Hi, Little Ones!
Welcome back! I'm so glad you are all enjoying EPOV so far. As I said previously, there are far fewer of his chapters, so they will condense quite a lot of information in each one.
Thank you to Mel, Jill, and Paige!
.: Tveir :.
Though our farmstead is not big, it feels much smaller after Bella comes to us. There is seemingly nowhere I can go without seeing her or hearing about her from my family. She is inescapable.
"Did you see the look of defiance on her face when Mother spoke to her?" Josurr says, chuckling. Arni snorts as the three of us work on removing a felled tree from the pasture.
"She had fire in her eyes," Arni agrees.
"Enough," I command, snapping at them.
They both eye me warily. I've been unnecessarily strict since Bella's arrival. I know I've been harsh with everyone, but I do not know what else to do. Something about Bella sparks urgency within me. I need to protect her, need to hurry and figure out what to do about her. I've forbidden Josurr from speaking to her, for fear he will give into any physical urges. I do not think he'd harm her, but if I am honest with myself, the thought of any man even looking at her moves me to a fit of blind jealousy.
I want to hide her away, take her to a quiet place, until I know what to do with her.
Each day that passes, I grow more and more agitated, and my family begins to laugh at me for it. That is, everyone but my mother. She only has negative things to tell me.
I know it is a great burden on her to have Bella—who does not speak our language and lacks any sort of basic skills for farming—with her every day. But I trust my mother to keep Bella safe, and right now, that is my priority.
I try not to give into temptation too often, but sometimes it cannot be helped. Just sitting next to her at dinner is sometimes enough to spark my heart into a frantic, desperate rhythm.
Time does begin to help, and though my pulse thrums in my chest when I see her, it eventually becomes easier to think with any clarity when she is near.
The household falls into a new rhythm, and Bella thrums like a heart at the core of it.
…
I wake one morning to an unexpected slaughtered chicken. Though it is known to happen on occasion, upon examination of the carcass, I cannot with certainty assume this was done by any wild animal.
It sets me on edge, and though I go about the day as normal, after supper I take the carcass to the woods, intent to seek answers from the runes.
If there is malice hunting these lands, I'd rather know about it now.
My work with the runes is often simple: a farmer utilizing the tool of divine help. I know the practice can run much deeper and darker than my purposes, but I know such magics are forbidden.
It is not for humans to play as the gods.
When I am deep enough into the woods, I set down the carcass of the chicken, pulling the runes out from a leather pouch at my waist.
I begin calling upon the runes when I hear frantic footsteps in the forest. I spin, and Bella flings herself toward me, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her arms wrap around me, and on instinct, I bring my own around her, holding her to me. She is muttering against my chest, her body trembling.
"Bella," I say softly, pulling back enough to cup her face in my hands. She gazes up at me, and the trust in her eyes steals the breath from my body. "What is it, Little One?"
Her lips tremble. "I walk…" she starts, her voice stumbling over my language. "Birds," she says, pointing up.
I understand her immediately.
"You were lost," I say softly.
She says something to me in her own tongue, her voice quivering.
"Oh, Little One." I sigh, brushing the tears from her cheeks.
I realize with aching awareness that this is the first time we've truly been alone together. Other times, my family has known I was with her, but now… now no one is the wiser.
How I yearn to lean in and taste her.
I can see it in her gaze as her wide eyes focus on me, see her matched hunger and desire, and I'm spurred on by it.
She wants me too.
I shift to kiss her, but then her body goes stiff. Her eyes flicker beyond me to the chicken and the runes and then back to me, and I see the fear in her gaze. Before I can say anything, she's sprinting away from me.
I swear and tear after her, desperate to make her understand. If she is familiar with magic, I need her to know that we do not use the forbidden seiðr. She has no reason to fear.
She's as quick as a rabbit, but I know these woods, and it does not take long for me to overtake her.
I wrap her in my arms, trying to slow her down. "Bella," I say softly. "Little One, please."
She is hysterical, seemingly mad at the mere sight of the runes. She is thrashing about in my arms so violently, I fear she will hurt herself.
Before I can still her, I feel her body start to slacken, and before I can shift her in my arms, she goes limp.
Swearing, I move her so that it's easier to carry her out of the forest.
"Oh, Little One." I groan as I make my way home. "Why do you fight me?"
My heart is racing, hoping that all is well with her.
I make it back to the farmstead, taking her straight away to her bedroll. "Eydís!" I shout as I set Bella down. Mother appears beside me, shooing me out of her way as she takes in Bella.
"What have you done now?" She growls, putting a hand to Bella's neck.
