Upwards and Onwards

26 October 2000; Loch Tay Regional Combined School; near Killin, Stirling, Scotland, UK
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Under grey skies and heavy quilts, Ken, Murron, Tobi, and Mattia huddle in the crowd beside the rugby pitch as two teams of mud monsters run and holler and the game clock counts down.
Murron shrieks something in French.
Dreamboy lifts his head from Ken's lap, whines.
Aurelie-probably waves, yells back in the same language.
Murron bounces and claps, sending the blanket oozing from their shoulders.
Ken tugs it back into place.
Dreamboy woofs, annoyed.
"Sorry, boy," mumbles Ken.
The dog huffs.
"Murron, do you wish you were out there?" asks Mattia, leaning around Ken.
"You've got the strength for it," adds Tobi from Murron's other side.
Murron shakes her head. "I don't want to be held down." She shivers, presses tightly to Ken's side.
Ken wraps an arm around her middle, rests his head against hers.
"What about you?" Murron nudges Ken's ribs.
"Huh?"
"Have you ever wanted to play rugby?"
"Not since I was I was wee thing. Don't really have the build for it." Ken laughs weakly. "All knees and elbows and no hand-eye coordination."
"I like your shapes, though."
Ken blushes. "I'm glad, but neither of them's real good for rugby."
Murron concedes with a head tilt.
"I, uh, like your shape, t-too."
She melts against him, nuzzles his cheek.
Ken lets himself sink into the warm, fizzy feeling filling his chest.
Dreamboy sighs with force, worms further into Ken's lap.
"Aww ... you two are the most sweetest I have ever seen! I want to be in love like you someday!" cheers Mattia.
"Maybe you need to look for a selkie," suggests Tobi.
"Maybe you have a younger sister for me?"
"Only older brothers, sorry, and they're all married and moved to Greenland."
Mattia makes a sad noise.
Tobi giggles.
"What is so funny?"
"There are plenty of other selkies in the sea, yes?"
"That's /terrible," grumps Mattia, "and none of them are like Murron and she is very spoken for."
"Exactly right," agrees Murron, snuggling even closer to Ken.
Candy floss pushes all his thoughts out his ears as rugby players tumble across his field of vision.
A wall of red fabric eclipses them.
"Lessie! You made it!"
"Yea, sorry. Meeting ran overtime." She flows to sitting on the edge of the blanket next to Tobi, arranges her hems.
"Hard to picture you in a meeting you're not running."
Lessie snorts a laugh.
A whistle shrills; an answering cheer goes up from the crowd.
Ken joins in with applause.
Two columns of soil golems exchange handshakes, then four peel off and head over.
Dreamboy stands, wags happily at them.
"Congratulations~!" sing Murron and Mattia.
"Good game," adds Tobi.
"Thank you most kindly," drawls the biggest of them with Royal's voice.
The others—which seem to be Aurelie, Ross, and Nicole—preen.
"You looked /brilliant out there!"
Tobi nods. "Your best game yet."
"I cannot wait to see you crush Callander," chirps Mattia.
"And I can't wait to do the crushing," says Aurelie. "We owe them from last year."
"That we do," agrees Royal. "You lot going to meet us for dinner?"
"'course," says Lessie.
"Awesome." Royal beckons his muddy buddies, sets off along the path for the school buildings. "Let's hit the showers."
"Onwards!" cheers Nicole.
"And upwards!" adds Ross.
"Everything's on the first floor!" calls Murron.
"We know~!" hollers Aurelie.
"Then what—"
"It's a cliché!"
Murron huffs.
"Should we get going, too?" prompts Lessie.
"Yea." Ken heaves himself to his feet, offers a hand up to Murron.
She accepts, resettles the quilt around her shoulders.
Ken bundles the sitting blanket from the grass under his arm, strolls them along the path, not-quite-listening to the small talk the rest of them use to fill the time.
Dreamboy pants along beside him.
Ken Reaches, prods around the edges of the furry mind-space between Dreamboy's ears, teases—
Dreamboy woofs, sprints into the trees.
"Must've seen a squirrel," says Lessie.
"Yea. A squirrel." Ken rubs his temple.
"They're /extra fat this year," says Murron.
"Which means the winter will be /extra cold," adds Tobi.
Mattia whines.
They come out of trees, go through the gatehouse, across the first walkway, the Pentagon, and another walkway, on inside, shedding their coats in the foyer, and up to the club lounge.
The Space Cadet's already there, sticking spoons pinched from the Big Hall to the growing collection on the wall.
"Edan, Mister Fairbairn /and Miss Greenshields both said to stop giving it more metal," scolds Tobi.
"But I want to see it turn into a black hole," whines the Space Cadet.
"They don't actually do that," says Lessie.
"There's perfectly good science says it's possible!"
Lessie rolls her eyes. "It's a probably just a dragon, not something out of science fiction."
"It's /magnetism and that's /science." The Space Cadet glares defiance, lets the wall yank another spoon out of his hand.
