Short Story is Short! Just a little something I was writing for a Drawing of mine.

…...

It was strange.

This land that bled rivers of glass and breathed mountains of fallen stone.

It was woven by the hand of giants, of the cracked bones of the Frost Giant Ymir.*

It was not a land to be caught up in, to be lost in, starved and alone in.

No, it was not the type of land one wanted to be kept in, to be locked in like a prisoner in a tight and shining bird cage.

It was frightening, but I had no where else to go.

I was a wander, leaving the comfort of my own country in search of something wonderful and beautiful—what I found, was him.

He was tall, as big as any Ash tree. He was blonde, as fair haired as a mound of hay. He was rough, as rough as a bear in the midst of a harsh and cruel winter.

But I loved him.

He kept me safe in the little ways that he could.

He understood that I was a stranger in a far off place, in a territory that could eat me alive simply because I was an outsider.

He knew I was alone, therefore he made it his duty to take care of me. To feed me, clothe me, to love me as if I was something precious and fragile.

Not a day passed by in our little hut of ceder and goat hide that I did not think of him with fond thoughts and honeyed words.

He was my everything, my comfort in this foreign place with a strange language unlike my own. With frighting people who were as tall as I was small. With heavy set eyes that burned like the frothing sea.

It frightened me, but he was always with me. He was what mattered to me most, what I longed for in this lonely world.

Then—one day, he was gone.

I woke up in the hut alone.

The cooking fires had been smoldered, the blankets left ruffled and creased as if he had left deep in the blackness of night in order to not wake me. The goat hide's flaps were left blowing in the wind as the bone clips were left on the ground from where he escaped, from where he fled from me.

I was alone once more.

I cried that night. I cried like a river that had been through heavy rains and jagged snow. The tears tasted of salt as they bit against my cheeks and I could not help but feel something thick and sold churning in my gut.

My love, the one I wanted to be with, the one who helped me to get used to this frighting place…He was gone, left with only the mocking twinkling of the stars to remind me of him.

There was nothing left to do. So, with not a sobering thought in my mind, I curled up into the dented place where his body had laid asleep. The bedding was still warm and it was a mild comfort as I slept and rolled in his scent. Even if he was gone, I still loved him. I would always love him.

That morning I was not awaken by the warm fingers of the sun on my face, nor from the wild birds singing call. I awoke to the smell of something sweet.

I cracked open an eye and felt my breath catch in my throat.
There he was, my lover, my savior—my friend.

His face was worn and dirty, his tunic ripped light from the seams, twigs of heather gnashed into his hair haphazardly.

He let a small smile grace his lips as his bespectacled eyes softened at the sight of me.

I bit back more persistent tears before I flung myself on him in a heated hug that must have lasted for hours.

Oh how I missed him. Oh how his scent alone just made my heart jump and flutter like a captured bird.

But then, the embrace was shifted and I was once again left staring at his stormy eyes as he held something in his hands.

It was velvety soft and glowed a white hue, it's stem slightly curled. A scrap of cloth was wrapped around it as he showed it to me carefully, telling me to be mindful and not touch to it—as the flower itself was poisonous.

I marveled at the little thing before I asked him, 'Why? Why would you leave me in the middle of the night—left alone to think you had left me, or worse, that you loved me no longer?'

He simply smiled as he placed the flower down on the hide mats of the hut.

He clasped his hands in mine as he leaned forward.

His breath was hot as it tickled my face, but it was welcomed and it made me blush a bright pink that burned my face sweetly.

'I didn' leave ya'. I wanted ta' give ya' this—' he gestured to the flower laying silently on the floor.

'It's a flower from this land… thought It'd make ya' feel better since ya' seemed so scared a' this unfamiliar territory…'

I widened my eyes once again as I blinked at him. He, he meant it as a gift, to comfort me? To quiet my heart of the fears that this land embedded in me? I suddenly smiled softly as I squeezed my finger in his.

'Thank you…' I mumbled as I looked at him through my framed eyelashes. He smiled a shy boyish smile before his eyes grew gentle, like the calming sea during a sunset.

'I could never leave ya'.' he mumbled in his guttered speech as he leaned in to me slowly, softly, like the whispering wind at our backs.

'I love ya' too much, T'no…' He whispered against my lips before, with a shy brush, our lips met in an innocent kiss that made out hearts ignite with something that we had been longing for for a long time.

'I love you too, Berwald' I whispered before our eyes slid shut again, this time, leaning in for another kiss that made our cheeks blush red and our hearts quicken.
This place, this land that grew from mountains old and carved from roaring seas.

It no longer scared me.

Because I knew I had one comfort in this land that would never leave me. This warm feeling, this wonderful embrace that would never let me go, not even for the world. I was safe with him, nothing could make me fall in love more. This one comfort that would be with me always…

His name, was Berwald.

…...

Authors Notes:

-It was woven by the hand of giants, of the cracked bones of the Frost Giant Ymir.*-'Ymir' was a Frost Giant who in Norse Mythology, was killed by Odin and his two brothers and was used to create the world. His skull was the sky, his brain was the clouds. His blood was the rivers and lakes, his bones were the mountains, his hair was the trees and his teeth were the boulders.