Summary: Months after the conclusion of the Jr. Goodwill Games, Julie and Gunnar have a surprise opportunity to see each other again over Christmas. Julie/Gunnar. Multi-chap, Julie's POV. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit. No worries.
Author's Note: Thanks so much, everyone, for the happy feedback on the previous chapter! I'm glad you're all enjoying Julie & Gunnar's little reunion. Now here's another chapter that was ready for posting sooner than anticipated. I expect Chapter 6 will take a little longer, however, since I still have a lot of work to do on that one. But for now, do enjoy as our characters witness some of Iceland's natural beauty and have a couple of good heart-to-heart talks in the process.
Sympathy for the Icelanders: Epilogue
Christmas Surprises – Chapter 5
Day five of my trip to Iceland was when we planned to go sightseeing in the open country. The weather was forecasted to be fairly agreeable, although I think it still took a valiant effort on Gunnar's part to convince his father that we would be safe driving by ourselves. I borrowed a pair of adequately-fitting snow boots from Elina, and we bundled ourselves up good that morning, leaving the house on a schedule that would hopefully get us to our destination at the peak of what minimal daylight was available. Gunnar proudly announced that he was taking me to see the most popular of Iceland's many waterfalls – Gullfoss.
The sky was overcast but not threatening, and there was definitely more snow as we moved farther inland, away from the oceanic currents which kept Iceland's coasts relatively temperate. Being from Maine, I was far more accustomed to omnipresent trees than the endless rocks that constituted most of the Icelandic interior. I also saw lots of colorful horses outside during the early part of our drive, without a single barn in sight to offer shelter. As a girl, of course I was worried for the ponies.
"Aren't they cold?" I demanded.
Gunnar shook his head, unconcerned. "Icelandic horses are tough. When their hair gets thick, they can stay warm on the coldest days, even better than we could in the best jackets."
On our way to the waterfall, we first made a stop at Thingvellir National Park, which would have been worth the trip in and of itself. The Park's main feature was a huge lake right in the center, covered in a solid layer of ice at this time of year. Thingvellir was also notable for being the site of the very first Parliament in history, more than a thousand years ago. Gunnar and I even walked through the same canyon where Iceland's Viking inhabitants would gather every year to review and make amendments to the nation's laws.
Until he told me, I had no idea that we were actually standing right on top of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, which passes through the whole of Iceland. The earth's American and Eurasian tectonic plates are slowly drifting apart, resulting in geological activity that produces an abundance of earthquakes and volcanoes across the country. Gunnar spoke about it with a nonchalance that I found admirable but couldn't possibly duplicate. Personally, I was more than a little freaked out by the thought of what might be taking place just beneath our feet.
Then, finally, we were off to Gullfoss. The drive was long, and as we approached the falls on foot after parking the car, it was the coldest I had been so far on my trip. But the view was totally worth it!
Gullfoss was a spectacular three-tiered waterfall, over which the river even changed direction briefly before continuing past the second "step". While glacial gray-green water still flowed through where the current was strongest, everything was crystalized and frozen along the banks. In some areas, it looked like the water had frozen in mid-motion. Naturally, I took an abundance of pictures, but doubtless none of them would quite capture the full majesty of that place.
Mist rising up from the falls instantly froze not only on our hats and scarves, but in our hair and on our eyelashes too. Gunnar moved to stand close behind me with both arms wrapped around my waist, and I'm not sure which sensation impressed me more – the breathtaking vista in front of me, or the strong, steady presence at my back. Oh, how I wished Connie could see us now!
"It's beautiful," I breathed at last, turning around to face him. "This whole country is just wild and beautiful and free."
He used his thumb to brush some of the miniscule ice crystals off my cheek. "My brother would say that there is a lot to see in Iceland; but once you've seen it, there is not much left to actually do. In a way, I suppose he's right."
Which is probably why he became so immersed in athletics, I realized; he simply didn't know what else to do with himself. Aloud I said, "I get the impression Mikael was more than ready to move away when he was old enough."
"He is…" Gunnar faltered, searching for the right word. "He cannot stay still in one place for a long time."
"You mean he's restless?" I supplied, to which he nodded. "And do you feel the same way?"
"I am not…eager to be gone, like he always was. I love Iceland, and it is my home; but I think I would be willing to leave if I had to. And I probably will have to leave if I want to play professional hockey."
