11. Elspeth
Chapter eleven
Elspeth
IN WHICH THE TRAINING MONTAGE CONTINUES
A ccording to Aegir, it normally took a week to reach Berggeheimnis from where they’d come ashore, though with their extra stops, it had taken nearly two. She worried they were falling behind, but Aegir said he didn’t mind the extra time their stops added, because Jokith needed to round the southern tip of the continent in his boat, The Lady’s Revenge , and they’d still beat him by several days if she understood correctly. 1
There were inns placed periodically along the road, so each night they had a warm meal and comfortable bed. Though they maintained the ruse of a married couple, Aegir always found a chair to sleep in.
Late at night, when her dreams were too much, she’d scoot to the end of the bed, to where he’d have propped his legs, and sneak hers underneath. Though she hated her nightmares, it became one of her favorite parts of the day. As a small child, her mother would sit on her bed, singing Feann and her to sleep. On the nights when she’d sat on Elspeth’s bed, Elspeth had loved to tuck her cold toes under her mother, and ever since, having weight on her legs had soothed her in sleep. As an adult, she’d made a pillow, weighted with sand to help, but as she didn’t have it with her, Aegir’s legs seemed the solution. Further, because he was asleep, it didn’t bother her in the least. In fact, over the week, the weight of his legs became a great comfort to her, and on the morning of their last day, she woke to find him still in his chair, instead of stealing away early to collect breakfast.
She cracked an eye in the early morning sun, and snuck a look at him. He caught her immediately, but not before she spied the soft smile on his face. He was looking at her and Elspeth was certain no one had ever looked at her so tenderly. She blushed and looked away, the warmth of his gaze overwhelming her.
“I suppose it’s nearly time for breakfast?” she ventured.
“Yes, sorry, I had trouble leaving. I was too comfortable.”
That was all he said, before he left to fetch them food, giving her time to dress in peace.
T hey’d fallen into a rhythm over their time together. Traveling until the late morning, training for several hours, eating a quick lunch, and then they’d be on their way to their next destination. After several days, Elspeth had grown used to Aegir shifting to look like her brother’s captor. He’d drop his centaur form and morph into their constructed facsimile of the elven soldier. Their schedule that day was no different though everything seemed… charged. Aegir had acknowledged her burrowing feet, so, they both knew, and what was more, they both knew that the other knew. It tilted everything and made every smile, every comment feel like a flirtation.
“Today,” he said, flipping a dagger in the air. “I want to see how you are at evasion. We can’t guarantee that there won’t be others bent on capturing you, and I need to be sure you have some skills to avoid it or free yourself.”
Elspeth nodded, assuming the fighting stance he’d taught her. To begin, he stood surprisingly close, and while on previous days he’d often kept a genial air to their training, he set his face in a scowl.
When he reached out and grabbed Elspeth’s hand, her mind blanked. That face, and the firm hand on her arm, it was just too much. Her mind screamed that she was in danger, pumping her full of adrenaline and insisting that she flee. She wrenched her arm, trying to do just that, but his grasp was too firm.
Logically, rationally, she tried to remember that it was only Aegir, and they were only training, but her body pulsed with fear. It flooded her senses and she started shaking. Aegir spoke to her, but she couldn’t focus on his words, couldn’t even look at his face without a scream bursting from her.
Elspeth squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. No, she was in charge of her mind. She could overcome this. If only she weren’t so weak, letting these horrible memories control her, she’d be able to get away from him.
“Ellie…” The whisper broke through her haze, the nickname he’d only recently started calling her reminded her of home and family. “Ellie, can you look at me? ”
With a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and then snapped them open. Instead of that horrible man, it was only Aegir who stood before her. By instinct, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his torso so tight that he grunted.
“Happy to see me, then?”
She could only nod against his chest, deriving strength from him. Gods, Aegir smelled so good all the time, but up close? He flooded her senses, blocking out any of the terrible memories that threatened to overtake her. His tentative hand touched the back of her head, and she nuzzled into it, letting him know that she, miraculously, welcomed his touch.
They’d travelled for days, but she thought that this small glade where they practiced was her favorite place they’d been. The wind rustled through the trees, bringing scents of wildflowers that were so unfamiliar to her as to not even have a name she knew. The feeling of Aegir, though? That she seemed to know as deep as her soul.
Reluctantly, she remembered their purpose. “We should get back to it.”
“No, I think this might be more important.”
“What?”
“You need to learn combat, yes, but perhaps maybe we both need to learn this more.”
“Learn what?” Elspeth tilted her head up to look at him.
The sun peeked through the brightly colored autumn leaves framing his face. “Learn… us. How we fit together.”
“I should think you know quite well how you fit together with someone.”
He smirked, and Elspeth felt a thrill of excitement from knowing that she made him laugh.
