Twenty Five
Edvard wants a sword. A knife. Any weapon, truly. It is not an understatement to say that Edvard feels the most himself when he has a weapon in hand – there is something visceral about the confidence and the comfort of knowing he is strong enough to subdue anyone who would challenge him. And although he is reasonably sure that he could manage well enough fighting with only his fists, in the face of dragons he loses some of that certainty.
Especially when that blue ice-breathing dragon slinks up behind them as they exit the cave in the mid-morning and Edvard does not realize it until the dragon has already surpassed them. He glances at the ice-tipped talons on the dragon's feet and wonders how the dragon could move so silently when those claws should drag noisily across stone.
Dragons, he internally despairs. Iza may like them, but I do not. Too unpredictable.
Warily, he watches as the blue dragon – Kaldr is what Iza had called him before – bows its great spiked head and chatters at the other dragons. His eyes turn to Iza, as they inevitably do, and he studies the look of realization that crosses her pretty, fine-boned features.
Not for the first time, he worries that she is too young for the responsibility that is on her shoulders. Running the village. Outsmarting with the Elders. Raising a dragon. And now, it would seem, leading dragons into a battle with the weight of destiny to bear in mind.
She is only a few summers younger than he is, he knows. Maybe five or less. But her maturity, her steadfastness, is far greater than her age. She said that the blind dragon, Dagmar, called her Changemaker – and Edvard can believe it, he truly can, because this slip of a girl makes a change just by breathing.
She makes a change in him by just being Iza.
And he wants to win her, but he knows she is not a thing to be won. Protected, yes. Desired, naturally. But won? No, she is her own person and he would not want to take that away – but he could perhaps stand at her side, an equal, someone who she has won back.
Years ago, even months ago, the very notion that Iza could maybe return his interest had been far-fetched. Knowing that he is favored by the Chieftain and knowing that the Chieftain would want to make a sensible match between Edvard and Iza had made Edvard hesitant in the past – he had not wanted to force her hand and so he had kept his distance to provide her with choices her father might take away.
Now the notion is not so unbelievable. Not after these few days where he has been able to be so close to her. Not after the night before when he had been able to watch the fire dance along her milk-pale skin as she fell into sleep, somehow so innocent and unbearably appealing that he had been hard-pressed to keep his hands to himself. Not after he had seen the way she looked at him, the way her eyes followed after his hands and dipped to his mouth and gazed deep into his eyes, down to his very soul it felt like.
Now it does not seem unfathomable that she would return his interest. Now it does not seem like his pursuit of her would be backing her into a corner. Now it does not seem like a kiss from him would be met with a slap in the face.
The only thing to do is balance the scales between them. Edvard knows there are things about Iza that he cannot hope to match – her intellect for one, and her connection with dragons for another. But she did accept his protection, practically declared that she only trusted him, in fact. He will simply have to match her in other ways, or at least out pace her in some places so that they can have a partnership. He more than anything wants there to be equality between them, and if that means he has to stand back and watch her commune with ancient creatures then that is what he will do. It is not as if he is too dumb to fill in the blanks of a one-sided conversation, after all. And Iza is keen to share most things, so he is not unduly concerned.
It helps, of course, that she had accepted that he is Lokison and that he has seidr stronger than any in the village, even if he is a man. It also helps that she now willing passes him the bow and quiver that had been gifted by Loki, trusting that his own skills with an arrow would be more useful than her own.
"Kaldr is coming with us," Iza tells him, watching as he straps the quiver around his hips.
Edvard tests the string of the bow, feeling the low hum of magic in the wood. It is a powerful weapon, one that he is almost surprised Loki would craft and give away. Naturally, his father would not do this without some reason – and Loki always knows more than he lets on. The fact that Loki gifted such a powerful bow to Iza means something that Edvard cannot quite grasp. But it is impressive all the same.
"Is there any particular reason this Kaldr insists on joining us?" he wonders as he secures the bow to his back.
Iza's two-toned eyes trail to the dragons around them, now five in total. "Eko says that he is restless in the cavern. I think he wants to fight and is jumping at the first chance to do so," she says, the corner of her mouth tipping upward.
"Kaldr is bored," Edvard surmises. He casts a speculative look at the blue dragon, who meets his gaze head-on with eyes as icy as the frozen fjords in the winter. Eyes as icy as those he knows all too well. "That reminds me of someone."
Iza smiles wryly. "If she wants, I think Różyczka would be a good match for Kaldr. They seem to have the same type of spirit."
Edvard can only agree. Różyczka and Kaldr do seem to have similar personalities, not to mention similarly chilling gazes. It seems only fitting that the girl who nearly demanded a dragon from Iza would be paired with the dragon that insisted to join the fight.
"And the other dragons?"
Iza lifts her shoulders in a delicate shrug, the tip of one scar just visible at the top of her collarbone. "I do not know yet. Some dragons have not spoken to me through Eko, yet. I have their names and what they can do, but I do not think they trust me yet. I think that even for them it has been some time since a dragon last bonded to a human," she muses, folding her arms over her chest, a wisp of dark hair falling across her face.
Edvard curls his fingers into a fist so that he does not tuck the stray hairs back behind her ear. Maybe one day, but not yet. Instead, he moves to follow behind the dragons, who have slunk into a neat formation to hug the sides of the mountain as they carefully, quietly traverse back down. In some ways, it is easier descending the mountain than climbing it – but Edvard is wary, the last battle with dragons still sharp in his mind especially knowing that the unfriendly dragons and their ringleader, the Malice Striker, are so near. He makes sure to guard Iza's back, placing himself between her and the cliff sides, always ready to catch her should she slip on the steep path.
