He looked distinctly mollified, a smile curving at his mouth — at least, until they stepped outside the room, and found a wet-eyed Svein dashing out from below, and racing across the room toward them. “Mama!” he wailed, hurling both arms around her waist. “Papa Kalfr is beingmeanto me!”
Raye blinked, but drew Svein tight and close, while casting a searching glance toward where Kalfr had come up behind him,scenting of chagrin, and wearing a pained smile on his mouth. A sight that was becoming more familiar these days, and Raye drew back to look at Svein, to wipe the tears from his flushed cheeks. “Deep breaths, love,” she told him. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can —”
“He wouldn’t let me come upstairs!” Svein cut in, with another wail, and a furious wave of his hand toward Kalfr. “He made me wait down there, instead of coming up to see you and Papa Gael!”
Ah. Raye shot a half-wincing, half-grateful glance toward Kalfr, and again drew Svein close, stroking at his shuddering back. These furious outbursts from him were new, and though he mostly directed them toward Kalfr, he sometimes hurled them at Raye or Gaelfr, too. Accusing them of making him go to bed too early, or not letting him have sweets for breakfast, or keeping him from going to visit his friends, or just generally being mean, terrible parents.
Raye had been shocked by this development at first — what had happened to her sweet, eager-to-please son? But now, she understood that it went much deeper than whatever injustice Svein was upset about. He’d lived through so many changes these past months — new parents, a new home, new kin, new pets, new siblings on the way — and he still suffered from nightmares about the day he’d run away, his terror of being so alone. And beyond that, it had taken Raye far too long to understand that even up until recently, Svein had still been trying so hard to be good, to be on his best behaviour for her and Kalfr and Gaelfr, and show himself the perfect son. To do everything within his power to make sure Kalfr and Gaelfr wouldn’t leave him again, or replace him.
It had broken Raye’s heart to realize how many scars her sweet son already carried, and it hadn’t been easy to see him lashing out like this, striking at them wherever he could. Oneawful day a few weeks before, he’d even screamed at Kalfr that he wished he’d never come back — and though Raye had flinched at the pain in Kalfr’s scent, he hadn’t shown even a hint of anger. Instead, he’d gone and sat outside Svein’s closed bedroom door for the rest of the afternoon, until a sniffling Svein had finally crept out again, and hurled himself into Kalfr’s arms.
“Ach, he is only testing us,” Kalfr had told them later that night, with a wry, wan smile. “It is good, that he feels safe enough to do this. And that he is speaking his fears to us, rather than running off again.”
Raye could fully agree with that point, and together, they’d made a concerted, consistent effort to make themselves a safe, reliable place for Svein. To make sure he understood both their boundaries and their love, and to show him he could always, always trust them.
“You’re all right, love,” Raye told Svein now, still squeezing him tight, kissing his hair. “Papa Kalfr was just making sure you were safe. And Papa Gael and I just needed a few minutes to settle ourselves, so Papa Kalfr was giving us that, too.”
Svein made a face as he yanked back out of Raye’s grip, shaking his head. “You’re only saying that,” he replied, “because you love Papa Gael more than you love Papa Kalfr!”
Raye fought down her flinch, because this one wasn’t new either, and was at least partly due to the depth of Gaelfr’s scent upon her, which even she could smell was stronger than Kalfr’s these days. But she kept her eyes steady on Svein’s face, and shook her head. “No, I love Papa Kalfr just as much as I love Papa Gael,” she said firmly. “And we all love you equally, too, and we always will.”
She could see Svein slowly deflating, casting an uneasy glance between Kalfr and Gaelfr, and Raye smiled at him, gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Now, Papa Kalfr and I are latewith our morning survey,” she told him. “How do you feel about coming along and helping us?”
Her glance at Kalfr found him smiling and nodding, holding out his hand toward Svein. And after briefly considering it, Svein clasped his hand in return, and soon was skipping beside him as they headed toward the stairs.
Raye exchanged a quick, rueful glance with Gaelfr, and after a quick squeeze to his arm, she headed off downstairs, too. Where she soon found Svein already happily chattering to Kalfr about the forthcoming Bautul Brawl, and listing off all the games he wanted to play with his friends.
Raye smiled as she joined them, and together she and Kalfr led Svein through their now-familiar routine. Checking each room, doing a quick review of the provisions in the storeroom and root cellar, making sure Skirvir’s axe wasn’t posing any new threats in the muster-room — a situation that admittedly happened less often these days, since Skirvir had finally relented to Fengr’s storage proposal for his axe, and it now hung grandly in its own place of honour on the wall, just at the perfect height for Skirvir to easily grasp it. However, despite Fengr and Skirvir’s apparent truce, contention still occasionally broke out between them, to the point where Skirvir’s axe had recently mysteriously disappeared for an entire week, leading to a deeply alarming afternoon during which a rampaging Skirvir had torn Fengr’s entire room apart, while Fengr had screamed and thrown plates at his head.
