“Are these yours?” Amazement fills Aura’s tone, accompanied by the fluttering sounds of parchment through the open door.
Calder leans against the door frame to silently observe their exchange.
“Uh, yes, they are. I usually don’t show people.” He lays the book before her and flips through a few pages. “This is a skunk that passed by here yesterday. Do you draw, Aura?”
“All of the time!” She collects her sketchbook from a low table and settles on the deck floor beside his chair. “I love drawing minks, but any animal willing to sit long enough to let me recreate its appearance will do. Oh, and some people,” she adds when he turns the page.
“These are beautiful. Wait, is that Calder?” Argnier thumbs through a few more pages full of him. “If I might say, I think you are enamored with our Jarl.”
“Is it that obvious?” Her cheeks blush.
“Child,” he rubs her shoulder. “If my old eyes can see it, then yes.”
“Am I just a silly little girl?” She peers into her hands, which are clutched in her lap. “Is this affection one-sided, and am I only a young distraction? For every moment I share with Calder, he seems to need ten more to distance himself from me.” Aura nibbles on her bottom lip. “All I can hear is my father’s disapproval.” She laughs nervously. “I apologize. You did not ask to hear me speak of my woes.”
“Say what you want, and I will listen. But first, you must hear me. You are a silly girl, but not about your feelings. He cares for you in a way I have never seen. I thought he slept with his axe if you ask me.” He chuckles again at his own joke.
I would never abandon you, my Princess. I would go to the Abyss and back before letting you go.
Calder sits quietly on a chair behind them, careful not to interrupt. There is something about Aura that seems to soften that curmudgeon.
After wiping away his happy tears, Argnier continues. “It is hard to make a parent hate a child. Unless you’re Calder.” He coughs while attempting to chortle. “Sorry about that, and I’ll stop making jokes about him.” He nudges her arm. “You can laugh. I’m trying to make this more lighthearted. But I must say, you have that giant man wrapped around your tiny tattooed finger.”
She encases Argnier in a tight hug. “Thank you, Uncle Argnier. I did not realize how much I needed someone to tell me that.” She sits back on her knees. “What do you think of my drawings? I am untrained compared to someone such as yourself.”
“Your artwork impresses me. I think Calder needs to frame them in the castle. He has too many bare walls, and this place is huge.” He glances at her sketchbook. “Child, I’m untrained too, but when you have lived as long as I have, you get really good at the things that matter to you. Just like listening to a conversation no one invited you to.” He waves Calder forward without turning around.
“I did not mean to intrude on your pleasant time.” Calder settles next to Aura on the deck with a faint groan at the ache in his lower back. “Are you ready to see the mink family?”
“You should join us, Argnier.” Aura smiles. “I would be honored to see your artistry first-hand.”
“I would love to!” He jumps off the chair and bends over. “Shit, my back didn’t agree with the jump.” He stands straight with a crack. “All right,nowI am ready.”
“They are not far, just over the hill by the stream.” Calder helps Aura up.
The trio leaves a note for Edmund, Gunni, and Thora before trekking into the evergreen forest. Ever since the last time Thora and Gunni had snuck off to fornicate in the woods for hours, their misfit group established a communication pact to eliminate any further late nights. The last one involved scouring the woods, fearing a wolf had eaten someone.
They hike behind the keep, trudging through the thick snowfall from the previous night. In the distance, the trickling of a stream welcomes them into the mink territory.
Both Aura and Argnier crouch low behind the shade of a fallen tree, as a snowy owl flies overhead, clutching a hare in its talons before landing in its nest. Their hands dance over their pages with slight parts to their mouths as they capture different, yet breathtaking views of the bird of prey.
Even when they finish, they remain seated in the snow, examining the creature.
“My father used to take us into the forest at night, calling for the owls so we could see them.” Aura smiles softly to herself.
“Aye, same as Hilmir did for us and Thord did for his boys.” Argnier nods.
“What was Grandpa Hilmir like? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Well, I didn’t get to know him long. He died when I was about thirteen winters. But he was stern and loving. He would whoop your ass in training but cook us a delicious meal as he told us tales of his youth.”
“I’m so sorry. I cannot imagine losing my father that young. Even if perhaps I am a loss to him.”
“My brother took over as my father, or at least he attempted to. Even if we didn’t always see eye-to-eye, Thord was a complicated man.” He chuckles, “I always said his head was full of hot air. I guess he won that argument. He should have been able to float his fat head off that rooftop in the Ridge after old Ceowald shoved him off. I’m just kidding! Thord could be an ass, but he didn’t deservethatend.” A dark sadness settles over him.
Calder coughs at the jest.
“What's the matter? Can’t you take a joke, Ice Prick?” He smiles with a shit-eating grin. “But we could never agree, and he exiled me from Salt.”
