Good Morning, Little Ones!
Thank you to Mel and Jill!
.: Sextán :.
I've never been so tired in my entire life.
The family works from morning until dusk, and wherever we are, dusk happens much, much later than I'm used to. By the time everyone is settling down to eat dinner, I just want to curl up and go to bed.
Eydís and I have found some sort of truce. She's still not very nice, but she yells less, and I'll take what I can get.
I watch as Eydís and Rúna serve up plates. My role is to run them to the table, to serve the men. I've already had to carry a heavy cask of ale, and my tired arms are begging for rest.
When the men and children are served, Eydís and Rúna make themselves plates. Eydís points to me, then to a small stump by the soup pot, and I nod, understanding. I guess my place at the table last night was not meant to be an every night occurrence.
That's just fine with me though. I take my plate and perch on the low stump, happy to have a moment alone. All day I've been trying to figure out when and where I am. The fatigue in my hard-worked muscles tells me that this is probably not a hallucination or dream, but I have no earthly explanation for what happened to me.
There is no way I should have ended up where I have.
I've never thought about time travel; science fiction isn't really an interest for me. I have no idea how it works in theory, let alone if it's even a remote possibility as an actual practice.
But the more I spend time with Eydís in this strange, foreign world, the more I'm realizing time travel has to be a possibility.
That, or I've lost my mind.
I consider the possibility of magic, or perhaps science that is beyond my limited comprehension, when I hear my name. I look up, pulling myself from my thoughts.
It looks like the table is arguing about something, though I of course, have no idea what. I hear my name again and turn to see Rúna motioning me over. I hesitate, taking in the rest of the table first. Eydís is scowling, but for once, not at me, while Josurr and Arni are looking at me expectantly.
Edvard isn't looking at me at all.
I pick up my plate, self-conscious now that all eyes are on me, and head toward the family table. Rúna points to the available space between her and Edvard, and I take a deep breath before setting my plate down and climbing over the fur-covered bench. Rúna gives me a bright smile and says something, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I smile back at her.
She turns to her husband and I peek a glance at Edvard. He's stiff next to me, focused on the meat on his plate.
I bite my lip, looking down at my own plate. I'm exhausted and ravenous, but I'm suddenly too self-conscious to eat.
I feel Edvard shift, and my whole body freezes. His elbow brushes against me, and I stop breathing, waiting.
"Slátr," he says softly, holding up a strip of meat. I look up at him, my head still ducked a little.
"W-what?" I ask, my throat tight. I don't know why I'm so nervous next to him, but sitting this close, I can smell him. He smells of animal furs and sweat and fresh cut lumber. It's a surprisingly nice smell.
"Slátr," he repeats, holding out the meat.
I lick my lips.
"Slaughter?" I ask sounding dazed because he's making a sound I've never heard before. He grins a little, shaking his head. He points to his mouth, and my eyes flicker up to it, mesmerized as I watch his lips and tongue pronounce the word.
Slátr.
I've still not heard him because I'm fully distracted by his mouth. I've never stared at him this openly before, and now that I've got the opportunity, I realize he has a beautiful mouth. Full lips, surprisingly straight teeth, even his beard is trimmed and tidy. I've never thought of a beard being attractive before, but on Edvard it is.
I look up at his straight nose, the small wood shavings that sprinkle his skin from a day of hard labor, and up to his brilliant green eyes. I've never seen eyes so green. Gazing into them, I feel lost at sea.
His eyelashes are long, sweeping, and surprisingly delicate on his strong face.
Edvard is beautiful, and I'm dizzy with the realization.
I don't know that we've been sitting here, staring at each other, until Rúna's elbow accidentally collides with my arm, jolting me into him. He reaches out to steady me, and my blush feels warm enough to light a fire.
"T-thank you," I whisper as he sets me upright.
He doesn't say anything, but I feel his hand linger on my elbow a little longer than necessary.
When he pulls away, my skin is left burning.