“Not like this.” His voice was a whisper, caressing her ears with its sound as he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “ This,” He squeezed her and stared down at her, looking at her like she was something precious and unfathomable. “This is entirely new.”
Elspeth’s stomach made a giddy leap inside her. In all his vast experience, what they had was something new? In a moment of boldness, she felt compelled to kiss him. The ease of his touch made her desperate to grasp for more. Because, who knew how long she could count on it remaining?
Biting her lip, Elspeth raised one hand to cup the side of his face. Aegir closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. She met his eyes and pulled him closer. He bent, but stopped where she’d have access to him, not pressing forward, just waiting.
With a surge of courage and longing, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. The soft pillow of his lips was the perfect landing, and she savored the meeting. Again, Aegir didn’t make a move, he waited. When she parted her lips though, inviting him inside, his tongue flowed into her mouth, as natural as water itself.
This, this , was the closeness, the connection she’d always imagined, always longed for. Their kisses were a conversation, with Aegir never pressing, but always leaving room for Elspeth to expand. The heat of their kiss filled her, dousing her worries over their situation as she allowed herself, at least for that brief moment, to sink into the heady spell that was Aegir.
They kissed until they were breathless, but Aegir eventually pulled away, propping his forehead against hers.
“Yes,” he whispered. “This is definitely new.”
T he final inn of their trip was a raucous place when they arrived just after sunset. People and noise spilled out of the door and onto the street. Aegir shouldered their way in and found them a table, depositing Elspeth before making his way to the bar. A local band played boisterous songs that made other patrons yell to be heard over the music, while others danced where tables had been pushed back. Aegir came back a few moments later with two tankards of drink, avoiding being tripped at least twice.
He was smiling when he sat down, clearly relieved to be sitting after the long day, but it was also like being in the crowd revitalized him. The villagers appeared to be very similar to Aegir, and in fact, they all appeared to be elves, though they didn’t act like any elves Elspeth had met before. While she’d grown used to Aegir’s looks as an elf, the feeling of being surrounded by them pressed in on her.
“Is this an elf village?” she whispered.
“Yes, though, these folks identify as wood elves rather than high elves, only among themselves, of course.” He tilted his head and held his tankard up in a casual toast. “Even elves have social classes, it seems, and these are the most humble of them. That's why they are my favorite.”
Elspeth blinked. Because her own village was so small, she’d never had to think much about differences in social status in that way. Sure, there were some families that were wealthier than others, and some less so, but no one on Hillskerry could afford to set themselves too far apart from the rest in any meaningful way. As far as she knew, it was the same on the other islands where selkies lived. 2
As soon as he’d said it, it made sense. Of course not every elf was in a position of power, even if that is how it had always appeared to her. 3
These people, this town, they all just seemed so… normal. Toasting Aegir back, she sipped the nutty ale and allowed her eyes to roam the room. A few tables over, one man sat in another’s lap, staring at his lover’s hand of cards. Other elves sat around the table, studying their own hands and throwing coins into the center of the table. The elf sitting on his lover’s lap made a quip that had the whole table laughing.
A few tables to the other side, two women, friends it looked like, flopped down into a chair fanning themselves as a song ended. They laughed and joked, one of the ladies pointing across the room and whispering in her friend’s ear. The easy familiarity of it, the friendship and small-town politics reminded Elspeth so much of home that her chest squeezed. They didn’t have an inn, so few people rarely visited Hillskerry, but they had a tavern, and she could have seen these exact exchanges on any evening at home. It wasn’t a tune she knew, or people she knew, yet even the scents brought her back.
If she were home, she and Feann and Mama would be gathered around a table, enjoying the evening. Instead, Mama was home, alone with no idea where they were, and Feann… well, she was coming for him. She set her jaw, taking another sip of her beer. She was going to find him. She had skills now, and Aegir as backup if she couldn’t get the job done herself. He would not spend the rest of his life in whatever horrid situation he was in, she and Aegir would get him out and get him home.
She and Aegir. The two of them paired so easily in her brain now, they felt like a team. Warmth permeated her chest as she looked up at him. Perhaps it was just the bond, but he made her stomach flutter in ways no one else ever had. A smile from him encouraged her to keep pushing when their training got hard, and a kind, soft word was more reassurance than any grand compliment.
He sat with his foot resting on the opposite knee, sipping his ale and bobbing his head to the beat. He was still ostensibly in his “Captain Aegir” persona, though she’d lost track of what name he used today. The way he moved though, his sly looks over to smile at her, the bouncing of his foot, none of it reflected who that character was meant to be. It was like there was another side of him, a side that she liked best, that only slipped out on occasion. He was “relaxed Aegir” in those moments. Less presentational and more likely to make quiet, meaningful conversation than a joke, he only showed that self usually later in the evenings, when they’d retired to their room and the lights were out. The ease of his shoulders though, told her that perhaps “relaxed Aegir” was with her then.
