Chapter 19
19
FRIDA
T he next few days passed in a blur. As soon as the rising sun washed the world in pale orange light, I was out the door with a new bundle of wood in my arms. The morning hours passed quickly as I worked on Arvid’s fence, and despite the callouses roughening up my palms, the work had a steadying effect on me.
After lunch, I always spent an hour with Arvid’s daughter. Even at eight years of age, Eydis was a bright, determined girl who handled the bow like someone who’d already spent hours attempting to learn the tricks of the trade herself. As eager as she was, it didn’t take long to teach her the basics. Another week or two wasn’t long enough to turn her into an expert, of course, but I could leave her with enough skills that she could eventually sharpen her base knowledge into something fierce.
The afternoon was my favorite part of the day—and my least. Every day, I made the long trek to the cave, where I attempted to converse with the dragon. The first afternoon, all I got was another round of huffing in my face before Eldi turned his back on me and stalked into the darkness again. Even with the new Hugur sand, his mind was a blank wall of nothingness to me.
The following day, I actually got something from him. When I asked what kind of things he liked, I had the overwhelming sensation of looking out at a long stretch of sea, the water glimmering beneath a high summer sun. But just as soon as the image filled my mind, it vanished.
On the fourth or fifth day—it was difficult to keep track with the long hours I spent on my feet—I doggedly trudged along the path to the cave again. This time, Eldi was curled in the swaying grass that spread across the foothills beneath the shadow of the mountain. Butterflies danced around his head, and birds whistled in the distance. As his powerful breath blew the surrounding grass, I had to pause for a moment and bask in his majestic aura. His glimmering black scales. That proud glint in his eye. Even though I’d seen him several times now, the awe had yet to fade.
As I approached him, I tossed a few grains of sand into my mouth and washed it down with some water. Instantly, I sensed something different from him—something more than what I’d felt before.
It still wasn’t quite words, but I swore I could feel emotions pulsing from him, or the brush of his soul against mine. He seemed…sad. And lonely. And a bit lost, like he didn’t quite know how to turn his sadness into joy. Perhaps he didn’t even know what he wanted.
With his emotions churning through me, I decided I wouldn’t mention my own troubles today. Instead, I sat cross-legged nearby and brought out the snacks I’d packed in my satchel: a heel of bread, some dried meat, and a small chunk of cheese. I’d gone through most of what Arvid had given me.
I put together a sandwich for the dragon and tossed it to him. He caught the food in mid-air, his mighty teeth slashing down on it. Smiling, I ate the half I’d left for myself and considered my next steps. I was nowhere near winning Eldi over, but he seemed less outwardly suspicious of me now. Maybe all he needed was patience and a lot of time—time I didn’t really have.
“You have a lovely cave,” I called out to him. “And it’s lovely out here on the hills, too. Do you know where else is lovely?”
No answer, though I didn’t expect one just yet.
“Oakwater.” I let a beat pass. “The folk there are so kind and welcoming of outsiders. And wouldn’t you know it, they’re also very interested in dragons. I’m sure you know Lilia and her dragon, Reykur. He’s your brother, isn’t he?”
Again, no response, though another pulse of sadness brushed against me.
“Anyway, the folk of Oakwater love Reykur. I’m sure they’d love you, too.”
Over the past few days, I’d had no time to head into Oakwater to ask around about dragons, but Arvid and his daughter had been more than happy to oblige my curiosities. Apparently, both Lilia and her dragon friend were well-loved on the island. Here, they didn’t fear the beasts. Most of the villagers were even aware that Eldi lived nearby, but he was so reclusive, they rarely thought of him.
I couldn’t imagine how lonely he must be. According to every legend I’d heard, dragons weren’t meant for solitude. They suffered with loneliness just as much as folk.
Eldi huffed, and that aching sense of loneliness brushed against me once again.
I nodded. “I understand how it feels to be lonely. Before I came here, I lived alone for a very long time. Really, it’s how I ended up coming to this island.”
