Chapter 23 #2
Raye twitched at the sound, and then blinked toward the small nearby shelf, which held several stacks of clothes — including her own.
Meaning Gaelfr had done that, he’d unpacked all her clothes, and piled them up here, in what was apparently now his bedroom, rather than in her own.
And maybe Raye should have argued that, too, or the sleeping shift he silently handed toward her — but again, she nodded, and obeyed.
Quickly changing into the shift while he watched, and next watching in turn, her mouth oddly dry, as he set the lamp on the small nightstand, shucked off his trousers entirely, and slid his big body fully naked beneath the fur.
He still didn’t speak, but apparently he didn’t need to, and only raised his brow toward her.
And Raye couldn’t hide her relieved exhale as she went and slipped down into the bed against his side, into the safety of his warm arm settling around her.
This was ridiculous, this was appalling, and she breathed him in deep, and tentatively curled her arm across his warm bare chest.
“This was… good today,” Gaelfr said, as he reached to snuff the lamp, plunging them into utter darkness. “We have learnt much, and we shall yet learn more. We shall gain Kalfr’s trust again, and overcome this, together.”
He sounded decisive, aggressive, almost as if he was convincing himself, too. And Raye couldn’t hide her grimace, the shake of her head against his shoulder. “I told you, he hates me,” she said, with a sigh. “He’ll never, ever forgive me, he said. Especially now, after walking in on us like that.”
Gaelfr’s chest rose and fell against her, his hand patting at her back.
“Ach, he knew what he would see, woman,” he said, gruff.
“And it has not yet been a day, has it? I told you, we must take care, and be patient. And” — his chest hollowed against her — “Kalfr has not been blameless in this, either.”
Raye blinked toward Gaelfr’s voice in the dark, and shook her head.
“But… everything he told us, earlier,” she countered.
“It all made so much sense. How he couldn’t risk starting a war.
And how affected he was by my threat to take Svein across the sea — especially when both you and his mother left him, and now I know how the bonds can make you feel, too.
I should have realized, and I” — she took a breath — “I was wrong, Gaelfr. I failed. You were right, and I was… stubborn. Cruel. Jealous.”
The bitterness leaked through her voice, tinged with loss and regret, and Gaelfr’s hand stroked against her back, slow and reassuring.
“Ach, but Svein is yet his son,” he replied.
“And the Kalfr I knew — he should never have stood for this. He should have fought this, and found a way through to you, just as I did. I fear he is…”
His voice faded, and suddenly Raye could feel his heartbeat, hard and fast beneath his warm skin.
“I ought never to have left him, either,” he said, hoarse.
“I am also at fault for this. He is my ástvinur, and I helped to spark all this grief, and then left him to face it alone. He ought to have sent for me, but” — he exhaled again — “I ought to have better pushed through to him, as I did to you. It is clear he needed this from me, also, and I… I did not see it.”
It was a surprisingly candid confession, spoken without a tinge of anger or blame. And Raye could almost feel his sadness, quiet and deep between them, and her hand had begun stroking his chest, smoothing against solid muscle and warm skin.
“So are you still planning to leave soon, then?” she asked, more pointed than she meant. “Wasn’t your goal to dump us off on him, make sure we were safe, and leave again?”
Gaelfr’s chest heaved beneath her hand, a silent admission all its own, but it was a moment before he spoke again. “I shall stay,” he said, “but only so long as you keep the vow you made to us today, before the goddess.”
The vow? Raye’s head snapped up to frown at him, but there was only more darkness, and a telltale prickle of his watching eyes on her face. “You mean… when I told Kalfr I would try to make it up to him?” she asked. “But… I said that to him. And he said he didn’t even want it.”
But she could feel Gaelfr’s stubbornness in the air, could almost picture the look on his face.
“Ach, but Kalfr is my ástvinur, so any vow you make to him, you also make to me,” he countered.
“And he did not truly say he did not want this vow, did he? He said he did not believe you could do this. This is not the same. This is instead… a trial. A test.”
Raye kept blinking at him in the dark, because surely that wasn’t at all what Kalfr had meant… right? But she could almost taste Gaelfr’s intensity now, and that was an unmistakable prick of his claws against the skin of her back.