But today, Skirvir’s axe was exactly where it was supposed to be, hung with pride over the neat, organized muster-room, and Raye and Kalfr shared a relieved grin before heading further down the corridor. Svein had run off ahead now, making a game of checking each room before they could get there, and Raye leaned closer to Kalfr as they walked, her hand clasping his.
“Thanks for that, earlier,” she murmured. “You didn’t — actually mind, did you? About me and Gael?”
It was a question that still sometimes nagged at her, and Svein’s accusation had apparently cut closer than she would have liked — but Kalfr’s glance down toward her was surprised, his head shaking. “Ach, no,” he replied. “Why should I mind?”
Raye shrugged, gave him a complicated-feeling smile. “Well, the two of us doing these things without you,” she said. “And the strength of Gael’s scent on me, too.”
Kalfr shook his head again, and gave her a fond smile in return. “Ach, but you know how he loves this. How much power this grants him. And” — he leaned in, inhaled deep at her hair — “how sweet you scent, with myástvinurso deep upon you.”
Raye nodded, her own smile deepening, because yes, that was another new thing she’d learned, these past months. Another thing Kalfr had written to her, in fact, in the letters they’d begun writing back and forth, every week or two. It wasn’t something either of them had meant to fall into, but Raye had treasured every letter he wrote, every quiet truth he shared, and she’d found herself wanting to write back, and share her own truth, too. And they’d written for a few weeks about this one — how Kalfr loved Gaelfr’s scent upon her, and how it was another kind of power and safety, all its own. How with every breath he took, he could scent the vivid proof of their reconciliation, the truth that they were together again. A family.
It had led to more letters about their own families, and their parents, and how they’d spent their years apart. Raye had ended up writing pages and pages about Svein’s birth and early childhood, sharing as many details as she could, and even asking Kalfr’s advice on various questions and quandaries she’d faced. And she’d answered all his questions in return, doing her best to make him feel as though he’d still been there, still part of Svein’s life, even during their years apart.
And alongside it, they’d written about lighter things, too. About projects they wanted to do in the garden, or food they wanted to cook, and Kalfr would ask her questions about Mirkandian food and culture, and Raye would draw him little sketches of tapestry ideas, and ask his opinion. And sometimes Kalfr would give her teasing tests or challenges, too, and they would play them out in bed together, while Gaelfr urged them on.
It was all more peace, more ever-deepening trust between them, and Raye squeezed Kalfr’s hand as they next headed out to the garden, where Svein gleefully greeted Mr. Stinkles and Mr. Snoofles, and cajoled Eyolf and Iyolf into a lively game of chase around the garden. Leaving Raye and Kalfr to wander contentedly around together, reviewing their beds and rotations, discussing what should be moved or trimmed or expanded.
“These are looking well, are they not?” Kalfr asked her, nodding toward one of their newest beds — one that was comprised almost entirely of Raye’s own plants from back at her cottage. Once everything there had died down, and the men had abandoned her cottage’s burnt-out remains for good, Kalfr had taken Eyolf and Iyolf late one night, and they’d dug out everything they could — and luckily, most of her plants had been far enough from the cottage that they’d survived the fire unscathed. And now, they were all growing here instead, including her precious Mirkandian herbs and spices, and her plants for dyeing colours, too. The coreopsis, the black hollyhock, the saffron crocuses she and Kalfr had once spent an entire morning harvesting together.
And just the month before, Raye had finally begun some proper dyeing — and at Kalfr’s knowing nudge, she next headed further west through the garden, toward the nearby creek. Toward where there now stood a brand-new, well-ventilateddye shed, complete with a sturdy worktable, multiple large cauldrons, a firepit, and all the dyeing tools she might need.
It had been a proper mating-gift from Gaelfr, built by the band in secret over many weeks, and the sight of it still caught Raye’s breath, and made her send a silent thanks to the goddess. A dye shed was a luxury she’d never once imagined possessing, but now it was here, hers, along with all the rest. Her home. Her family.
“Prayers next?” she murmured toward Kalfr, to which he easily acquiesced, and after a quick check-in with Eyolf and Iyolf and Svein, they headed toward the altar together. Their prayers together were now one of Raye’s favourite parts of every day, and they were another opportunity for her and Kalfr to reconnect with each other, to be honest with each other and the goddess. And today, once Raye was kneeling beside Kalfr on the white-covered stone — now without even a trace of that dark red blood upon it — she fervently thanked the goddess for all her great gifts. For Kalfr, for Gaelfr, for Svein, for the band, for their home. Their family.
Kalfr’s prayer was similar, his voice quiet and steady, at ease again with his goddess, the way he was meant to be. And as always, he prayed for each one of his band members by name, asking for their health and growth and peace — and then he especially prayed for Raye and Gaelfr, and for Svein, and for their unborn sons.
“I pray you will see my kin, and bless them,” he murmured, his head bowed, his hand over his heart. “I pray you will guide me to uphold them, and honour them, and raise them high around me. For they have granted me such healing, such peace, and it is my greatest wish to return this gift. To show them only my faith, my hope, and my love.”
