Page 54 of The Rake OR The Orca Who Met His Match in a Selkie Desiring Revenge

Though colloquially the selkies treat the bond as if it is a class two bilateral influencing bond, testing indicates there is no evidence for such. Assigning this level of importance, especially in a romantic context, is often found in remote societies, where great care must go into selecting a partner, especially those without the concept of divorce. Contentious matings are always difficult in small towns, but the perpetuation of the myth of a binding that influences one's feelings serves to impart additional gravitas onto entering such a relationship. In reality, the effects of the binding seem two-fold. First, the bond allows the bonder to influence the bonded's actions, in that they can compel through direct order. Second, the bond compels both parties to be in physical proximity of one another, perhaps so the binder cannot abscond and leave the bonded with the inability to shift.

1. Aebleskivers are a traditional breakfast in Sanctuary, a kind of small, spherical pancake that is cooked in a cast iron pan and filled with fruit. Turning them takes a good deal of practice, so I usually let my husband make them.

Chapter seventeen

Elspeth

IN WHICH DISAPPOINTMENT DOESN’T FEEL SO DISAPPOINTING

Class five binding.

Additional gravitas.

Only two ways.

Elspeth blinked at the page, struggling to comprehend what she'd read.Object-limited unilateral influencing bond.Words swirled around her head making her feel like she was spinning in circles.

It was silent in their cubby for a long while. Aegir's heat next to her permeated her clothing. Her throat felt as if it were being squeezed. Abruptly, she closed the book and snatched the next, the first of the two responses. Once more, they found the term "selkie" in the index and located the page.

As Nasstrom's primary sources for selkie bindings were off the Western coast, she originally questioned their validity for any other settlement of selkies. Perhaps she'd overestimated the importance of proximity. However, I was able to live with a settlement of selkie in the north-eastern ocean, and found it to be true, though I propose a modification of Nasstrom's original theory. Indeed, effect does seem to be limited to two types, and I concur on the first. However, my time among the people of Hillskerry has given me additional insight into the second of these properties.

While there, I eventually met an elderly couple who had both bound one another. He was a fisherman and had gotten lost at sea for over two weeks at one point. During that time, both were able to shift freely for the first three days. Beyond that, however, though I am unsure if it was tie or proximity, each was stuck in their most recent form. For the wife, this meant that she was awkwardly stuck in her selkie form until her husband was recovered, though he had not, he claimed, influenced her shift. Indeed, after that same time, he could not shift to his seal form until he returned to her. Both partners retained access to their pelts and I've been assured that in order to limit the shift, one must be in physical proximity.

I postulate, therefore, that upon the initiation of the binding, the blood of the binder essentially introduces an additional "step" in the connectionbetween a selkie and their pelt. The binder acts as a "bridge" facilitating the shift, and both time and proximity seem to affect how easily this divide can be closed without the binder. Imagine, if you will, a selkie and their pelt on opposite sides of a body of water. Prior to the binding, the body of water is so small that they can simply swim over to reach their pelt, and subsequently, their shift. After a binding, it is as if there is only a single crossing that must be used in order to access the other bank, their binder. Time and proximity determine the width of the river, and so when their binder is gone for too long or too far away, they cannot access the other bank, no matter how they may try.

Finally, I would like to propose a third effect of the binding, though, like Nasstrom, this is based only on one settlement of selkies. Multiple bond owners reported an increased attachment at the beginning of their bond that surpassed their prior feelings but that faded after a few days, reportedly between three and five. After that period, all couples reported that their emotional state returned to comparable to prior to their bonding. Because all bonds surveyed were bi-directional, where each party bonded the other, it’s currently impossible to know if the bond affects both the bonded andbonder or just one party1.

Elspeth sat back in her chair. She'd hoped, somehow, that the second book would give better answers. Instead, it had confused her even more. The bondhadaffected her, but the effects had likely worn off over a week prior? Or perhaps it had only affected Aegir, and not her at all? Regardless, neither of them were affected now, nor would Feann be. It was a relief, if a confusing one, at that.

Next to her, Aegir flipped through the first book, scanning pages. "What are you looking for?" she asked.

"I'm trying to see if it has anything about breaking bonds," he said offhandedly.

"Oh." It shouldn't have hurt as badly as it did. She'd barely even thought through the implications of what she'd read and he was already looking for a way to break it? Wasn't it enough that everything she'd known was a lie? Wasn't it enough that the magical bond she'd idealized her entire life was nothing more than a string forcing two people together, forcing her to obey him? Wasn't it enough that—that—

Wasn'tsheenough? Blinking back tears, she did her best to control her voice. "Have you found anything?"

"Not yet," he said, eyes flying across the page.

Though she satin the library, in Berggeheimnis, Elspeth was adrift on sea ice. She floated the ocean, just like her father, waiting for a predator to come put her out of her misery. Perhaps, now that she was nothing but an anchor, Aegir would do the job himself. Perhaps, when he realized how much she'd lied to him, through no intent of her own, he'd decide he'd had enough of it. He'd upended his entire life, and for what? He'd chased her through the ocean, compelled to be a bridge between her and her pelt, because of a single drop of blood.

It seemed he'd had enough of her, and could she blame him? Surely his feelings had been driven by suggestion. It was clear he was a randy fellow already, and so it wasn't a wonder that it had combined with the pull of the bond in how it had. That he'd believe her when she said that it was the bond creating the attraction... but now? Now, he knew. And perhaps, he still felt the same, but it was only because she was, as of yet, unattainable.

Her... affliction made her tantalizing, especially for someone who loved the chase. If and when he caught her, though, the appeal would wane, and he'd see. He'd resent her then, as perhaps he always should have, as she'd tied them together, with seemingly no benefit to either. She'd blamed him, but she held him captive just as surely.

"Damn," he muttered, lowering his head to the table.

"Nothing?"

"There is, it just seems impossible." Aegir raised his head and read from the book. "‘Bonds have, by all known accounts, only ever been broken by the destruction of the material that created the bond. For example, for those created by a binding of rope, the destruction of the rope would serve to sever the bond.' It talks about it more, but the general idea is that our bond is in my blood, so it sounds like unless I die, we are stuck with it."

Something about that didn't seem quite right to Elspeth. If he, or rather his blood, served as a bridge between her and her pelt...

"Unless your blood were to change..." she whispered.

"Elspeth! You're a genius!" Aegir hugged her and kissed the top of her head. He squeezed her to his side, ignorant of the storm that raged within her.

She'd wanted answers. She'd wanted to know about their bond. She'd thought that the answers would give herpeace.