Oh. Of course. So Gaelfr had known Kalfr was in danger, and he’d sought to protect him, in the strongest way he could. By swearing this unbreakable lifelong vow to him, and therefore binding Kalfr to him, instead. And… to his bed, too.
The bile again surged in Raye’s throat, and her eyes snapped to Kalfr, to his still-blank face. “So you mean — you didn’t actuallywantthat, from Gaelfr?” she demanded. “You didn’t have a choice? You were forced to trade your — your attackers — forhim?!”
Her hand flailed toward Gaelfr, while her voice rang through the room, too loud and panicked. Because if that was really what had happened, if Gaelfr had essentially forced himself onto Kalfr,forever—
But Kalfr’s eyes snapped into focus again, wide and disbelieving on Raye’s face — and he rapidly shook his head, even as he stalked away from the bed, his hands dragging againsthis hair. “No,” he said, curt and flat, without looking at them. “Gael did not — force me. We were friends, best friends, and of course I wished for him, over this. I did not argue his vow, and swore the vow to him in return. It is only…”
Raye waited, her heart pounding, her eyes frozen on his stiff back. And she could feel Gaelfr’s attention on him too, could almost scent his dread and regret in the too-thick air.
“It is only,” Kalfr continued, his voice hitching, “that thus I could never —know, ach? I could never know who or what Gael might have chosen, without this. And he could never know what I might have chosen, either. And thus…”
He gave a tired wave of his hand, encompassing Gaelfr, Raye, himself. And suddenly there was only sadness, plunging heavy in Raye’s belly, because — of course. This was why they’d never trusted each other. Not now, and not back then, either. They’d both been pushed into this lifelong relationship with each other, and they’d never really known if it was true.
Gaelfr’s head bowed again, his clawed hands gripping tightly on his knees, and Raye could still taste his guilt, his grief, sick and rancid in the air. Suggesting that — none of this was a surprise to him, was it? He knew Kalfr had never trusted him, after that. He knew he needed to prove his worth to Kalfr, pay his penance, earn his love…
We shall gain Kalfr’s trust again. We shall address this, and help him, and heal him. I shall stay, but only so long as you keep the vow. We shall do all within our power…
That distant awareness was again scraping at Raye’s thoughts, clawing itself closer, and when she looked back at Kalfr again, her breaths felt ragged, her heartbeat skipping in her chest. And she fought for the vision of the goddess, the clarity and insight she’d felt on those altars, the shine of the silvery light, the blessing…
“Sothat’swhy you didn’t tell Gaelfr about me, back when we first met,” she said slowly. “That’s why you threatened to break your bond with him, for me. That’s why you didn’t send for him, once he left and went across the sea. And maybe” — her voice cracked — “maybe that’s even why you agreed to do that mission with Sybil, too.”
Kalfr cast a confused look toward her, and from the bed, Gaelfr’s head lifted up too, his eyes glassy, his brow furrowed. But Raye had something here, something important, and she forced her way down into that ever-present darkness, clutching at it, dragging it up toward the light…
“Because you’ve beentestingGaelfr, all this time,” she whispered, slow but certain. “You’ve been making him prove himself to you. Haven’t you?”
Kalfr blinked at her, the surprise flaring brighter across his eyes — and he slowly shook his head. Denying it, hiding it, pretending that he would never do such a thing…
But it only swept Raye’s certainty higher. She was doing this. She was proving this. Not for Kalfr, not for Gaelfr, not even for Svein, but — for herself. She wanted to… trust herself. Trust her own instincts, her own observations. Her own truth.
“You’ve been testing him, Kalfr,” she said, the certainty thudding through her voice. “You’ve been punishing him, and making him pay. Making him fight for you, and prove his vows to you.”
Kalfr’s head was still shaking, his body rigid, rebelling, refusing — but Raye stood firm. Stood in her trust, her truth, her light.
“I know, Kalfr,” she said, and she even smiled at him, sad and bitter and broken. “Because it’s exactly what you’ve done tome.”
60
Raye’s accusation rang through the room, heavy with certainty, and with… anger.
It’s exactly what you’ve done to me.
Kalfr and Gaelfr were both staring at her now, Gaelfr still with that deep furrow between his brows, Kalfr with… something else. Something too close to recognition, or even… fear.
“It’s not that I don’t understand why,” Raye told him, her voice surprisingly even. “We’ve all hurt each other, and made so many mistakes. And you faced something so horrible, so vile — and of course it’s still affecting you. Keeping you from trusting the people closest to you.”
Kalfr stared back at her, unmoving but for a twitch of his claws, and Raye squared her shoulders, stepped closer toward him. “But it isn’t fair to keep testing us like this,” she continued. “It isn’t fair to me, or to Gaelfr, or toyou.”
The certainty kept striking through her voice, strong enough to make Kalfr lurch a step back from her, shaking his head. Still denying it, maybe not even seeing it, not realizing he was doing it— and even as the grief of that cracked in Raye’s chest, she took another step toward him, her chin raised, her jaw set.
“Think about it, Kalfr,” she said. “Think about you and Gaelfr. How many ways have you tested him, since the start of all this? You met me and courted me, without him. You hid me from him. You swore vows to me, made a son with me, without him. And after everything blew up between us, you told Gaelfr you wouldn’t touch him again, without me. You ran him off, and didn’t send for him when you needed him. And when he finally came back, you were angry he didn’t come sooner. You expected him to bow and grovel and try to make it up to you, in any way he could.”
She was breathless by the end, but her eyes held steady on his, and she gulped down more air, more truth. “You wanted him to prove it,” she said flatly. “You wanted him to come to my cottage that night, and fight for you. You wanted him to barge in, and demand you keep your vow to him. You wanted him to come back to you, to guard you, comfort you,rescueyou.”
Kalfr betrayed a swallow, a glance toward Gaelfr on the bed, and Raye took another step closer to him, and clasped his stiff fingers in hers. “And even just now,” she continued, “you told me Gaelfr didn’t give you a choice back then, when he swore to be yourástvinur— but then you also said you wanted him, and chose to swear the vow back to him. And is there any chance —”
Her voice broke, but she made herself keep saying it, dragging up the darkness. “Is there any chance,” she began again, quiet now, “that even then, youwantedhim to barge in, too? You wanted him to take over, and make the choice for you, so you didn’t have to do it?”
Kalfr’s fingers spasmed in hers, his eyes flashing with something like shock, like recognition, like… guilt. And goddess, Raye knew that feeling so, so well, and she attempted a smile toward him, though it faltered on her lips. “I understand, ifthat’s what you wanted,” she said thickly. “Because I’ve done it too, haven’t I? But, if thatwasn’twhat you wanted, then maybe — maybe it’s time to finally face the truth, and make that hard choice for yourself, and decide to part ways with each other, for good. And that way, Gaelfr can move on too, and finally stop trying to pass your tests, and make up for something that you can never actually forgive.”
