.: Níu :.
My Little One is changing.
More often, I see her gaze go unfocused, traveling toward the mountain or out to the sea. I will come in from the bitter cold, seeking the warmth of my love, only to find her mind distant, lost to a world she keeps secret. It is as if she's waiting for something—someone.
Her thoughts rarely linger, though, and I find that as soon as I reach out to her, she is herself again—warm, loving, quietly radiating strength.
I do not bring up these changes to her because I don't want her to worry. I know our winters can take a toll on the mind, and I suspect that this is what is happening.
To bring my Little One as much joy as I can, I reach for her as often as possible.
This seems to please her. Her touch is as loving and responsive as ever. Sometimes I can feel her squeeze my outstretched hand, as if she's grateful for the anchor I'm trying to offer her.
Tove and Erik come to visit, and for a time, their presence brings new light and joy back into our home and into my Little One. I must admit it is lonesome living without my mother, brother, cousin, and his family. It is the one thing I miss of our old home.
But seeing how my love lights up when she speaks with her family, I feel a determination in my heart. Come the warm weather, I will work with Egil to build a steady path between our homes, one that will aid us traveling in the winter.
As soon as my Little One and Tove disappear, I invite Erik to sit with me near the fire. I see surprise on the boy's face then a proud smile as he settles beside me. Ebba brings us both large cups of ale, which only seems to please young Erik more.
"How is your master?" I ask, once we've taken our first sips.
Erik looks up at me, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "He is of good health," he informs me.
I nod. "And the rest of his house?"
He hesitates, his eyes darting around the room. I know he would never speak ill of his family, but I can see something weighs heavy on his heart. I lean toward him, catching his gaze with my own.
"What you speak to me will be in confidence," I tell him quietly. "You can trust me."
He takes a long sip of his ale before nodding. "We are all tired," he says quietly. "We've no thralls left to help us with the work. It has been difficult, and I fear it will only get worse."
I feel an immediate pang in my heart, seeing the burden that sits on this young man's shoulders.
"We will help you," I say immediately, knowing without having to ask that my Little One will be in agreement with me.
"S-sir?" Erik asks, looking up at me uncertainly.
"Your family is now my kin. We will help." I intentionally include Erik, even though he holds the title of thrall. Erik has been part of their family so long, I know Egil thinks of him often as a son.
I make up my mind to send Wystan with them when they return home, just to help them through the winter.
Erik has tears in his eyes as he looks up at me, and I watch his thin chest suck in a deep breath.
"Thank you, sir. Your generosity will be much appreciated by my master."
I smile at him, even though he is not looking my way, and when Wystan comes in, I wave him over to sit with us, trying to let the two young men become acquainted.
Our conversation turns to lighter things, and soon there is a merriment and laughter in the house that I have long since craved.
That night, though our guests sleep just outside our room, my Little One comes to me with a renewed hunger and passion that the dark days had been diminishing.
We fall asleep that night, exhausted and intertwined, our hearts beating as one.
…
Little One is lounging naked in a pool of sunlight, her hair shining and glinting so brightly, it looks gold.
"What did you mean?" I ask her, causing her to turn her head in my direction, her dark eyes opening lazily. "When you said you would one day be gone."
Little One hums. "Such a dreary topic," she complains. "I'd rather talk about all the times you've ravished me."
I ignore her jab. I would never betray my Little One like that.
"Who are you?"
I've asked her this many times, though she has not yet deigned to give me a straight answer.
She looks up at me, and for a moment, I can see who my Little One might become. But then she gives me a seductive smile, and the illusion is gone. My Little One does not need tricks to be enticing. She does not need to wield her beauty as power.
"Why do you come to me in my dreams?" I ask instead.
She blinks, as if she did not expect this question. "Because I want you," she says after a moment, shrugging her thin shoulders.
"But you cannot have me," I stress. "Why torment yourself?"
It appears I have struck a chord with her, for she folds in on herself, her shoulders hunching, hair slipping over her body, covering her. She is like a flower, curling in on itself in the absence of the sun.
"I can't find mine," she says softly, so softly I'm not sure I hear her properly.
"Your what?"
She looks up at me, her arms wrapped around her knees as they move to her chest. I realize we are sitting in a meadow somewhere, and I shift closer to her, instinctually wanting to help her.
"I can't find him. He's lost and I can't…" Unexpectedly, she begins to weep, and my heart aches. She might not be my Little One, but I cannot see this Little One suffer.
I pull her into my arms, and she curls against me, her tear-stained cheeks pressing to my chest.
"He's lost and I cannot find him," she sobs. "How will I find him?"
For the first time, I realize just how lost she is. That underneath her sexual games and advances, she comes to me because she is heartbroken, frightened, and lonely.
No version of my Little One should ever feel such things.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, trying to provide comfort that will not cross lines in myself. She is small and vulnerable in my arms, and I ache to think that any of this girl's desolation could ever exist in my Little One as well.
I open my mouth, perhaps to speak, perhaps to cry with her, but in a moment, she's gone, and I am standing upon a cliff, looking out onto angry waters.
I feel a presence step beside me, and I turn to see a new Bella at my side. She is a little older than my wife, but she is clothed unlike the other.
"Who are you?" I ask.
She looks up at me, and I'm surprised to see the power behind her gaze. This is no ordinary woman.
"Follow your heart," she says softly.
"My Little One is my heart," I tell her.
She nods. "Do not falter. She will need you. The time is almost here."
I open my mouth to ask what this strange advice means, when there is a crack above us, and then snow is tumbling down, swirling around us and blotting out my dream.
When I wake, I'm cold and trembling as I reach for my love, pulling her tighter to me.
…
It is a long winter.
For a time, I fear I'm starting to lose my Little One to the darkness, though we spend most of our time wrapped together in our bed. I can feel her distant mind, sense that something is not quite right with her. I wish I knew how to help her.
When the sun returns, I feel hope bloom, reborn.
My Little One comes to find me, and when I bring her to our bed, she tastes of sunshine and life.
Idly, I have wondered if she is with child. I have not asked because she has not seemed to be of a mind to bring it up, but when she confirms this for me, I cannot stop myself from stripping her down.
Her body has certainly changed, and there, at her belly is a new firmness. A child, our child.
I am lost to absolute joy. Long have I dreamt of my own family, one whom I should build with a strong woman at my side. Never in my deepest of dreams, could I have hoped for a woman even a fraction of my Little One. I am a man blessed many times over.
I cannot stop touching my Little One. Even after she falls asleep, exhausted from our lovemaking, my hands roam her stomach, caressing with the gentlest touch I can manage.
"Hello, my tiny treasure," I whisper, pressing a kiss to her warm stomach. "I shall teach you what it means to have strength, but you shall learn from your mother what it means to be strong. I shall teach you wisdom, but your mother shall show you how to be wise. I shall give you all that I am, and it will be nothing compared to what your mother will be able to give you." I press another kiss to her belly, blinking back tears. "You will be loved, cherished above all else. You will be our Little One, and nothing, not even the gods themselves, could ever stop us from loving you so completely." I lean my head against her stomach, my eyes shutting. "I vow upon my own life that I will always be there for you. Through ailment and health, through victory and defeat, you shall be loved… treasured…" I stop, my heart lodging into my throat as I think of the feelings that cannot be put to words, the sheer vastness of my love for my child and the woman carrying it.
"All that I am is for you two, and I will do anything and everything I need to protect you, even if that means defying death itself." I take a shuddering breath, releasing it as my arms come around my Little One. "You both are everything," I whisper. "And I will not fail you."