Chapter Thirty-two

Enid stared out through the door, watching for the campfires she'd seen the night before and listening for any sound, but she heard nothing. Some part of her was relieved, so relieved she had to stop herself from sighing, but some part of her didn't trust in the silence enough to believe that it was real.

"Close the door, Enid," Ivar said, and she took one more look out into that darkness, hoping that she would see something, anything, to put her mind at ease, and then she sighed, slipping the door shut and wishing they had a way to secure it.

"Do you think they're gone?" she asked.

"Probably not," Tyr smiled, and she stared at him, her eyes big and wide, her heart suddenly leaping to her throat as Enid opened her mouth to speak, to ask him what they should do and where he thought they were, but then he laughed, his eyes closing slightly as he watched her.

"Relax, Enid," he said. "They're either sleeping in the woods or they've gone home."

"So they won't come back?" she asked, and Tyr looked away, that smile vanishing from his lips as he shrugged.

"Who knows."

"You and Frigga stay with me tonight," Ivar said, and she looked at him, a strange mixture of relief and of something more high-strung, like a tightly bound rope, seizing her chest, and she couldn't find it in herself to refuse, all she could do was nod and clutch at the front of her dress.

"I should put her to bed then," she said, and before long she was wrapping those thick furs around Frigga and smoothing the hair back from her face.

Enid realised it then, how deeply this little girl had wormed her way into Enid's heart and how difficult it was to not feel like Frigga was her own. Could everything Tyr had said really be true? Was there really room in their hearts for Enid as well?

Enid found herself fighting back tears, tears that were out of joy, out of love and definitely out of sadness. Frigga wouldn't remember her when she was gone, just like she wouldn't have remembered Ivar if he had never come back. She wouldn't remember these nights by the fire or the days by the river. She wouldn't remember even though she had touched Enid's life so greatly.

Enid slid into bed beside her, holding her to her chest and feeling those tears running down her cheeks, and she felt those cracks that started to form in her heart, the ones she didn't know if she would ever be able to heal.

Enid was still holding Frigga when she was startled awake and she turned with her eyes big and wide to stare at the man standing beside her. Ivar watched her, that same scowl on his face, that same stiffness in his shoulders and for a moment Enid thought he would say something, that there was a reason why he looked at her with those eyes so dark and terrible, but then he blew out the candles and disappeared into the shadows.

Enid could hear him moving in the darkness, catching sight of only fragments of him as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it across the room, and her mouth went dry then, her heart hammering in her chest, her hands holding onto Frigga tighter and tighter, but then he slid into bed, those big hands brushing against her chest as he pulled Frigga from her.

"Far…" Frigga mumbled.

"Hmmm," he hummed, and Frigga laid her head down under his chin, her fingers reaching for his beard and twirling it as she fell back asleep, and finally Enid let out that breath she'd been holding, feeling the tension in her back soften and leave her.

"You're a light sleeper, Enid," Ivar whispered. "That's good," he finished.

"You're not very good at this," Tyr laughed the next day.

"Shut up, Tyr," Enid gasped, her chest heaving as she rested her hands against her legs.

Somehow everything hurt, even parts of her that she didn't use, even parts of her that were not scratched and beginning to bubble with blisters.

"You should go swimming later," Tyr said. "You'll feel better afterwards."

"No chance," Enid said, bending over to pick up her axe.

"Suit yourself," Tyr laughed. "But you asked for help."

Enid swung for him, grunting with the effort and feeling that twinge all the way through her back, but Tyr ducked, tapping her side with the wooden end of his axe and laughing as Enid cried out, clutching at her side and dropping her axe.

"You think too much," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped, but he stopped, that smile vanishing from his face as he seemed to stare straight through her, and for a long while he said nothing, his hand twirling his axe in his fingers, his forehead lining in a deeper and deeper crease.

"It's like fishing," he said finally, "You can spend all day thinking about everything or you can listen and strike when you feel it here," he patted his stomach. "Fighting is like that. You have to feel it. Just try it. You know I'm not going to hurt you so forget about everything else and just listen."

She stared at him, thinking on what he said. Somehow it all made no sense, but somehow it was one of the only things that did as she lifted her axe, feeling the weight of it in her hand, this time burying her fear, and she watched him, resting his axe along his shoulders like he so often did with his fishing spear and smiling.

She lunged, watching him duck under her arm like he had before, his axe already sliding to tap at her side, but she caught it, blocking it with the end of her own and pushing him away from her. So quickly those feet landed under him, spreading and turning so that he was standing firm and coming straight for her. She saw that axe reaching for her shoulder and she raised her shield, her breath hitching her chest as she felt the force and his weight behind it.

Would he really have been able to stop that from hitting her? Suddenly she wasn't so sure. Suddenly she wasn't sure about anything, so she swung for him, wanting nothing else than to get him far away from her, wanting to feel safer and be able to breathe again, but he brushed her axe away, coming in close and digging his elbow into her side. She stumbled away, hissing and holding onto her side to try to stop the pain.

"That was better," Tyr smiled. "Until you started thinking again."

"You were going to kill me!"

"Don't be stupid, Enid. Why would I do that?"

She stood straight, turning to glare at him and gritting her teeth. "You were!" she snapped, but Tyr only laughed, kicking her axe towards her and resting his own along his shoulders.

"Again," he said, and Enid snatched it up, holding it so tight her knuckles had gone white and still she held on tighter, and then she lunged for him, feeling that burn jolt like a stream of fire down the back of her leg and diving deeper.

This time she made it through four, five, more volleys and this time he took a step back, that smile on his face turning into a grin and this time she didn't want him to get away.

So quickly she chased after him, bending on her back leg as she came close so that she could aim for him quicker and he twisted away, blocking her axe with the end of his own and then whipping it around to tap it on her back. He laughed then, throwing himself down on the sand and panting.

"Good! You're good, Enid!" he smiled, and for a moment she could only watch him, wanting to kick at his feet and tell him to get back up, but then she felt that smile of her own curling at her lips, that smile that was dangerously close to turning into a grin.

She was starting to like this, to enjoy that burning in the pit of her stomach, that tremble in her heart that seemed to shake it awake.

It was feeling that, it was being able to wipe the sweat from her face and tap at Tyr's boot with her own that made her feel alive, that had her feeling like her feet were firmly planted on the ground and no one could move them but her.