Dagur knocked on Iris' door, his shirt completely unbuttoned. The damn buttons fell off when he tried to put them through the button holes. Now he had a hand full of buttons and no idea what to do.
"Iris help," he pleaded.
"Hold on," her muffled voice said. He could understand most of what her and Jon said now. "What can I-Oh your shirt is, ahem, not done." Her face turned bright red once she opened the door and spotted him.
"I broke it," he whined, showing her the handful of small buttons.
"You did," she snickered. "Don't you have any other shirts?"
"Only pullovers. Broke the others ones too."
"How can you have so much trouble with buttons? They are so easy!"
"They are so small! Why do such small buttons exist?"
"So you pull them off and go shirtless." He knew he wasn't supposed hear that muttering but gave her a grin so she would know he did. "AHEM! Come in. Leave the door open or Dad will explode. I'll get a needle and thread."
Taking off the buttonless shirt, Dagur handed it to Iris as he plopped into a chair she called a bean bag. It was comfy and his favorite place to sit in her cozy room. Books filled the shelves that lined her wall. He couldn't believe she read every single one more than once. Give him a book and he'd fall asleep.
She had a dresser at the foot of her bed with little decor on top of it. Some were wood carvings of animals, there was a bundle of dried flowers, and a few strange candles. More dried bundles of flowers and herbs hung from her ceiling giving the room a foresty smell. She had placed a couple in his room to make it more comforting.
The young woman sat at her desk, pink tongue sticking out as she focused on sewing the buttons in their rightful place. He was still in awe of her looks but after embarrassing her five weeks ago, he didn't say it out loud. It didn't make it any less true though.
She had continued helping him with his language lessons. The tapes had honestly terrified him at first. How could someone fit in such a tiny space? Iris had shown him how it could also be used to play music, beautiful music he'd never heard before, and coaxed him to try the tapes.
They were a great help. Now he could have a normal conversation with minimal confusion. That also meant he could understand more of what Iris spoke about. He could listen to her speak all day if she'd let him. Often she'd tell him about her childhood, about things she'd done, and more. One day she took the time to introduce him to every animal that lived around their home. That day he'd also learned something very important.
These people didn't live in a village, they lived in the middle of nowhere. Vivian had explained that they lived away from people for a better connection with the land and simpler ways of living. He didn't understand it. Villages had more complicated ways of living? She had just shook her head and said he'd understand eventually.
That caused Iris to bring out some history books of her people and teach him. He couldn't fully understand it all, especially when she brought out a map and showed him how huge the area was they lived. She had tried to help him understand but gave up when he growled. Instead she had made a face at him and didn't touch on the subject again much to his relief.
His injuries were healing nicely. Already the scratches and bruises from him crashing through a tree were healed. The large gash on his chest was healing well even though it was itchy. Vivian had taken the stitches out yesterday and warned him if he started scratching she'd dew him back up. He took her words very seriously. It still hurt too much to pull a shirt on which was why he just wore the shirts Jon gave him that only needed to be buttoned. He was cursed to constantly pull off buttons trying to put them on though.
With a content sigh he watched Iris. Today her thick black hair was tied back in a ponytail. She wore her favorite wool sweater tha twas a burnt orange color. Dark jeans hugged her legs and multicolored woolen socks covered her feet. He had been impressed with the material called denim that was used to make their trousers that they called jeans. It was a durable fabric.
He wiggled his bare toes while waiting. A pair of Jon's old jeans covered his legs. Vivian had to take them in as they had been too big. Now they fit comfortably around his waist even if the rest were a bit loose.
Overall he was comfortable here. Where ever that was. He was slowly beginning to believe their words that this wasn't where he called home. Everything was too different. There wasn't even the slightest hint of dragons and they had things that people in his world would call witchcraft. Flameless torches, boxes that spoke, glassware that had to be crafted by magic. Maybe he had died but didn't go to Helheim or Valhalla. That would explain why there was no trace of Shattermaster anywhere. He missed his dragon friend but had said his goodbyes before thwarting Viggo's plan to kill the other Riders.
"Done," Iris said proudly. "Let me help you so you don't pull them off again."
"Alright," he groaned as he got up from the bean bag.
He shrugged on the shirt and watched Iris as she began buttoning it from the bottom up. She was close enough he could smell the herbal scent that always surrounded her. Her eyelashes were long and he could see a few faint freckles on her cheeks. Reaching the top button, she glanced up at him only to blush at his obvious staring. Unable to help himself he reached up and stroked her cheek, amazed at how soft her skin was.
"Um," she began, looking at her toes. "I should probably fix your other shirts. Don't want you walking around in a half open shirt getting sick."
"Sure that wouldn't make you sad?" Her face turned bright red at his words. He couldn't help but chuckle.
"I should go."
"Why?"
Slowly he brushed back a strand of hair that hung in her face only to cup her cheek in his hand. Her eyes darted up to look at him as her breathing quickened. Gods he could stare at her all day and never get tired of it. His eyes dropped to her lips. They were a tasty looking pale pink. Moving slowly so she could pull away if she wanted, Dagur moved his face closer to her's to gently brush his lips against hers.
He kept his gaze on hers to watch as shock filled her blue brown eyes. However she didn't pull away. Instead she reached up and placed her hand on his that was cupping her cheek. He interpreted that as an invitation to continue.
Sliding his other arm around her waist he pulled Iris close. Her breath hitched and she placed her other hand on his chest to steady herself. He continued to move slowly, he didn't want to frighten her into bolting, and pressed his lips against hers in another kiss. Her hands tightened but didn't push him away. If anything she pulled herself closer to him. Slowly he ran his tongue along her lower lip to coax her to open her mouth, which she did.
He groaned at the taste of her. He had been right, she tasted amazing. His tongue captured hers as he deepened the kiss. Both of her hands now slide around his neck and he moved his own from her cheek to the back of her head. He didn't want this to end.
The front door shut and someone stomped their boots on the kitchen floor. This caused Iris to jerk away mid kiss. Her cheeks were red as she mumbled something incoherent and bolted from her room. Jon's voice sounded as she darted up the stairs to the upper level of the home.
For a few moments Dagur stood there, his fists clenched as he willed his body to calm down. It took everything in him to not go and attempt to punch Jon for interrupting them. However he knew the man would pummel him for touching Iris, his precious daughter. He couldn't resist. Every fiber of his being was drawn to her for some reason and he couldn't stop it. He didn't want to.
Finally calm he left Iris' room and headed to the kitchen, acting nonchalant as if nothing happened. Jon was hanging up his coat that was full of snow. A frown marred the older man's face as he tossed his gloves onto the table.
"Something happen?" Dagur asked as he leaned against the door frame.
"Looks like wolves are sniffing around the perimeter fence," Jon answered. "The snow is deep enough to discourage them from digging and even if they did the ground is frozen solid they'd only hurt themselves. However the snow drifts on the eastern fence are getting taller."
When Jon had first built this place he had first put up a large wooden fence that could deter even the most stubborn deer. It gave the half acre of land inside protection to grow vegetables along with protecting the buildings that held their extra meat and make it easier to get around without worrying about running face first into a predator. This meant the dogs didn't need to be penned up either. Dagur had been impressed when he first saw it.
"Can you move the snow?" Dagur asked. Jon shook his head. "Well shit."
"Exactly. For now I'll monitor the situation. Iris may have to go to town alone."
"Why is she going to town?"
"She'll be living there for three months."