He studied the dance floor, one of his hands tracing movements in the air. Did he enjoy dancing? She’d never been particularly talented, but she always had a good time. Aegir looked over at her, winking when he caught her looking.
“Do you like to dance?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Would—would you like to?”
He smiled and leaned over the table. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable…”
“I’d like to try… at least.”
Aegir smiled and stood in front of her, holding out his hand in invitation. It struck her, in that moment, that that’s how he always treated her. An invitation, never an expectation.
With a deep breath, she placed her hand in his, waiting for the sick panic to set in. She brushed against the warm pad of his palm and felt… calm. He raised his brows in question and she pressed her hand into his, allowing him to pull her to standing. He led her to the dance floor between tables, and held out his other hand for hers.
The small trio started up a lively tune and Elspeth placed her hand in his. He led gently, allowing her to find the rhythm of the song and follow the motions of the other dancers. She swayed with the music and beamed. For days, perhaps months, Elspeth had been tense. Her shoulders had ached when she woke each morning from how tight she’d held them the day before. But for the first time in months, Elspeth felt loose. She felt happy.
More importantly perhaps, she felt safe and excited. Aegir led them around the dance floor, and never once did she feel the clawing panic grasp for her. He spun her and they smiled and laughed. Was this what it was like to be free? She was still bonded to him, but as she spun, the room behind them blurring, Elspeth felt as if she could fly.
The tempo of the song picked up, and suddenly she was whisked around in a dance that involved hopping. When he spun her into him again, Elspeth stole a kiss and then danced away laughing. They made a game of it, stealing kisses when they were close, and making eyes at one another when they were apart.
They danced and danced, laughing and enjoying each other until Elspeth pleaded to stop. While they danced, their food had arrived, so they sat down to eat. After eating, Aegir hopped up to invite her to dance some more and by the end of the night, she was thoroughly tired.
“You’ll have to carry me,” she joked. “I’m too tired.”
“But of course!” He swept her off her feet, and she giggled, kicking gleefully.
“I didn’t mean you actually had to carry me!”
“I know,” he said. “I just wanted to.”
Aegir practically ran up the stairs to their room, and he kicked the door shut with his foot behind them. He set her down, but Elspeth stayed pressed close to him, breathing heavily, though now her breathing had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with how he overwhelmed her. A flush of heat, a tingle between her legs, a flipping, frantic buzzing in her stomach. More powerful than anything she’d ever felt, if nothing else, it made her feel blissfully alive.
"Aegir, about that attraction we both feel..."
"Yes?" he breathed, his tongue flicking out to lick his lip.
She pressed her hands flat to his chest. "Do you think we might—"
"Anything."
Elspeth couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her face. "You haven't even heard what I was going to say yet."
"I already know I want whatever it is you're about to suggest."
Elspeth blushed and looked down, hoping he'd somehow assume she was just permanently that color, with as much time as she was spending pink in the face.
"But please, go on. What were you going to ask?"
"Do—do you think we might explore that attraction... just a bit? It seems silly to ignore it. We're both adults... after all." Eyes drawn to the bed, Elspeth could see the cheeky grin that spread across his face out of the corner of her eye, though he wiped it away when she turned back to him. She crossed to sit on the edge of the bed.
"I thought," he said, drawing a finger along the edge of her chin to turn her face fully back to him. "That I wasn't sleeping in the bed..."
Elspeth's mouth dropped open. "What makes you think that you are?" she shot back .
"Oho!" He swept her off her feet, whisking her across the room and deposited her carefully on the bed. "Fair point, a murúch. Struck true!" He mimed being struck in the heart, lowering himself to his knees.
Once she was on the bed, though, she grew nervous. It was an entirely new level of experimentation, and she had no idea if she was truly ready for it, though she wanted it.
Aegir frowned. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“It’s all just so complicated. This bond—how much of what we feel is real? How much is just rationalization so we aren’t miserable?”
“Does it feel good? Most of the time, I mean?”
“I suppose, but—”
“Then does it matter why it’s happening? When we break the bond we’ll know what’s real. Until then, I’m inclined to enjoy it, while it’s here.”
“I suppose. It’s just so odd, I keep thinking, is this how my parents felt? This desperate pounding need?”
“Desperate.” Aegir smiled, the corner of his mouth ticking up at the side in that cocky way she’d seen. “Pounding.” He paused. "Need. Yes, I think that’s an incredibly apt description. I think you could make me do whatever you wanted, a murúch. No song required.”
1. Considering Jokith’s rowdiness at the time, I am still shocked that Aegir left him with the boat.
2. Over subsequent years, we’ve been able to contact thirty-four other settlements, representing a host of different colorings, though with a generally consistent culture.
3. We were gratified to locate and welcome wood elves into our ranks when we were able, and their ability to integrate into elvish society has been an invaluable asset.