"Edan, seriously, stop," says Ken. "One of the MacIvers's supposed to come and get it out today."
"I need more spoons!" The Space Cadet runs—
Murron lunges, tackles him to the floor. "No more metal!"
"But—black holes!"
"Not in our club wall!"
Ken and Lessie sigh together.
"So ... nothing much's changed since I left," says Lessie, claiming a spot at the table.
"Nope," agrees Ken, plunking down beside her. "What've you been up to?"
"The same boring shit, honestly. Meetings, paperwork, /more meetings, /more paperwork." She huffs. "At least the Blue Bloods're /finally letting me do strolls with them."
"Sounds exciting."
"Who're they?" calls Tobi.
"Sort of a neighbourhood watch for magical folks in the city. They keep us safe when the police can't or won't."
"By kicking the shit out of people," points out Ken.
"Only when they have to," sniffs Lessie. "Sometimes it takes a kick in the head to get a message through some folks' skulls."
"Sometimes it takes even more than that," grumps Murron, pulling up a chair next to Ken's. "Did I tell you what Aleck Scobie said yesterday?"
"He can't graduate soon enough for me," adds Ken.
Lessie raises an eyebrow. "Yea, so he can be /my problem again instead of yours."
"Pretty much. /You could actually shut him up. Us? Not so much."
"You used to be able to make him back down. What happened?"
"He's figured out Ken's too nice to actually hit him."
"Oh, really."
Ken forces his shoulders down. "I'm not going to feed the stereotype of werewolves being violent."
"So you'll let the most bigoted bell-end at school get away with spreading hate and lies and ignorance."
"I'm /still not a fighter, Lessie." 
Her expression goes sharp. "There /is a way—"
A knock at the open door.
Ken startles, glances over.
A young-ish, kinda familiar bloke with the blond hair, outdoorsy tan, and shoulder-riding dragon of MacIver rocks on his heels in the entry, a basket over his arm.
"'ey, Innes," greets Lessie, waving. "Your da finally letting you work on your own?"
"Afternoon!" Innes saunters in. "This's my first solo flight, come to mention it."
"It's about time."
"No doubt. The sticky situation's in here?"
"What a pretty dragon!" breathes Murron.
The black and red breezer puffs out its chest, runs a clawed forepaw over its head, trills.
"Don't say that too loud or it'll go /straight to his head," laughs Innes.
"What's his name?"
"Punky. Would you like to keep him busy while I work?"
"Yes!" Murron reaches—
Innes eases the dragon into her arms. "Keep hold of his lead and don't let him near the snacks, alright?"
Murron cuddles Punky close like he was a cat, pads over to Tobi and Mattia on the sofa and settles in.
"So, where's the problem?"
Ken points above and behind Lessie. "That'd be it."
Innes eyeballs the scrapheap, sets his basket on the table, whistles.
"So ... it's bad?"
"Technically, it doesn't qualify as 'bad' until the kettle gets sucked in, but—" Innes tugs at a spoon. "—yea, this's definitely a widger."
"Coool," breathes the Space Cadet, cheek pressed to the paint. "Can they really create black holes?"
"Haven't met anyone who's seen it happen, but there're stories and the principle's solid, so." Innes shrugs.
"It's /true?"
"Oh, aye. True as Punky hoards cheese."
Space Cadet sparkles. "Brilliant!"
Punky chirps a question.
"Don't get your little scaly hopes up. You've already eaten."
Punky makes a sad noise.
"So ... how're you going to get the widger out of there?"
Innes frowns, cocks his head. "What's on the other side of the wall?"
"Uh, the chess club."
"They have any electronics?"
"Not that I know of?"
"I will check!" Mattia sprints out.
"They tend to fry computers and such if you startle them," explains Innes.
"An ee-em-pee!" sings the Space Cadet.
Innes nods. "Pretty short radius usually, but you can't be too careful."
"There is only the clock and it is on the far side of the room," reports Mattia.
"That's what I like to hear. Now, then—" Innes pulls a short, thick bit of chalk from his toolbelt. "—just a little bit of artwork—" Draws an intricate figure around the collection of cutlery, paperclips, bottlecaps, and coins. "—give it a little push and—" Gestures with the chalk. "—voila!"
All the metal bits slide down the wall and clatter against the floor.
Innes tucks away the chalk, weaves another complicated shape in the air, reaches into the wall.
Something squeaks.
Innes slowly pulls his hands back, cupping something, crooning in Gaelic the whole while. 
Frantic squeaking.
Innes tucks the squeaker into the basket, withdraws his hands.
The basket peeps.
They peer inside.
A palm-sized dragon with black, gold, green, and orange stripes cowers in the center of the cushioned bottom.
"That's /it?" says Tobi.
"That's it," says Innes. "That's a young adult female widger."
"It's so /tiny! Look at the itty-bitty toes!" squees Murron.
"Alright, that's enough staring, these little ones are shy. We'll just give her a few bits—" Innes scoops some paperclips from the floor.