A dash of fear followed the sense of loneliness. I cocked my head, trying to understand what that could mean. Was the dragon afraid of the townspeople? But why? Surely they’d never done something to frighten him. If they had, I was certain I would have heard about it. In fact, there were rumors the villagers were considering starting up the Dragon Festival again to celebrate the mighty beasts. Arvid and his partner, Mellor, were beside themselves with excitement about it.
“Should I swallow some more sand? I’ve still got plenty,” I said, lifting the burlap sack. “Would that help you tell me what’s wrong?”
The dragon rose, spread his wings, and gazed up at the clear cerulean sky. A wash of fear rolled over me, like angry waves at sea. And suddenly, I understood. Why Eldi was here. Why he remained hidden away in his cave. Somehow, against all odds, the dragon had succumbed to a fear of flying. He was stuck on the ground, as if his wings had been cast into stone.
I loosed a sigh of sorrow for him, but also one of resignation. Because as much as I needed him, I couldn’t bear the thought of forcing him to fly. I’d have to find another solution to my problem. What that could possibly be, I had no idea. But I wouldn’t cause terror in the heart of this gorgeous creature just to get what I wanted.
I sat with him for a while longer, regaling him with stories of my time back in the Kingdom of Edda. Even though I couldn’t hear his voice in my mind, his emotions remained with me. He seemed to take pleasure in listening to me talk, and by the time the sky bled pink, I realized I was reluctant to leave. I enjoyed his company just as much as he enjoyed mine. Being with him reminded me a lot of Stella, and out of everything back home, I missed her most.
After I climbed to my feet, I gingerly walked toward him. Dragons were known to burn anything that touched them, but Eldi had been sitting in the grass for hours, and the flames had yet to devour it all. Timidly, I reached toward him. With a low rumble in his throat, he lowered his snout and brushed it against my fingers.
His skin was rough and hot, but painless. Smiling, I ran my palm along his scales. He leaned into me, and a deep, soul-settling sigh poured out of him, rustling my clothes. A sense of peace rolled toward me as we touched. The magic of the Hugur sand seemed to tug my soul toward his, filling my veins with incandescent hope and belonging. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. For a moment, we just stood there, taking comfort in each other in a way I never would have dreamed.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I whispered to him.
“ H ow did it go?” Rune asked the moment I stepped through the door. He’d left it propped open, and the evening forest filled the cottage with its orchestra of chattering squirrels and buzzing insects. A soft breeze rolled in, and the hearth-fire’s flames lengthened and spit sparks into the air.
“The Hugur sand finally worked a little. I could feel some things from him,” I said, tossing my satchel into its regular spot beside the door and toeing off my boots. “Emotions only, though. Still no words.”
Tonight was Rune’s turn to cook, and he’d already set bowls of vegetable stew and platters of salted fish and bread on the table. Steam still curled from the food. He must have seen me coming and hurried to have dinner plated up as soon as I walked through the door.
A flame of affection burned through me.
“That’s good. It’s progress,” Rune said, settling into his chair at the dinner table.
I padded over to him, leaning down to scratch Moira’s chin on the way. “You might not say that when you hear what I’ve learned.”
As we dug into the food, I told Rune about my day. When I reached the part about the dragon’s fear of flying, an incredulous expression crossed his face. I hurried to tell him I’d figure out another solution, but he shook his head.
He waved a slice of bread at me. “Frida ‘Determined’ Rurik has given up that easily? I’m sure you can convince him to listen to you.”
“I would rather be Frida ‘Sympathetic’ Rurik,” I said with a frown. “Rune, the dragon is afraid of flying to Oakwater, which wouldn’t even take him more than a few minutes. There’s no way I’m asking him to fly all the way back to the mainland.”
He searched my gaze. “So what are you going to do? Stay here instead?”
“No. I suppose I’ll just have to return empty-handed. It’ll be fine, I’m sure. I can make something up.”
“Right. We’re back to that, then.” Rune sighed. “At least try to help Eldi before you go.”
“Help him how?”
