than the Scottish accents Justin was used to.
"Not more than a touch," Chris said hesitantly.
"But you have the� English?" Chris nodded. "Why English, not G�idhlig? You are not Albannach?"
"I'm from Glasgow. Glasgow?" Chris' foot was jumping rhythmically, a sure sign of his tension.
"Glaschu? Alba?"
"Aye." Chris nodded. "Alba."
"What's Al-ba?" Justin asked.
"Scotland."
The seal-men had stiffened as they heard Justin's voice. "Thu not Alba." They moved in a little.
Chris tensed. "America. America?"
"Gaidhealtachd?" One of the other seal-men spoke. His voice was deep and menacing, and he looked the most unfriendly of the three.
Chris frowned. "What?"
"He� Am-er-i-ka is Gaeldom? He is Gael?" The seal-man who seemed to know some English jabbed a finger at Justin.
"Shit," Chris muttered. "Um. Aye. Gael."
Justin nodded frantically. "He has G�idhlig?" Chris shook his head. "But Gaidheal?"
"Aye."
The seal-man frowned, and turned to say something to the other two in a low voice. When he turned back, he was nodding. "Thu� ankle? Hurt? We - he will� cuideadh." The largest seal-man started forwards, but Chris moved back, and Justin instinctively moved in front of him. The selchie frowned. "Cuideadh," he repeated. "Ankle."
Chris shook his head firmly. "Not touching my ankle." Justin folded his arms, and attempted to stare the sea-creature down.
The seal-man shook his head, annoyed, and then shrugged. "Glaschu," he muttered, and then placed a hand on his chest. "Jaysi," he said solemnly. He placed a hand on the unfriendly seal-man's shoulder. "L�ns." Finally he deliberately placed his other hand on the large selchie's shoulder. "Joi." He indicated them all with a sweep of his hand. "Teaghlach seinn."
Chris nodded. "Chris." He touched Justin's shoulder. "Justin. Cha teaghlach."
"What did you say?"
"Not family. I think. I think he was telling us they're a family. Or a tribe. Or something." Chris shook his head sharply. "How should I know? I don't know selchie protocol!"
Jaysi reached forward, but shrugged when Chris drew back. "Thu - you� singing?"
"Aye?" Chris looked wary.
The selchie nodded. "Thug thu," the unfriendly one said, his voice cold.
"What?" Justin asked, his voice a little panicked. He didn't like L�ns.
"Called? You? You called."
Chris frowned. "The singing?" The three seal-men nodded. "Um. Sorry?"
Jaysi nodded. "You� must� cha. Not. You cannot."
"Why?" Jaysi looked blank. "Um. Carson?"
"We� it�" Jaysi waved his hands, and looked frustrated. "Cath seinn?" Chris' brow wrinkled, then he shook his head apologetically. "Singing�" Jaysi looked at a loss, then suddenly his eyes widened. "Look." He turned and grabbed Joi by the arm, and spoke to him urgently in Gaelic. Joi nodded. "Look," Jaysi repeated urgently, and mimed stabbing Joi, who groaned theatrically and fell to the ground in a protracted scene of agony. When he lay still, one eye opened and winked at Justin who jolted, surprised.
Chris was frowning. "Cath� fight?" Jaysi nodded enthusiastically. "Oh!" Chris suddenly said. "It's their war-cry!"
Justin smiled hesitantly. "Fuck, Chris, they thought you were attacking them. No wonder they looked so� shark-like." He shifted uncomfortably. "Right, now that's settled. Can we get the fuck away? They scare me." Joi said something in a warm voice. Jaysi laughed. Even L�ns grinned. "And they're laughing at me behind my back."
Chris grinned. Now that the problem seemed solved, he was back to cheerfulness. "Well, dammit, I got you a proper Scottish experience. Selchies, for God's sake!"
Justin shivered. "Chris, please. They have teeth."
Chris sobered immediately. "Hang in, J." He turned back to the selchies. "Um. Falbh? Shit, is that the right word?" He waved his hand towards Justin, who was aware that he looked miserable.
"Falbh?" Joi said. He looked concerned. Chris nodded. L�ns snorted, and muttered something. Joi retorted sharply. Jaysi just regarded the two men gravely, his eyes boring into them.
Justin winced as L�ns, safely out of Jaysi and Joi's view, bared his teeth at him. There were� a lot of them. Fuck, they were in a double row. Jesus Christ. They were sharks. Chris put one warm hand comfortingly on his arm, and stared back at Jaysi.
Jaysi's face suddenly crinkled into a wide smile. He nodded. "You fare well," he said softly.
Chris nodded. "Agus sibh," he said.
Jaysi barked something, and he and Joi trod delicately towards the water. L�ns lingered, still grinning his shark-like grin. Justin pressed towards Chris. "L�ns!" came a sharp call from the water, where the two older selchies were standing expectantly. "Is aithne dhomh!" the seal-man called, then regarded Justin gravely. "Gaidheal," he said solemnly. "America is not Gaidhealtachd. But you are a gaidheal."
"You speak English?" Chris blinked. L�ns bared his teeth again.
"No," he said. "Try not to make any more war-cries, aye?"
Before Chris or Justin could answer, he turned and hurried towards the water, joining the other two selchies. "He called me a gach-ee-al," Justin said.
"Gaidheal," Chris corrected. "Aye. Fuck, all I got was an insult."
"What insult?"
"You didn't hear him mutter 'Glaschu'? Bloody Highlanders, all think they're better than us. Even the non-human ones, apparently."
Justin grinned. "They were fucking scary, though."
"Aye." Chris nodded. "Bloody double rows of teeth, as I'm sure you noticed."
"Yeah." Justin hoisted himself up, and dusted himself off, then suddenly stilled. "Chris, how the fuck are we getting you across these rocks again?"
Chris blinked, and slowly grinned. "You're carrying me, gaidheal."
"Fuck's sake." Justin scrubbed a hand acroos his face. "And for someone who doesn't speak Gaelic, you're throwing it around pretty freely now."
"Well," Chris shrugged. "Amazing what comes back to you." He held his arms up to Justin. "Come on, you big strong sexy Gael. Carry me."
