Chapter Twenty-nine

"Most of them will be gone by the morning but some might stick around for a few days," Ivar said. "Don't worry about feeding them. If we do, they'll never leave," he sighed.

Enid could see just the outline of his cheek in the darkness as she held Frigga to her chest, the girl sighing in her sleep, grabbing a handful of Enid's dress and pressing it to her lips. She was so warm, her little body alone enough to replace the firepit on the other side of the wall as Ivar sighed again, sliding lower in the bed and resting his head in the crook of his arm. Enid could see his eyes then, see him staring out towards the door with his forehead lining in a slight crease.

"Did something happen, Ivar?" she asked.

"No."

"Would you tell me if it had?"

He turned to her then, those eyes disappearing into the shadows but somehow she felt them still resting on her.

"No," he answered, and for a moment she found herself reeling and she almost snapped at him if only to hurt him too, but then he sighed again, turning on his side so that she felt his breath hit her face. "Get some sleep," he said.

"Ow!" Enid hissed the next morning. "I swear Freya, you do that one more time..."

"Sorry…" Freya sighed, running her fingers through Enid's hair. "I don't know why I did them so tight, but we're almost done."

"Why can't we just leave it up?"

"I want it down," Freya said, and Enid turned, staring at Freya from the corner of her eye and frowning.

"That's not an answer," she said, her voice deep and low, and Freya sighed, keeping her eyes from meeting Enid's and focusing on her work.

"You look better with it down," Freya said finally, "Don't you want to look nice?"

"Red!" Frigga shouted in English, pointing a finger at Enid's hair, and Enid laughed then, reaching down to pick the girl up and kiss her neck over and over.

"It is red," Enid said to her. "And this?" she asked, pointing to Frigga's dress.

"Green!" Frigga said, bouncing on Enid's lap, and Enid dived for her again, kissing and tickling until the girl's face was red and her laughs were loud and shrill, but then she heard the door close and Ivar sat down beside them and grunted to himself. "Far," Frigga said, reaching for him, curling and uncurling her fingers as she did and he sighed again, taking Frigga from Enid and placing her on his lap.

"They'll be gone soon, Ivar," Freya laughed.

"Hhmmm…" was all he said.

Freya laughed again, but her fingers snagged in Enid's hair, so sharply Enid was pulling forward, yanking her hair free and hissing, "Stop, Freya! Enough!"

"I'm sorry, Enid, I-,"

"Come here," Ivar cut in, nodding his head to the floor in front of him and Enid stared at him, long enough that her anger turned into something cold, something almost frightened and stiff.

"No, it's alri-,"

"Sit down, Enid," he said, and she slowly knelt in front of him, her cheeks suddenly flush and burning far hotter than they should have been, and then his fingers were in her hair, pulling it loose and trailing across her skin.

She tried not to think about it, tried to imagine that it was no different than what she did for him in that basin, and she tried to only think of Frigga's little foot, tapping the back of her shoulder and her little fingers poking and tugging on pieces of her hair.

"Stop that, Frigga," Ivar said, but it was much harder when he spoke, when she could hear how close he was behind her and feel his breath down her shoulders and back.

"Bap!" Frigga shouted. "Red, far."

"Rød," he told her.

"No, red!"

"Red," he sighed, but his voice went coarse then, like switching languages had somehow changed him as well, like Enid was listening to some new part of him she hadn't heard before, and Enid had to close her eyes, feeling the tips of her ears burning as his fingers brushed against them. "What did you do, Freya?" he asked. "It's like a fishing net."

"I didn't want to do it twice!" Freya answered.

"Here," he said, holding Frigga out in front of Enid and inching closer.

Then it was so much worse and Enid could see his knees either side of her face and feel his warmth all around her.

"It's alright, Ivar, just leave it," she said, her voice soft and quiet, barely above a whisper.

"Hush, Enid, I'm almost done."

She closed her eyes, trying so desperately to think of the cold river, of stinking fish, of anything rather than what was actually happening, and then Frigga scurried off, picking up a spoon from the floor and holding it out to Enid.

"'Nig," she said.

"Thank you, Frigga," Enid answered, smiling and taking the spoon, and Frigga ran off again, this time bringing a cloth from the corner, folding it in her hands a few times, before she held it out.

"Here, 'Nig."

"Thank you," Enid said, this time laughing softly, but Frigga took the spoon back, twisting and turning it in her fingers, almost like she was studying it before she plopped it into her mouth. "No, Frigga, that's dirty," Enid said, taking it off of her.

"No, back, 'Nig, back!"

"What are you saying, Frigga?" Enid asked, holding the spoon up so Ivar would take it from her.

"I think she's trying to say your name," Freya answered. "Frigga, who's that?" she asked, pointing at Ivar.

"Far!" Frigga shouted.

"And me?"

"'Reya!"

"And this?"

"'Nig!"

It took Enid a moment, a moment to fight back those tears, a moment before she could let out that laugh building in her chest and reach for the girl. Frigga laughing too, loud, big laughs as she wriggled in Enid's arms.

"Bap, 'Nig, bap!"