That much was true. I just hoped he didn't end up even farther away from me than he already was.
"Do you miss Mikael?" I tried, feeling a little bold.
At first I thought Gunnar might not answer me, but eventually he did speak. "He is nearly six years older than I am, so we were never really close…but it is very different here since he left. He's been gone for almost four years, and I have only seen him twice since then – three times, including Los Angeles. I suppose I do miss him, sometimes, and I wish he would come back to visit more often."
Then there was another long pause, as though he was debating whether or not to go on. When he finally did, his words were almost lost amidst the thundering waters. "What really hurts is that I don't think he misses us."
Oh, wow. What was I supposed to say to that? I gently squeezed his forearms with my gloved hands. "I'm sure he does; he just needs more space than other people, like you said. He obviously cares about you a lot, to have arranged my whole trip up here. I hope I can meet him in person someday."
I stood on my tip-toes so he could kiss me without bending over this time and was rewarded with his most passionate display of affection to date, while the waterfall roared on behind us.
After Gullfoss, it wasn't far to another geothermal area where we would see the active geyser Strokkur; it was like Iceland's version of Old Faithful at Yellowstone. Gunnar informed me that this was also the site of the great original Geysir, from which our English word "geyser" is derived, though it was no longer active.
I had never been to Yellowstone, so it was a novel experience for me to watch Strokkur "breathing" until it finally climaxed in a giant bubble, and boiling hot water exploded skyward. I likewise quickly understood why we weren't standing downwind.
Gunnar had been telling me about various glaciers and volcanoes over the course of the day. I found it quaint that he persistently referred to the glaciers as being male and the volcanoes as being female; I suppose the correlation was a fitting one. Now he explained that, if the weather conditions had been clearer, we probably could have seen one of the glaciers from our present location; we were also fairly close to Iceland's most active volcano, Mount Hekla. Back in the Middle Ages, Hekla was believed to be the entrance to hell.
"What would the volcano look like if we could be there right now?" I asked impulsively.
"Right now? I'm sure there would be lots of snow and, as always, lots of rocks and ashes."
"Ashes?" I reiterated. "Wouldn't those have all blown away after a while?"
"Not when the ashes are this big." He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger the size of a large marble, and I shuddered to think of what it would be like to have such "ashes" falling out of the sky while they were still glowing hot.
Gunnar continued, "It is a gray, empty wasteland around Hekla – just the wind and the stones. When you're there, you feel like there is nothing else alive for as far as you can see; and you can see a long way, if you go up the mountain at all. But in her own way, Hekla is just as beautiful as Gullfoss."
"I have to go to practice tomorrow morning," Gunnar told me as we drove back to Reykjavik.
"You mean a real team practice, not just skating around for fun this time?" I hadn't thought about that possibility before.
He nodded. "Do you want to come along and watch? You don't have to, really."
"No thanks, I think I'll just stay at home and keep Halli company until you get back. I wouldn't want to be a distraction."
We both knew there was more to it than that, however. I had mentally prepared myself for an encounter with Sanderson, and that obstacle was now safely behind me. But I had given no thought whatsoever to what I might do if I came across Wolf Stansson during my time in Iceland; it was not a happy prospect!
Prompted by that thought, I asked cautiously, "Does your coach know I'm here?"
"I don't believe so. My friends have all promised not to tell him."
"That's good; let's just hope you don't have any enemies."
I was by far more worried for Gunnar if Stansson should find out about our relationship than for myself, yet I still couldn't help feeling a little ashamed somehow. Gunnar had spoken openly about me to his friends, whereas I hadn't even mentioned Gunnar Stahl's name to a single Duck besides Connie.
I resumed talking in order to silence my conscience. "This does remind me about something I've been meaning to ask you. Back during the Games, Coach Bombay apparently went out on an ice cream date with the trainer from your team. Did you guys know about that?"
"Yah, we heard about it. Coach wasn't too happy, but Marria can take care of herself."
"And what about the rest of you? Weren't you guys upset? I mean, my team totally freaked when they found out; they thought it was nothing short of treason."
"It didn't bother us too much that she had gone on a date; we were just mad that she had gotten ice cream."
He was smiling openly at the memory now, and in spite of all my inner conflicts, my face couldn't help mirroring his. "You mean Coach Stansson was monitoring your food, too, on top of everything else?" No surprise there, the big control freak.
