Fingers tapping atop her desk, Eilidh's eyes wandered beyond the glass of her window, awaiting the inevitable piping up of the day's student, though it never arose, to her surprise. She reached for her mug, not adjusting her glance as she took a swig of coffee, its bitterness hardly fazing her, before returning it, now growing curious."

"Julia?" she inquired suddenly, the girl sitting at the desk opposite hers jumping in surprise as her head whipped up to meet hers.

"Y- Yes?!"

Checking herself, Eilidh shrugged, "Nothing, just- You're usually more- animated, I suppose. It's not usually a good sign when students remain quiet for a long period of time."

"I was just concentrating, is all."

"Concentrating, or avoiding asking for help?"

Julia's eyes fell into slits, in time with a rather droll expression, "I don't need your help, if that's what you're implying, Ms. Stewart." The teenage girl frowned. "Had I not known better, I'd think you were the one bored."

Scoffing, Eilidh rolled her eyes, grabbing her mug and nursing it atop her chest between both hands, "You may return to your work. You know I hate to discourage such spirited confrontation, even if it's directed at me."

Grinning slightly, Julia raised her sheet of parchment paper, "I'm done."

Leaning forward, Eilidh examined her work, rather impressed in her nod, "Well, I shouldn't be surprised. You're one of my brighter pupils."

"Well, thank you. Does that mean you can tell me another Highland tale?"

"Oh gods," the teacher groaned, her head dropping back over her shoulders, "There's a motive ulterior for all things, isn't there?" She took the parchment, looking over it more meticulously now, her voice nearly pithy. "Again, I shouldn't be surprised..." She studied the work, muttering lowly. "You know, your parents would rather I not spread such tales."

Julia frowned, "Oh, please, they're just being obstinate."

"They're also helping pay me to live out here where I'm most comfortable," Eilidh glanced overtop the page of parchment, frowning, "An enterprising family of Glasgow- you ought to be more interested in other things than old stories that aren't even true. Textile work, for example."

"Firearms?"

Eilidh rubbed a hand over her face, "One time I leave that thing out for you to-"

"What if I want to be a teacher, like you? I should know the local stories and folklore, shouldn't I? There's value in sharing that with the younger folk? It's not just stories, it's your identity, it's-"

"It's just stories-" Eilidh frowned, "And, if I had any advice for you as a teacher, it would be to not follow in my footsteps, young Julia. There are reasons why I live out here that, gods willing, you don't ever have to find out on your own. You ought to stay in Glasgow, find a fine husband, and, I don't know- do what it is married women of the city do."

Julia watched her, curiosity turning to worry, "And what is that, exactly?"

"I don't know; I would ask your mother," sighed the teacher, dropping the parchment onto her desk before crossing her arms, "I do know that I've missed out on a lot by living the life of a hermit out here, and I wouldn't wish that on anybody, much less a woman of such promise as you. You've a wonderful mind, Julia; the world ought to know of it. They aren't calling it the Scottish Enlightenment for nothing."

Frowning, almost perturbed by her instructor's self-deprecation, Julia fired back, "What about your mind?"

"Julia," Eilidh's voice was low, stern in the way that made the student's nerves buckle, "I don't want anything else on this."

She returned to the parchment, returning her attention to it as she shared her grasp between it and her mug of coffee, "Now, if you'll allow me the chance to-"

"You already know it's immaculate work."

"Okay, first, I don't know that. Second," scowled Eilidh as she forced reproach, "Assuming it were, what do you hope to accomplish in the span of time between now and your leave?"

Julia shrugged, leaning over the desk and resting the side of her head atop her hand, staring out the window, "I'm not sure. I guess we can just stare out the window."

Her stare unwavering, Eilidh's voice returned, low, "You think me a fool."

"I think you impatient," Julia smirked, "and not want of sitting still."

Eilidh sighed, dropping her hand to her desk, "Fine. Your work is perfect. I suppose you want due congratulations in the form of a story?"

"It's the reason I show up with a smile and my brain on every week," smiled the student with a perfect, if not somewhat sinister smile.

Eilidh's face was dry, as was her voice, "Wonderful..." She sighed, clearing her desk. "Why are you so enamored by these tales, anyway? You've much more interesting things to spend your time on, I'd have to think."

"Such as?"

"Economics," Eilidh shrugged, having thrown out something random, "I don't know; it seems as good as anything else."

Julia smiled fondly, glancing once more out the window, "I don't know. It's just- quite nice. They didn't have stories like these back home. It makes me feel more like I belong here, I guess."

"Well," sighed Eilidh, "I did nothing but bear the weight of being born here. You and your family made it a mission to brave whatever horrors to make this your home; whether or not you wear these stories, I fail to see where my weight qualifies me while yours doesn't. If anything, you've done more than I've ever done to make this your home."

Julia smiled weakly, almost fondly, as though pulling her lips from somewhere far off and distant, "Thank you, Ms. Stewart. That- means a lot."

"Well, don't get weird now," groaned the teacher, earning her a giggle from her student.

"I'll stop if you tell me a story."

"I already said I would, so-" sighed Eilidh, resting back in her seat, "Alright. What, do you want a historical story that will actually be of use to you? or something more mythological, which I'm sure you'll-"

"That one!"

Eilidh frowned, "Are you sure you don't want to hear about-"

"Myths and legends, please."

The teacher fell deeper into her chair, "Alright, alright. Kelpies?"

"That was last time."

"The Blue Men of the Minch?"

"Already heard of them."

Sighing, Eilidh muttered, "What about-"

"Selkies!"