They /leap from his hand to widger's sides, stick fast.
"—and she'll be happy as a lark until I can get her back to The Blessing." Innes closes the basket, does up the hasp.
The Space Cadet sighs heavily.
"How about we head outside and put Punky through his paces?"
Space Cadet perks up.
"He does a scary good flaming barrel roll~!"
"Really?"
"Cross my heart."
"I want to see it!" hollers Mattia.
"Alright, everyone who wants to see the air show, follow me!" Innes puts the basket over his arm, makes for the door.
Everyone drifts—
Except Lessie. "Murron? Can I borrow you and Ken a moment?"
The back of Ken's neck prickles.
Murron doubles back, pauses to let Punky jump onto Innes's shoulder, plops in close to Ken again.
Mattia, Tobi, and the Space Cadet follow Innes and Punky out.
"So ... what's up?" hazards Ken.
Lessie goes serious. "Today's meeting wasn't /totally pointless. The civil and human rights folks reported in that there've been a bunch of selkies, all of them female, vanished lately—three last week alone.
Murron scootches closer.
"That made the barrister-types nervous and they dug into the laws governing Taking in the UK and they're a fucking pathetic."
"Pathetic how?"
"The cunts in Westminster haven't figured out how to deal with folks not born in human shape yet, so they're not covered by the same laws as you and me."
"W-what does that mean?"
"I'm livestock," murmurs Murron.
"/What?!"
"You've got a registered owner?"
Murron nods, eyes down.
Ken's brain grinds to a halt.
Lessie grins. "Someone was thinking fast when you came ashore, aye?"
"Mhmm."
"How is that ...."
"That's the loophole the barrister-types've found. Classing selkies as 'property' and assigning 'ownership's the best protection they can get."
Ken blinks at Murron. "But that doesn't make any /sense! You're a—"
"I'm a selkie. Not human," whispers Murron, edging away.
Ken pulls her close again.
Murron sniffles.
Lessie /finally breaks the quiet: "So, if Murron goes missing, Missus Galloway reports it as a theft of property, the police get involved, and we get her back."
Something like a protest flickers across Murron, but she stays silent.
Ken shakes the feeling away. "What now?"
"Report her stolen."
"Li-like a wallet?"
Murron nods. 
"But that's not—I don't ...." Ken sags. "I don't believe this."
"It's how things are until we change them." Lessie flicks her ponytail from her shoulder. "So, be extremely careful whenever you step off the loch. There're folks out there kidnapping selkies. If you're headed to Glasgow, tell me and I'll get you an escort, alright?"
"That's /crazy!" blurts Ken.
"Better safe than sorry, yea?"
"This whole thing makes it seem like /she's the one's done something wrong!"
"It's about keeping her safe /ourselves, because we can't count on the police doing it for us."
"This ... this isn't fair."
"This's /life for you two. /You go out and people might beat you up, /she goes out and people might kidnap her. This's why we need the Blue Bloods still." Lessie sits back, crosses her arms. "Of course, there /is another option."
Murron sits up a bit straighter.
Ken raises an eyebrow.
"You, Mister Truth-sayer, can learn to Nudge and—"
"I'm not mucking about in someone else's head, alright?"
"Really now."
"Yea, really. Like you'd be just /fine with me making up your mind for you?"
"/No," scoffs Lessie. "Which's why I've built barriers against folks like you."
Ken cringes.
"You know he wouldn't hurt you," says Murron.
"I know /he wouldn't, but he's not the only one with that little skill, aye?"
Murron concedes with a head-tilt.
"Lessie, I can't—"
"Can't or won't?"
"Can't—" Ken lets his shoulders slump. "—/and won't."
Murron tugs his sleeve.
Ken slides his gaze over.
"You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." She offers a watery smile. "Besides, it's not like anyone can Take me."
Ken's heart and major arteries tie themselves in a knot.
He looks to the ceiling for help.
It gives him nothing to work with.
"Murron, if ... if you were me, would you Nudge someone?"
She shifts, mumbles, "I think I would. To protect my friends."
"Not that you're asking, but I'd do it in an instant to keep people safe," adds Lessie.
Ken takes a deep breath, croaks, "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Murron laces her fingers through his, squeezes.
"Who said anything about hurting people?" challenges Lessie.
"Y-you can do a lot of damage Nudging wrong, Missus Hughes says."
"So, do it right."
"It's not that simple!"
"Then explain it to me."
"It's a conversation, yea? Push and pull? I push too hard and something could break, cause who knows /what kind of damage. And-and I don't know what's going on with the person I'm Nudging—can't have any idea how what I'm making them do will affect them down the line." Ken huddles around himself. "I could ruin their life /and drive them crazy even if I do everything exactly right."
"Sounds like you've already put a lot of thought into it."
"Of course I have!"
Lessie sighs, shrugs. "Guess I'll have to leave it up to you to make the right decision."
"Thanks," grumbles Ken.
Murron squeezes his hand again.
Ken squeezes back, his smile a little forced.