I ignore her goading tone. "Is she all right?"
Mother places her hand on Bella's forehead before she glances at me. "Yes," she says after a moment. "She will be fine."
I watch my mother's face pull into a tight frown, and I know what she's thinking.
"She's not weak," I say quietly. Mother looks at me and I motion with my head toward Bella. "She's much stronger than you give her credit for."
Mother scowls, her eyes landing on Bella.
"She's still barely capable," Mother grumbles. I hide my smile. Mother will continue to complain, if for no other reason than Bella represents a very real problem. Our family is set to finally make new lives in Iceland in only a matter of days now, but still we cannot afford passage for Bella.
No one has come to claim her, and based on her lack of practical skills, I doubt she was a thrall at all, though she has become one since being taken in by my family. What I wouldn't give to just bring her as a free woman to Iceland, but there are too many variables. She would have no family, no support to lean on unless she joins my household.
My eyes land on her soft cheeks, her full lips slightly parted as she breathes, and I wince.
Never could I look upon her as I would a sister. It's far too late for that, which means my options are limited.
Mother sees my thoughts spinning uselessly once more and she shakes her head, shoving me lightly. I look at her in surprise.
"Go," she commands, her voice soft. "Let her sleep and let your head find peace."
I swallow thickly but then turn, following her advice.
…
I sleep fitfully, but eventually sleep does find me. It is unfortunate because the one night I'm sleeping too deeply to be roused by a noise, Bella tries to escape.
I know she's tried because Mother tells me as soon as I'm awake. For a moment, my heart is frantic, wild with fear, but then she tells me Josurr has gone after her, and I force myself to breathe.
I trust my brother, even if I loathe the idea of him alone with her.
Instead of wallowing in my madness, I get dressed and head outside to tend to the chores. There is much to be done around the farmstead, and though I want to spend time going after Bella, I don't have such a luxury.
It isn't until the evening that Bella comes to find me. I'm wary of her appearance, wondering if she's come to shout at me. I know I frightened her last night.
Though I'm not sure why she was frightened yet.
I turn to look at her, but her face gives nothing away. She steps toward me, taking a deep breath. She begins speaking, and though I don't know what it is she says, I appreciate the melody of her voice, the way her voice hitches ever so slightly over my name. No one says my name the way she does, and I cannot get enough of it.
Her voice pours over me, smooth as honey wine, and I cannot help myself from moving right in front of her. Her eyes are away from me, and when she looks back to me, I can see her surprise at how close I am.
I do not care.
Tears are filling her eyes, and I reach out, brushing them away as they spill over her creamy cheeks.
"Bella." I cannot stop her name from slipping past my lips. "Bella." It is a plea… a prayer… the deepest gratitude.
Lifetimes of longing and passion seem to be poured into her name, and when she whispers my name back to me, I am met with a hope so bright, it blinds me.
My fingers brush over her cheeks, unable to stop now that I've let myself have this contact. I need to touch her, need to hold her.
She is precious.
"What spell have you cast over me, Little One?" I breathe, my head dipping slightly toward her. "What powers over my soul do you hold?"
Her small fists curl around my tunic, and it is like she's holding my heart in her palms.
She speaks again, and my mind cannot help but wonder what she might sound like, wrapped in my arms.
I would have her forever… for always…
"Little One," I breathe, wanting to utter dangerous words. I want to tell her I will find a way to free her, even though I have not the money for it. I want to tell her that I will worship at her feet for the rest of our lives, so long as she lets me.
I want to promise her wild, reckless things that are not in my power to promise.
Little One is calling to something in me—something ancient and hidden and lost—but yet she beckons to it, like a siren calling to a passing ship.
And like all true sailors, I am powerless to ignore her call.
…
The intimacy between Bella and me has started growing, and though I often see her blush and shy away from it once it's started, I cannot hide how I feel.
I fear it is painted across my face how utterly and completely gone I am over her.
These feelings only increase when she begins to learn my language.
Unbeknownst to her though, I too am learning.
Little One speaks in her sleep.
Sometimes, it is quiet, a word muttered in passing. Sometimes it is enough to wake the children.
I find myself most nights moving to sit beside her bed, listening to her sweet voice as she whispers unfamiliar words. I have no idea what it is she says, but I enjoy the melody of her voice all the same.
One night, she says my name.
It is not more than a sigh, a beat of a butterfly's wing on the wind, and yet my world is leveled by it.
She dreams of me.
It is this night I know, with all that I am, I will find a way to free her. I will find a way to give her a strong family, a loving home, and enough wealth to keep her comfortable.
Then, gods willing, I will marry her.