“And even if Kalfr did not wish for this from you,” he continued, his voice deepening, “this does not yet absolve you, woman. You are Bautul. You swore the vow, upon the goddess’ name. Thus, you shall keep it.”
You are Bautul. You swore the vow. You shall keep it. Those words swayed strong between them, lodging deep in Raye’s belly. She’d truly made another vow to Kalfr, one she was now bound to keep. And gods, what had she even said?
If there’s ever anything I could do for you, to try to make it up to you, I will. I will.
“And you really think… Kalfr would welcome that, from me?” Raye doubtfully asked.
“Or… expect that? After everything else today, it seems to me” — she swallowed, made herself say it — “that he’s only tolerating me.
He’ll be civil, for Svein’s sake, and that’s all.
And in truth, maybe he would still rather have that other woman, too.
Maybe he would be happier to just move on with his life, without us. ”
She couldn’t hide the bitterness in her voice, and she blinked at the sudden sound of Gaelfr’s low, disapproving growl.
“Ach, no,” he snapped. “We are yet his kin, woman. You ought to have scented him today, when first we met. And then every time after, when he looked at Svein, or at you, or at you and Svein together. He longs to be part of this with you. With us.”
With us. Raye’s exhale was slow and relieved, even as she desperately wished she could see Gaelfr’s face in the dark. Did he mean… with him, too? Did he really think Kalfr still wanted to be a family with them, together? With all of them?
“And when he spoke of this woman,” Gaelfr continued, quieter, “and saw this portrait of her… ach. He did not scent of love, or hunger, or longing. He scented of darkness, and danger. He scented… broken.”
Darkness? Danger? Broken? Raye stared unseeing at Gaelfr in the dark, while his hand kept stroking her, firm and steady and safe.
“Thus, as I have said, we will take good care with him. You shall keep your vow to atone to him, and as long as you do this, I shall stay. I shall keep my own vows to tend to him, and keep him safe. And together, we shall address this, and help him, and heal him. We shall guide him back to who he ought to be. Who he is.”
But for an instant, as Raye kept staring toward Gaelfr in the dark, she still wanted to argue that. To tell him he shouldn’t be putting all this on her, threatening to leave if she didn’t comply, especially if there really was danger…
But what else would she do? She needed him. She needed them. For Svein.
So she lowered her head, inhaled a fortifying breath from Gaelfr’s shoulder, and forced herself to nod. But there was an odd stiffness in his solid body against her, a watchfulness. As if perhaps he could scent her hesitation, her unease, her regret.
“You do… yet want Kalfr,” Gaelfr said now, quieter. “Ach?”
Raye couldn’t read his tone — was it some kind of trick question?
But she grimaced, and sighed, and forced another nod.
Yes, as painful as it was to admit, she…
she still wanted Kalfr. Maybe she’d always wanted Kalfr.
And maybe that was another reason she’d never been able to forgive him, why she’d never gotten over him and Gaelfr in her garden, the way he’d arched into Gaelfr’s touch and his teeth…
But if nothing else, the pain and jealousy of that memory had almost entirely faded, now, and Gaelfr’s firm hand rubbed it further away.
“Ach, I shall never stop wanting him, also,” he said gruffly.
“So if you can again keep your word upon this, and keep yourself from scenting of jealousy and rage whenever I touch him, that shall be a great help.”
Raye frowned and elbowed at him, but only halfheartedly, and in return earned a light, teasing scratch from his claws. “If you keep learning thus,” he said, “mayhap you shall even enjoy this.”
Despite Raye’s grimace, there was still a quiet, hungry eagerness, whispering in her belly.
Maybe there still was hope for this, for them.
Maybe she could keep her vow, and pass this test. Maybe they would help Kalfr, and learn what happened with that woman, and why he was here alone.
And then, maybe they could find a way to escape the men, and then…
“Now sleep, stubborn woman,” Gaelfr said, with a yawn, and another gentle scratch at her back. “You can suck me again come morn, ach?”
It was preposterous, infuriating, wrong, and Raye was yawning too, and settling closer. She would argue with him later, in the morning…
So she closed her eyes, and slipped into the quiet safe darkness.