Good Morning, Little Ones!
Thank you to Mel and Jill!
.: Ellifu :.
Edvard and I return to the house, the small knife tucked into the belt at my waist. It's in a sheath he offered me after I mimed to him that I was keeping the knife. The weight of it is foreign on my hip, but it makes me feel better all the same.
Edvard doesn't look at me when we enter the house again, though all eyes cut between us. I hesitate by the door, still not sure where to go or what to do. Am I supposed to get food? Wait? At even the thought of food my stomach lets out an almost painful growl, and all eyes turn to me.
My blush can likely be seen in the dimly lit room.
Someone speaks, and laughter breaks out at the table, making me more self-conscious than ever.
My eyes find the striking blonde woman, and my blush deepens when I see her openly nursing a baby. I've never seen anyone nurse before, especially in front of men.
None of the men seem to mind though, and they continue to speak to her as if this is a normal occurrence for them.
When the woman pulls the child from her breast and switches the child in her arms to the other side, I have to stop myself from staring. I've never seen anyone else's breasts, and mine certainly don't look anything like that. I feel like a child caught staring, and I set my gaze on the floor.
A giggle gets my attention, and I look up in time to see two children—one about seven, the other barely more than three—run toward me. The boy, the older of the children, is loud and large, and very clearly the offspring of the giant wrapped around the blonde.
The little girl is an exact copy of her mother, with silky blonde hair and bright blue eyes that glitter in the low light of the house.
They are beautiful children, and they come to a stop in front of me, stopping almost too late. My hands fly up to catch them in case they tumble into me. The boy says something, and though I can't understand him, his confidence is clear.
I stare at him helplessly, my shoulders shrugging as I shake my head. He frowns then turns to the table to speak to his parents.
His sister reaches out to my skirt, her small hand wrapping around the material and tugging lightly. I fall to my knees, trying to bring myself eyelevel to her.
She gives me a weary look, but she looks as confident and strong as the rest of her family.
"Hello," I whisper, hoping that though she probably doesn't know the word, she'll somehow understand me. "I'm Bella."
The little girl's head tilts, her long blonde curls brushing her elbows as she considers me. She opens her mouth to speak. Her words sound garbled to me, but at the table, her mother snorts.
I ignore the woman, focusing on the child.
"I wish I could ask you your name," I murmur.
"Katla."
I look up at Edvard, surprised he seems to understand my desire. I look back at the child.
"Katla?" I repeat. The little girl nods slightly. I smile. "Hello, Katla."
She holds her small chubby hand out to me, and I automatically reach for it, accepting the stone she places in my palm. It's oblong in shape and a perfect dark grey. I look up at Katla who flashes me a small smile.
"For me?" I ask, pointing to my chest. The child nods and I bring the stone to my heart. "Thank you."
Her grin is cherubic, and before I can say anything else, she runs off, finding her brother. I pull my hands from my chest and look down at the stone. It's still warm from Katla's little hands, and for some reason, looking at it makes me want to cry.
I'm so far from home. I know this, even though I don't know when—or where—I might be. There is a very real, very frightening chance that I will never see home again.
Tears well in my eyes as the thoughts crowd my mind. How is it possible to become so completely and utterly lost?
My eyes are stinging, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop tears from falling. I won't cry, not here in front of them. It's a weakness I don't think I can afford to show.