“With a little patience and a lot of encouragement, I bet you can help him fly to the village. If he can master that, he can visit anytime, and then he won’t be so lonely anymore. It’d be good for him.”
I chewed on my fish, examining Rune’s face for any sign he was joking. But he looked deadly serious.
“You want me to convince a dragon that his fears are meaningless?”
“Meaningless? No. But he can overcome them enough to reach the village, don’t you think? And then you can return to the guild and tell Erik whatever you think is best.”
I squinted at him. “You don’t sound particularly happy about that plan.”
Rune leaned back in his chair, eyeing me with an intensity that seared me. “You and the dragon have a lot in common, Frida. You said you could feel the loneliness rolling off of him, like a wave that might pull you under. Well, I’ve felt that same thing from you. It’s not a feeling I’d wish upon anyone. And so if you believe the guild will make you happy, then you should go back to them. Because you deserve to be happy. Same as anyone else.”
I swallowed, my heart pounding. “Are you happy?”
He blinked, like he was surprised I’d ask. “Happy?”
“Yes, Rune. Happy. Sometimes it seems like this island is exactly where you want to be. Other times, it seems like you find everything around you either annoying or downright awful.”
“Nothing about Oakwater annoys me, and it’s certainly not awful. There’s nowhere in this godforsaken world I’d rather live,” he said quietly. “But no, that doesn’t mean I’m happy.”
“And what would make you happy, Rune?”
A long stretch of silence followed. My heart beat wildly against my ribs, and I felt a desperate need to know exactly what would make Rune smile. Permanently . But I was also afraid to hear the answer. It felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, and his words might push me over.
Rune rubbed his jaw, looking away. “I’ll be happy just doing my best to make this village a better place.”
“But you already do that,” I insisted. “Every damn day.”
“The thing I truly want is never going to happen, Frida, and I accepted that a long time ago,” he said.
“And what is that?” I asked. I knew I should let it go, but I couldn’t. Rune had everything he said he wanted. He’d built the home of his dreams, he had the job he loved, and he was surrounded by people he cared for and respected.
But there was something missing. I could see it in the hollowness of those rich brown eyes.
A muscle feathered in his jaw. “I suppose I want the same thing most folk do. When I first came here, I pictured my house the way it is now. With a cat and a hearth and my woodworking shop, all surrounded by the most majestic trees I’ve ever seen. But there was something else in my picture, too—or someone else, specifically. I always imagined I’d spend my life with a companion by my side. Someone I could share my days with. Someone who saw me for what I am and loved me in spite of it. But I’m a hard person to love, so I gave up on that dream years ago.”
“Rune,” I whispered, my heart throbbing painfully in my chest. “You’re not a hard person to love at all.”
“Oh yeah?” He arched a brow. “Well, I’m still alone out here, aren’t I?”
“Only because you haven’t met the right person.”
“Who’s going to love a big orc with tusks, awkward social skills, and blood on his hands? I’ll tell you who. No one.” With a sigh, he stood and collected the dirty bowls. “You must be tired, so I’ll clean up. I’ve put a book for you on your bed.”
I frowned, but didn’t argue. Rune was done with this conversation, and I could hardly blame him. I’d felt the same way about companionship lately, especially after I’d made my vows to the guild. I’d always been drawn to romance novels because I yearned to experience the all-consuming passion that happened between the pages. Even though I’d never felt those emotions myself, the books had given me hope. Hope that one day I might find the kind of love I’d only ever read about.
But I never had. And now I never would.
Rune would, though. I was certain of it. All those things he hated about himself? He was wrong about them. His dark past didn’t matter, not compared to all the good he’d done since then. And while he was awkward at times, he was also kind, and funny, and generous to a fault.
He was also incredibly handsome. The fact he thought he wasn’t, just because of his tusks, was ludicrous. If anything, they gave him an edge.
My heart dropped into my stomach as an intrusive thought pushed its way to the surface of my mind. One I’d been trying very hard to ignore.
I liked Rune.
No, it was more than that. I was pretty sure I was falling for him.