Chapter Fifty-Three
Weeks came and went. There was a memorial service for Johanna’s fallen colleagues with plans to dig a new trail in their honor come springtime. Der Schwarzwald reopened to the public, the tourists returning in droves for skiing and winter hiking. Astrid was less cranky about that bit than she thought she’d be.
Life fell back into many of its usual patterns, but there were new ones, too.
There was wood to chop, dinner to cook, potions to brew, goats to spoil, and a cottage to expand into something more antler friendly. Suri graciously began hosting their bimonthly dinner parties at Astrid’s place, so that Gudarīks could join.
Quiet, a little boring, was just what Astrid wanted. She’d had enough excitement to last her through the next century at least.
After a particularly grueling day of home improvement projects, Astrid took Gudarīks’s hand and led him to her thinking pond. There, they sat on the log they shared before, and for a long time, just stared up at the stars, soaking in the quiet of night.
Silences were comfortable with him. The way he inclined his head toward her, careful not to entangle their antlers, or clasped her hand in both of his or pressed his thigh to hers spoke plenty. Oftentimes those silences told her everything she needed to know.
“Were you there when der Schwarzwald was born?” She had wanted to ask this many times, but with recent events, it never seemed to be the right time.
“I was there,” he answered softly, gazing out into the trees. “I’ve nurtured, I’ve destroyed. Watching the cycles of the forest taught me there’s not one without the other.”
“So, the humans were right. You truly are Wald Vater.”
“I suppose so. To those who remember anyway. That memory is as good as lost.”
“Does that make you sad?”
He shook his head, wrapping an arm around her. “I don’t need a feast night or a festival. My name doesn’t need to be sung in songs or appear in stories. I never wanted any of that. I just didn’t want to be alone. But now I have you, and this eternal life we’re building together. There’s nothing more I could want.”
“Eternal life, huh?” Astrid nudged him playfully. “That’s quite a promise.”
“Does this forest not prove that I can love something for a very long time?”
Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Was he saying that he loved her?
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m saying I love you, Astrid. More than anything.”
Some things were better spoken after all. “Surely not as much as I love you.”
It would be the debate for the ages.