"That's right," he confirmed. "We had not eaten anything like ice cream in probably four months."
"That's so sad, because ice cream is so wonderful."
"It is. I heard that the day after the Championship, when you and I were together, the rest of my teammates each bought large containers of ice cream and ate all of it at once back in their dorms. I found empty bottles of chocolate syrup afterwards, too."
I laughed. "Oh, that's too funny! Drowning their sorrows in ice cream and rebelling against their coach at the same time. I'm almost sorry you had to miss out."
"Don't be sorry; I had a much better time with you that day. Besides, Mikael and I tried 'deep fried ice cream' at a Mexican restaurant the next day, and it was very good." Gunnar's expression suddenly sobered. "Julie, do you ask about Marria and your coach because you worry about what your friends think of us?"
And then the guilt came rushing back to me like an old, unwanted boomerang. "Actually, Gunnar…Connie is still the only one of my teammates who knows that I'm here right now – or that you and I have even been talking to each other since last summer."
He didn't say anything, but by the way he kept his eyes set straight on the road ahead, I could tell my confession had hurt him.
"Not because I'm ashamed of us," I hurried to explain, "not at all! It's just that…well, I didn't know how strong our relationship really was at first. And I was afraid that, if I told them, they might gang up on me and convince me that it was stupid to try and date someone from Iceland. But, Gunnar, now that you and I have had more time together, I promise I'm going to tell them everything as soon as I get back. Because no matter how hard they try or how many times they tell me I'm crazy, they can't tell me that this whole amazing trip didn't happen – or that you don't really care about me."
He still didn't reply, which worried me for a moment; but I must have said something right, because he silently reached over and clasped my smaller hand firmly in his own.
We were supposed to be watching a movie that night, as a way of relaxing after our adventure out in the countryside. But sitting there together on the couch, cuddled up close under a blanket, we were obviously more interested in each other than in whatever was playing. I tangled my fingers in his hair while we kissed – because, honestly, how could I not? When he finally gave me a chance to breathe again, I left one hand there, still playfully stroking through the soft hair I'd come to adore…until something caught my eye.
At first I thought it might be the dim light playing tricks on me, but there was definitely a thin white scar running along Gunnar's hairline near his temple. Intrigued, I pushed his hair aside so I could see better and traced the mark with my fingers.
"What happened here?"
It took him a moment to realize what I was asking about before he explained, "Olaf and I were playing hockey one time when we were much younger, and we were not wearing helmets." I could see where this story was going. "He hit me in the head with a puck – on accident, of course. It bled a lot and needed a few stitches, but it wasn't bad. Mother would say we learned our lesson."
Feeling a little childish, I sat up and gave the scar a quick kiss. "I'm glad it wasn't worse. You could have had a tooth knocked out or something."
He only grinned at that, causing my heart to speed up like it always did whenever he smiled at me. "There is always a chance of that when you play hockey."
"Yeah, I know, and it's like a battle scar. But still, I hope your teeth can all survive your hockey career, however long that may be; you have such a nice smile, Gunnar."
He really did; it simultaneously brightened his countenance and softened his features in a way that I'd not seen until our last day together in Los Angeles. Rather than responding, he reached behind my hair and started gently massaging the back of my neck. My eyelids fluttered shut as my muscles relaxed under his hand. Now that felt good! But I could hardly complain when he pulled my hair back and kissed my neck instead, right under the ear, making me smile and hum with pleasure. Good thing I had brought those turtlenecks like Connie suggested.
I truly hadn't meant to, but I must have accidentally fallen asleep later on while resting so contentedly against him. Because the next thing I knew, my sleepy eyes were blinking awake, and the entire house was quiet and dark. Gunnar was still there under the blanket with me, Halli now lying asleep on his other side. I couldn't be sure if he was awake or not, until I felt him tenderly kiss the top of my head.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up." I hated how my voice must have sounded, still groggy and thick with sleep. "Why didn't you wake me?"
His hand gently rubbed up and down my shoulder. "This brought back good memories."
Initially, I drew a blank. Memories? What memories? Then ah, yes, of course – our night in the storage room. "I'm glad you can look back on that as a good memory, although I'm certainly happy that it happened now, too. Do you want to stay here?"
"If you do, yes."
I laid my head back on his shoulder without another word, and we stayed there like that for the rest of the night. He was just as warm and comfortable a pillow now as he had been back then.