It takes them some time to get to the base of the mountain. Between two humans and five dragons, three of which are twice the size of Eko, they reach the base of the mountain well after mid-day, right around the time the sun begins to dip low in the sky. Edvard clicks his tongue as they enter the forest, his face falling into a thoughtful scowl.
"What is it?" Iza asks him, hushed in the growing shadows of the forest.
"We will need to find camp for the night," he says.
"I thought as much. It did take me two days to reach the mountain, even before Loki dropped you before me," she reminds him.
And Edvard knows that the mountain is further from the village than it first appears, but part of him is still anxious to get Iza as far away from the mountain as quickly as possible. He would propose riding the dragons back if he thought it a feasible plan – he doubts any dragon who will not speak with Iza will be eager to let him on their back. Camping is the only option. Maybe if they have an early start in the morning…
Anything to resist temptation, Edvard thinks as Iza walks ahead of him, her small waist and the flare of her hips igniting something in the pit of his stomach. He sends a prayer to Odin for his self-control at the prospect of bedding down beside Iza again – and perhaps even a third time if they do not reach the village tomorrow.
By Odin's wisdom, I cannot do anything to scare her away.
"We should find fresh water," Edvard says gruffly, quickly reaching Iza's side with his longer stride.
"The river is this way I think…" Iza trails off, cocking her head to the side as her eyes dart between Eko and Kaldr, who is staring off in the other direction. "Ah. Kaldr will lead us to water. He can sense it much quicker than we can find it."
And so they follow after Kaldr, who moves more clumsily in the forest than on the mountain. The same can be said for every dragon except Eko, although that is perhaps because Eko has spent so much time around trees. The other dragons seem unfamiliar with having to move around thick trunks and low-hanging branches as such things are not found on the craggy mountain passes.
As they walk, he and Iza work together to gather anything edible they can. Edvard is a keen hunter and manages to easily catch a few pheasants and rabbits with the bows, providing them with enough meat to help line the stomachs of their growing party. By the time Kaldr locates the river that will lead them back to the village, night has already fallen. He and Iza work quickly to find kindling for a fire, which luckily the large dark orange dragon is quick to light.
Edvard and Iza share quiet conversation while the meat is cooking, trading pieces of fruit back and forth after washing their hands and faces in the cool river. The dragons curl along the forest floor, eyes open and watchful, but still resting with Eko at their center as they chatter to themselves. Both humans and dragons eat fast once the meat is cooked through, tiredness pulling at limbs and eyes now that they day is over.
Lying beside Iza for the second night in a row, near enough to touch but not touching, Edvard feels a sense of peace. He listens to her soft voice as she relays some of what the dragons are talking about, a conversation that reminds him of the bickering some children in the village.
At one point, Iza makes a startled sound and Edvard's attention snaps to her with an intensity that must be surprising, because she is quick to wave him away. "No, no – everything is fine. It is just…well, two of these dragons are mated. I had not considered it before, or even noticed…"
"Mated?" Edvard wonders, sliding his gaze to the dragons, none of which seem particularly close. He frowns. "Which ones?"
Iza hums, moving to rest her weight on one shoulder to get a better view. Edvard mimics her posture. "The dragon who lit the fire, the one with deep orange scales, is called Dyngju. His mate is Leiptr, the dragon with the grey scales and violet eyes, who can breathe lightning."
"Fire and lightning? They look to be different breeds."
"I think they are," Iza confirms. "But I also think that dragons do not care about that sort of thing. I am not sure how dragons pick a mate, but it gives me some hope for Eko."
Edvard furrows his brow, turning to look at the gentle slope of Iza's profile. "What do you mean?"
Iza's gaze trails to him, one amber eye and one blue eye looking up at him through long, dark lashes. "I worry for her. Eko is so unique that I fear she might be lonely. It…it is a fear I know well, the feeling that one is too strange to match to anyone."
Truly, if he is honest, Edvard has never had that fear. Not for himself and not for Iza. But he can imagine why she would feel that way – for her dragon and for herself. Being too different can alienate others, and Edvard has long recognized that both Iza and Alise are far too different to connect well with their peers. It is lucky that they have found friendship in each other, especially Alise, who frightens people more than she intimidates them.
And certainly in a romantic sense, Iza would never be lonely. Edvard would see to that.
But he cannot seem to voice that directly, his words failing him. So he winds up saying, "No one is too strange to find a match."
The way Iza looks at him, the firelight making her eyes brighter, he thinks she understands what he is not yet brave enough to say.
You are not too strange to find a match – because you have found a match in me.
Edvard observes with a certain satisfaction as Iza's cheeks bloom pink, that feeling of peace settling over him again as he watches her ease into slumber, her body curled toward his and her head just shy of his shoulder.
And when he wakes up to find Iza's hand resting over his chest, he knows that at least subconsciously she understood his meaning. He revels in her touch and her trust and turns it into strength to carry him through the day.
Settled as they are in this tacit understanding, he turns the full force of his focus toward the mission at hand –
Helping the Changemaker reach her destiny.
A/N: Look at that, Edvard finally got a long chapter! Hopefully he moved some character development and the plot along!
Norse things in the chapter - praying to Odin. Old Norse Occult saw Odin as the Allfather, but he was also the God they prayed to for wisdom or guidance. Sometimes, it was considered a good omen to see a raven after praying to Odin since ravens were basically his familiars or the animals most closely associated with him. Will Edvard see a raven? Who knows. Maybe he should be praying for something other than controlling his lust and then Odin would answer him, huh?
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~Rae