In the blissful afterglow of their lovemaking, he had said the three words that had been secretly stalking him for weeks. Without realising it, he had been slayed by those words, and by the truth they represented.
Thankfully, Runar had made his declaration in the Sami language. Not a deliberate choice. He had been too overwhelmed with lust and affection to think clearly, and his mother’s language had come naturally to him. But he was grateful Embla was still blissfully unaware of his devotion.
Not because he did not mean it, but because he should not have said it.
He had spoken the words once before, to Gertrud, and without his realising, they had become like a tether dragging her home with him.
It was a mistake, and it had taken Gertrud only one look at his cabin to understand she did not return his feelings. Love was not enough to keep someone here; they had to choose it for themselves. He had sworn never again to bind a woman with words of love, even unknowingly.
It was not fair to either of them.
He would have to be more careful in future. Loving Embla was as easy and as natural as breathing. But keeping her would be almost impossible. He had seen her cry over her nephews; she missed them badly, and how could he compete with that love?
However, he could not help himself from wanting more. Especially not after the pleasures they had already shared. He was honoured to have her as his woman, even if it were only for a short time. When spring arrived, it would feel like cutting off a limb to be parted from her, and yet he would suffer the pain gladly for the precious memories it would give.
How much longer did they have left?
They were in the peak of winter now, and the weather seemed unusually mild. Even the blizzard had only kept them indoors for a couple of days.
The thaw would probably come sooner than usual. A handful of weeks at best, but it tempered his steely determination to win her, and not just with the pleasures of the bedchamber—although they were many.
It might sound odd, but bringing home a boar was part of his plan to keep her. If she could not enjoy her usual Yuletide in Gudvangen, then he would bring it to her, show her that he could provide her with as much as any settlement could.
Pork was the traditional Yuletide meat, and although he had no pigs, he was determined to find a wild boar. Except they seemed to be scarce this year, and he had not seen any of their tracks, no matter how hard he searched. There were tracks for reindeer, red deer, hares, and wolves. But not a single sign of the forked trotter he was after, and he would accept nothing less.
He trudged through countless snowdrifts, searched caves and tree roots for their burrows, but found nothing. It had been a hopeless search for over a week, and he had decided that if he did not find one by the following day, he would bring home a deer instead.
Embla was almost ready for their feast, and had been preparing dishes for days. He could not wait much longer, as her hard work and decorations would spoil. She had said several times that she did not mind what meat he brought home. Her only stipulation had been that he always returned home well before dark—she did not like to think of him being out in the darkness alone.
It was his own stubborn determination that kept him outside hunting fruitlessly for so long. Desperate to please her, and remind her, that with him she could have anything she wanted.
Except her family.
Pausing to catch his breath, he stared around him at the frozen and unforgiving landscape.
I want to be her family,he admitted to the sleeping trees.
Surely, he would be a better life companion for her then those idiots back in Gudvangen? The more he spoke with Embla, the more he realised how overlooked she was by the very people she cared for most. It infuriated him, especially as he would have given his front teeth to have her stay with him.
He wouldn’t treat her as a servant like they did; he would cherish and support her. She had worked hard helping him with the cabin, and being with her felt like a harmonious partnership. The things he struggled with, like cooking and conversation, were easy for her, and in return, he provided the ingredients she needed to work her magic. He hoped that she felt independent and appreciated in his home, because without her there would be no warmth or joy to be had.
The twilight was pouring into the sky, turning it into a deep shade of blue from the cosmos above, washing away the grey light and allowing the stars to glitter through the darker shades above the falling sun. He was about to turn back when he noticed little marks in the snow leading up towards a thick crop of trees and a craggy group of icy boulders.
It was the tracks he had been searching for, trotters shuffling and hopping through the snow, foraging for vegetation or whatever was within easy reach. His heart leaped, and he smiled as he clenched his axe and spear more tightly.
The gods were smiling on him, and even though it was growing dark, he was resolved to bring home the perfect midwinter feast for the woman that held his heart.
Embla hummed to herself as she finished kneading the bread and placed it on a damp cloth ready to be cooked. Sten lay in his usual spot in front of the fire, and she smiled at his loud snoring.
‘There! All ready!’ she declared with a satisfied sigh, and then went to sit with her sewing while she waited for Runar to return. The flatbreads would be cooked on the lid of the stew, but she would wait until he was home before putting them on.
She worked on her sewing, occasionally getting up to stir the cauldron, but when the darkness outside smothered the longhouse in shadows, she began to worry.
‘What has kept him out for so long?’ she asked Sten, who seemed to huff in disgruntled agreement.
Standing on one of the chests, she peeked her head out of the linen-covered window, and shivered as the icy wind rushed over her face. She closed the shutters with a bang and hopped down, half hoping that wherever Runar was, he might hear the resentful slam and rush back to her full of apology.
Even if he wasn’t sorry, she would still be relieved.
