Sten trotted out to greet him, and he patted his head affectionately. Usually he took Sten with him everywhere, but the dog was a good guard for Embla, and was lazy enough to enjoy a cold season in front of the fire without whining about it.
Embla turned as he entered, her eyes brightening as a welcoming smile spread across her face. ‘Did you catch anything?’
He shook his head. ‘Not today.’
‘Oh, well. We have plenty anyway. If you catch much more, I will need to smoke it,’ she replied cheerfully, turning the skewers of meat she had frying in a pan. It was the last of the venison he had caught two days ago. A pan of roasted vegetables seasoned with honey sat steaming on the table, as well as a pile of fresh flat breads.
His stomach rumbled, and he eagerly took a step forward.
‘Boots!’ she hissed, and he hopped on one foot as he struggled to kick them off.
Tutting crossly, she walked over and knelt at his feet. He tried to hide his smirk as she helped him ease off the boots and slip his feet into his fur-lined slippers.
His fingers itched to pull off the triangular scarf wrapped around her head. She had recently taken to tying back her hair, wrapping it up neatly with the scarf so nothing was visible. He missed seeing her golden locks.
Rising, she pushed him towards the table. ‘I’m almost ready.’
‘Thank you. It looks delicious.’
A rosy blush painted her cheeks as it always did when he complimented her.
‘It is nothing special,’ she mumbled.
‘It is a feast to me. Sometimes I would eat my meat straight from the bone, or go without if I failed to catch anything. I am lazy.’
She placed the sizzling skillet of skewers on the table beside him and took a seat on the chest opposite. ‘That cannot be true. You have plenty of food! You have so much pickled fish you must have spent your whole summer preparing them,andI found a large jar of honey in the back of your cold store. It must have been such a challenge for you to collect it!’
‘They are gifts from my mother,’ he admitted and she gave him a startled look, which only increased his embarrassment. He was a grown man, still being fed by the kindness of his mother. ‘I prefer to go hunting. I keep the stored food for when the weather gets really bad—when the snow is so thick, I struggle to make it from the longhouse to the barn and back.’
‘Oh,’ she said, looking down at their meal with a guilty expression. ‘Maybe I should be more cautious with our supplies?’
He shook his head vehemently. ‘Do not dare! I have never eaten so well. The weather has been mostly mild so far, so maybe this will be a gentler winter.’
She smiled at that and began to eat happily, and he joined her. She trusted him at his word, he realised, and it was an oddly comforting thought.
‘I think I should finish those chairs tonight. So, prepare to say a sad farewell to these chests,’ he teased, slapping the one beneath him firmly.
She grinned. ‘What a pity! I have grown so used to dragging them around the room. How will I fill my days?’
He chuckled at her dry tone. ‘I am sure you will prefer a chair eventually... I have heard they can be quite comfortable.’
They ate as they always did, with light humour and friendly chatter. Then he rose to take the dishes. It had always been his habit to clean them afterwards. He did not want her to think she was his servant, like she had that first day. She worked so hard on the cooking and cleaning of the cabin; it would be unfair to expect any more from her. The time of preparation alone did not compare to the mere moments he spent eating it all.
But tonight, she shook her head. ‘I would rather have a chair for tomorrow morning. You go and work on them. I will clean up.’
So he did as she asked, and it didn’t take him long to fix the final pieces to the chairs. They were not elaborate, but they were large and sturdy, and should last them well. Embla came out to check on his progress just as he hammered in the last nail. He had taken to using the porch that surrounded the cabin’s entrance as a workshop, as it was dry and sheltered and was now swept and clean.
‘All done! Wish to try them?’
Suspiciously, she asked, ‘Are you afraid they will break? Am I to be your first victim?’
He chuckled and stepped onto the seat of the one he had just completed. Then to be sure, he jumped on it before stepping back down. ‘See, they are perfectly strong and well built!’
She laughed at his silliness, and then carefully perched her bottom on the remaining chair. She gave him an appreciative nod, and then sank back against the wood with a relieved sigh. ‘Lovely!’
Pride bloomed in his heart, and he dropped down into his own chair with a smug smile. ‘The sky is clear tonight. I think the lights from the Bifrost will be strong. I can already see the beginning of them. Can you?’
She looked up at the sky and smiled. ‘It is a shame it is so cold. I love seeing the Northern Lights.’
