Fifteen
So that is why, Edvard thinks as he walks back toward the village, a red deer pulled behind him by a rope. The deer is heavy and healthy, which means that it will feed many people in the Great Hall this night, but Edvard hardly notices the strain that comes with lugging the carcass back to the village.
All afternoon he has been in a daze, his only coherent thoughts revolving around a certain girl and a dragon. A small dragon, but a dragon none the less.
Of all things, Allfather, Edvard laments silently. A dragon in Forks.
Edvard is certain that Izabela will stun him so thoroughly one day that he will keel over dead.
The scars he'd seen on her skin haunt him. He thinks back to the last dragon battle all those moons ago, the one where she had been missing and the rains had been so heavy he could hardly see if not for the dragonfire lighting up the night. He can clearly remember how vivid the lightning had been and how the loud thunder had vibrated the ground.
Thor had been at that battle. And Thor had evidently struck Iza.
And then Iza had stood before Edvard as if nothing had happened and he had not noticed that anything was wrong. He had assumed that she stayed away from the battle because she does not like the violence, which is certainly true. He had assumed that she had been short with him because they have argued in the past about those very dragonbattles and the right way to deal with them, which is almost certainly true. He had assumed and he had overlooked.
She'd been struck by Thor and it had been obvious if only he had been paying attention – he can clearly remember now that her tunic had been ripped and that she had been bone pale. Caught up in the after battle rush, Edvard had only a mind to check up on her to see that she made it back to the village.
He should have done more.
It is a miracle she still stands and even more of a wonder that she had spoken to him after the battle with those fresh scars on her skin. They must have hurt so much. He cannot imagine it, something tight and hot in his chest at the thought of her in so much pain.
But he also cannot help but to admire her strength and her tenacity. All these months and she has taken on the weight of running the village and raised a baby dragon in secret right under their noses. It is more than admirable. Edvard cannot imagine the stress. He does not have nearly half the responsibilities as Izabela does – and she handles each of them with such grace. It's unfathomable.
Not for the first time, Edvard supposes that this must be what love feels like. It must be. It cannot be anything else.
But this brings Edvard to a strange dilemma.
Izabela has a dragon – and it doesn't seem like she intends on revealing her Eko any time soon. Yet, revealing the dragon is inevitable. There have not been any dragonbattles since the raiders had left, which isn't so surprising as dragons tend to come when the months are barren. But even still, Edvard does not trust in such lasting peace.
Somehow, someway, a dragon would disrupt the summertime rhythm Forks has fallen into. It is inevitable. Edvard can almost feel it in the air – and it makes his fingers tingle with a barely tamed energy.
There is dread, too. Infatuated he might be, but Edvard is not blind. He knows that the village will turn against Izabela when her secret is revealed. He knows that the village will turn against him when his secret is revealed.
Both of them have done something strange and taboo. What a pair they make.
The bleak reality of what will happen weighs on Edvard heavily, but he cannot fully tramp down on the spark of hope that settles between his ribs.
Edvard had accepted Izabela's secret. Would she accept his?
A/N: A tiny EPOV insight with an even tinier hit about Edvard's secret. Any guesses? I've actually already dropped a few in previous chapters!
No Viking things this chapter! But someone did point out that the Viking raiders have been gone for like 4 months and isn't that a long time? I mean, probably? But who the hell really knows how long it took the Vikings to go around and do their thing? I imagine that it made sense for raiders to spend the growing season stocking up on things they'd need in the fall and winter. Plus there's the fact that the Vikings did occasionally cross the Atlantic...*hint*
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~Rae