The teacher's brow furrowed, "Why selkies?"

Julia shrugged, "I don't know. They just sound cool and interesting."

"Interesting, maybe, but cool, I-" Eilidh's brow curled in thought, "They live a tragic existence. Trapped between two worlds, oftentimes. Caught between lives in the rivers and lochs, and ones upon the land; usually, their stories are ones of being taken advantage of - men stealing their pelts while they're transformed and forcing their companionship, but- I'd like to think some of them choose a life upon the land, though-"

Her eyes darkened, as though her attention had been drawn elsewhere, "I wonder if even they don't pine, deep down, to return to the waters of their home. No matter how much they protest."

Julia's face had twisted in concern, having watched her teacher's expression darken into something rather nostalgic and crestfallen, her voice carefully rising up as though to help her back to reality, "But they do shape-shift?"

"So they say," Eilidh nodded, returning to the room, becoming animated once more as she returned to her coffee for a sip, "-but, again, it's just myths and legends. Who's to say whether they actually turn to sea otters or seals."

"And they're beautiful creatures, aren't they?" Julia inquired, as though going down a checklist she had found in some book from her personal library, "That's how they tempt such great men?"

Eilidh held her lips against her mug, concealing her eyes as they wandered off. Beautiful? Perhaps so. Tempting to men? well... For the fairer sex, surely, she was of a far stronger ilk to resist such wiles, she figured.

"Well, you know men," sighed Eilidh, sitting her mug down, "If a statue even looks like a woman, they'll give it a name, a story, and personify it such to tantalize the senses. Where do you suppose most myths come from?"

Julia's brow rose in critique, "I thought, honestly, from ancient women storytellers, passing down stories from mother to daughter."

"Perhaps you have a point," conceded Eilidh as she crossed her arms, "I don't know what ancient woman would look at a river and sit and dream of-" She paused, shaking her head. "That's beside the point. Selkies are sea creatures who shape-shift, and much like me, you don't want to aspire to be one, I assure you."

"I never said that I-"

"Look at the time! Your manservant will be arriving soon to fetch you," Eilidh rose to her feet, "It was a joy, as always, Julia."

The student's brow tensed, concerned, "But there's still ten-"

"Come along. You know Harrington does like to be a bit early."

Eilidh hurried to the front door of her cottage, swinging it open to reveal a man in spiffy dress, standing a ways away with his hands in his pockets, staring out into the distance. The sound of the door caught his attention, causing him to pull a watch from his pocket, glancing up toward Eilidh.

"Lady Stewart," he bowed his head politely, "She's early."

Nodding, Eilidh explained, "Quite so. You can tell her parents that she, once again, has excelled on the topic I've introduced to her. They should be very proud, and I'll have my work cut out for me challenging her, but I will do my best to ensure their investment remains put to good use." She turned to find Julia approaching her from behind, reaching back to guide the student past her and toward the manservant. "She is such a promising young lady; of that, I can assure them, both."

The man nodded, turning to Julia, "The carriage is awaiting us at the bottom of the hill." Returning to Eilidh with a bow. "The Sir and Lady Berengar extend their thanks, once again, for your services."

He reached into his pocket, retrieving a satchel of coin that he handed to Eilidh, which she took with a bow of her own.

"It's my pleasure to assist such a dutiful student," she happily reported, turning to Julia, "Keep to those exercises we discussed."

Julia managed a disapproving glance, frowning with irritation at the suddenness of her leave, before setting off, the manservant bowing his leave before following after her. Eilidh watched the two, allowing them a fair distance before stepping back inside, latching her door shut. She let out a deep, heavy sigh, resting her forehead against the door. She shut her eyes, trying her best to clear her mind, but finding herself unable to do so.

Not with her there...

Eilidh turned around, stepping deeper into her cottage. Despite being alone, she stepped almost cautiously, keeping her eyes to either side, as if expecting, at any point, for somebody to peek in at her, despite her deliberate settling well out beyond any settlement. It was the very thing she had come this far away from Glasgow to avoid, and yet, she hadn't felt as paranoid as she had these last few weeks. She crossed the threshold into her room, stepping toward her closet before gently taking the sliding door, carefully pulling it free and-

There, lying on the ground, was a woman, lost in sleep. Curled up on her side, knees pulled up to her chest beneath a blanket that had been pulled and gathered in her hands just below her chin, she slept there, rather contentedly, it seemed, by Eilidh's estimation. Her brow dropped, not so much in worry, but to cover the blush that threatened to turn her entire face crimson as the events of the day prior ran across her mind. Up until this, she had always looked at this- woman as a whole, but, after yesterday-

"You can come out now," she spoke quietly, just enough to rouse the woman from her shallow sleep.

Her eyes jumped up toward Eilidh, shivering as her face turned away, clearly embarrassed herself, though her host turned to offer her some relief, lowering her head to her chest and raising a hand to scratch her scalp.

"Don't worry, I'll-" Eilidh muttered, "I'll be over here."

She shuffled out of the bedroom back out into the main living area of the cottage, nervously eying her mug before going to retrieving it. As if to busy herself, both in body and mind, she made for her small kitchen, readying her French press before grabbing a kettle to boil some water, breathing heavily as she moved, turning around toward the fire only to-

“Córu!" she jumped back, the visitor standing there in her mismatched clothes, an assorted design and style all from Eilidh's own personal wardrobe, "You gave me a fright!"

"S-"

Eilidh's face widened.

"Sorry..."

Her hand lost all control, the mug there falling and shattering to the floor.

Did she just... speak?