They had been in the woods for a week. She swore they weren't lost, insisted she knew just where they were, and that they would be there "soon" but it had been three days of "soon" and he was losing all patience.
When he had asked her if "any of her fancy magic" could get them un-lost, she'd gone quiet. Then she had begun digging frantically through her satchel, dropping more items to the ground than he would have thought she could possibly begin to fit into it.
And then she stopped, a red leather book in her hands. She beamed at him, and then settled down to read. To readwhile they were lost in the woods. But she was quickly drawn into the tome, and Vilkas was loath to interrupt, so he settled down to watch her.
He admired the way she devoured the page, her eyes flying over the words, whatever they might be. One hand thoughtlessly reached upward, catching a stray lock of hair from the nape of her neck and twirling it around her fingers. Her lips pursed, her brow crinkled, and occasionally she would frown. He could not have taken his eyes off her for anything.
Minutes ticked by, but neither of them noticed. Then she glanced up. Her gaze caught his, and a flush darkened her cheeks, but she didn't look away. There was an intensity in her eyes that he had never seen before, something he could not put a name to.
He was the one to look away.
When he looked back, she was whispering something from the book, her right hand raised in a casting gesture. As she spoke, the book vanished, slowly fading from existence. When the book was gone, she raised her hand once more, and cast the spell. A blue trail of light led east from where they sat.
She whooped in triumph, and threw herself at him. Her arms twined around his neck, and she planted a sloppy kiss upon his mouth. He was paralyzed in surprise.
"We're not lost anymore!" she said, her grin lopsided as she gazed up into his face. He nodded, still incredibly stiff. She seemed to realize what she had done, and she backed away from him, mortification darkening her face.
He felt her pull away, felt his hands drop to his sides. He hadn't even been aware that he'd been holding her until she'd slipped from his grasp. She turned away from him, stooped and began hastily stuffing things back into her satchel. He reached out to her, he wanted to explain that it was just surprise.
But once more his hand fell to his side. What could he say? He was not the brother who was good with people. His vocabulary was immense, but that didn't mean he knew what she needed to hear. So instead, he turned away, hefted his own bag, and waited.
When she turned to face him once more, her features were blank, though he could see pain in her eyes. He wanted to soothe her, to brush it away and tell her that he wasn't used to such exuberance. That it was nothing against her, and that he hadn't minded. But the words would not come.
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Reviews are love! Please leave me a review if you're reading. They brighten my day, and make it easier for me to continue writing.