Hello Little Ones!
Pardon the later than usual posting but I have been sick and absolutely lost track of the day.
Thank you to Mel and Jill!
.: Sex :.
Voices enter my subconscious, and I shift, my tired mind trying to make sense of the words being uttered.
Either I am beyond the point of exhaustion, or they are still speaking a language I do not know.
My head lolls heavily on my rubbery neck, and I'm surprised when my cheek meets with something supple and warm. My eyes struggle open, and when they do, I realize my face is embedded in soft furs.
My fingers are near my head, and they flex through the silky strands, bringing me a degree of comfort. I've always done well with tactile stimulation.
Low, urgent voices continue, and my ears perk up. I'm on my back, I realize, on a bed of furs. I shift, my eyes tracking across the dark room. I can't make out many details yet—my tired mind is too cloudy still to focus—but my eyes settle on a woman standing by a hearth. She is dressed in a rough green gown, her long hair pulled over her shoulders. It's difficult to tell her age in the dark, but the furious look on her face is undeniable.
In front of her, the beast of the man sits at a low table, one large hand tapping restlessly on the surface. My frazzled mind tries desperately to understand all that I'm looking at.
My eyes sweep the woman, who is tiny compared to the beast next to her, and yet, she is unafraid. In fact, it seems as if she is reprimanding him.
I swallow heavily, shifting on the furs to take in the couple across the room, when they stop speaking and look up at me. I freeze, my heart lodging into my throat.
The woman's eyes cast quickly to the man before they return to me. She speaks quickly, sharply, as if she's impatient for an answer before she's even asked a question.
I stare at her blankly, and the man shakes his head, muttering something to the woman. Her eyes cast to him, and I take the opportunity.
"Please." I gasp, sitting up. My head is pounding, but I push past it. "Please, I need to get home."
The woman's brows knit together, and she turns back to the man. They speak quietly, and though I can't understand them, I know they are speaking about me. "Please," I beg again. "Where am I?"
The woman lets out a long breath, shaking her head. She turns to me, her face hard in the flickering light from the fireplace.
"Eydís," she says, stepping forward and placing a hand over her chest. She points to the man next to her. "Eðvarð." She speaks slowly, but I'm still lost.
"I don't understand you," I lament quietly.
The woman scowls.
"Eydís," she says, pressing her fingers to her chest with both hands.
I blink. Eydís, is that her name?
"Eye-diss," I pronounce slowly, hoping I understand. The woman winces a little but nods. I take it that my pronunciation is not to the woman's liking, but it will have to suffice.
The woman points to the beast of a man again, "Eðvarð," she says, tapping his shoulder. His eyes are on me, burning with intensity, even in the dark. The name is so breathy, so slippery that I struggle for a moment to recreate the sounds.
"Edvard?" I try, hoping I'm somewhat close. The two look at each other, frowning. "Can I call you Edvard?"
I hope it won't matter what I call him, that I will be on my way out of here and back home soon enough.
He looks back at me, and his eyes burn in the dark. Slowly, he nods his head.
They both look at me expectantly. I open my mouth, ready to tell them my full name, the only name I've ever truly gone by, when I pause. I don't know these people, and I hope after this strange misunderstanding is sorted, I won't know them ever again. This emboldens me, if only slightly.
"Bella," I say, my lips thrilling with the use of the name I've always wanted for myself. "My name is Bella."
Both Eydís and Edvard look puzzled by my name. Perhaps as puzzled as I was by their names.
"Bee-yella," Eydís repeats, adding in extra sounds to my name.
"Bell-ah," I repeat, over enunciating. The couple both look at me and nod. I'm desperate to get out of here, but more urgently, there is a tightness in my throat that needs to be addressed. "Please, can I have some water?"
When they give me blank stares, I mime drinking from a cup. Eydís hums, deep in her throat, but nods, turning away from me. She moves farther into the room out of my sight.
"Where am I?" I ask, my eyes flickering to Edvard. "How did I get here?"
He looks up at me, his large head tilting slightly, as if considering me. I still can't see him all that well, but in the low flickering light of the fire, I realize he's handsome, more handsome, perhaps, than I might have expected.
His nose is strong, though a knot in it tells me it's been broken at least once, and his brow is heavy, making him look like he's perpetually scowling, but the brilliant green of his eyes, and the delicate bow of his lips under his beard suggest a beautiful, refined creature.
It's impossible to tell how old he is because of his size alone. I can't imagine he's younger than twenty-five.
Eydís comes back with a small cup, holding it in offering to me. I take the cup eagerly, thanking my host as I bring it to my lips and drink deeply.
Fire erupts in my throat, and I spit the drink out, coughing and gasping so hard, tears spring to my eyes. "What is this?" I choke. Both Eydís and Edvard look surprised by my reaction, and Eydís turns to Edvard, speaking furiously. He shakes his head, standing from the table. He's so large, he fills most of the room.
My heart drops at the sight of him at his full size. He speaks to Eydís, his voice heavy and dark before storming out of the room. He pushes open a door, and a blinding strip of light fills the room, making me wince.
When he is gone, Eydís shakes her head at the place he disappeared before she turns back to me. "Ǫl," Eydís says, nodding to the cup. I have no idea what that means, but I shake my head.
"Water?" I hope. Eydís frowns at me. I can taste the alcohol burning on my tongue, and though I've never drank before, I can't imagine something like beer should taste quite like that. "Please, I'm only 18," I mutter, shaking my head. "I'm not old enough to drink yet."
Eydís frowns but comes forward to take the cup from my hands. She disappears and I let out a shuddering breath. My throat is on fire, but I take the opportunity while Eydís is gone to take inventory of my surroundings.
The room is small, but comfortable, with a long table and a fireplace set against the far wall. Herbs hang from the ceiling, giving the whole place a dry, dusty scent. The room seems too small to be a home, and briefly, I wonder if I'm in a workshop of some kind.
My eyes settle on the door Edvard has left through. It leads to outside, and outside…
I'm on my feet before I can second guess myself. Eydís has slipped away from the main room, and I take the opportunity, pushing the door open and darting outside.