Svein eagerly nodded and skipped off up the narrow path ahead, banging his stick against tree trunks as he passed. While Raye let out a shaky breath, and forced herself to start moving again, falling into step with Gaelfr beside her.
“Young orcs cannot yet discern… detail, in such matters,” came Gaelfr’s quiet voice. “He shall only scent it as… closeness, between us. Belonging. His father would then speak more to him of this, as he grew older.”
That should have been a relief, but instead Raye’s dread and unease swarmed even worse. Because he meant…Kalfrwould have those conversations. Not Gaelfr himself, since he was still planning to leave. But there was still no telling what Kalfr would do or say, especially now that Raye and Gaelfr’s scents apparently now spoke ofcloseness,belonging, and now Kalfrwould know that, too. How much would he know, what would he say?
Mine, hissed Gaelfr’s distant voice, scraping through the mess of Raye’s thoughts. Gaelfr crouching over her face, burying himself deep into her mouth, feasting between her legs.Suck me, sæta. Feed yourself upon me. Every drop.
Raye rubbed both hands at her hot face, and forced herself to keep walking, holding her eyes on Svein up ahead. She needed to focus on Svein, but how could she do this, how could she bear it? Just walking, dragging her feet, step after step. Waiting, pleading, dreading, Kalfr, Gaelfr was still leaving, she was doing this for Svein…
“Ach,” Gaelfr finally breathed beside her, and he halted mid-step, blinking glazed and strange up toward the path ahead. His nostrils flared again and again, his throat spasming, his face gone strangely pale and haggard in the bright light.
“What is it?” Raye asked, instinctively gripping his arm, while her already-pattering heartbeat began thudding through her ears. “You… do you smell him? Kalfr?”
But she already knew the answer, could read it too easily in Gaelfr’s eyes, in the tightness on his mouth. In the way his muscled forearm was rigid and unmoving beneath her fingers, as if he’d forgotten how to move, or breathe.
And as if…hewas nervous about meeting Kalfr, too. Uncertain. Afraid. And blinking up toward his pale face, it belatedly occurred to Raye that she hadn’t at all considered how Gaelfr must feel about this today. How he hadn’t seen Kalfr in years, and how Kalfr would now scent Raye upon him. And how Kalfr had broken his vows to Gaelfr, and started a whole new life, without him.
And curse her, Raye wasn’t…worryingabout Gaelfr, was she? Sympathizing with him, feeling fully in accord with him?After everything he’d done? After he’d been the one to insist on coming here to begin with?
“Well, at least Kalfr won’t hateyou,” Raye said thickly, with a squeeze of her hand to Gaelfr’s stiff forearm. “He’ll still be happy to see you, after so long. Right?”
Gaelfr’s mouth twisted, and he scoffed, shook his head. “Kalfr has sent me not one message or letter, all these summers,” he replied, his voice hard. “And he has scorned his vow to me, with this new woman. We were meant to share our women and bedmates together, and thus I have not touched any other since I left him, but for you. I have longed for him every night, and mourned and raged to the goddess over him, begged for strength to stay away from him, whilst he — he —”
He snapped his mouth shut, and dragged in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, his lashes fluttering. As if he still desperately needed even the scent of Kalfr, even though Kalfr had rejected him, and betrayed him. And had Gaelfr truly missed him that much?I have not touched another since I left him, but for you…
Raye’s hand had begun stroking Gaelfr’s arm, and her other hand settled against his waist. “But you’re still hisástvinur,” she said, through her constricted throat. “And you always will be. Right?”
Gaelfr drew in another deep breath, and let it out. “Ach,” he said, his shoulders slightly sagging. “And if hedaresto speak one word of my scent upon you, I shall —”
He broke off there, because up ahead Svein had turned around, trotting back toward them. “Why did we stop?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
Gaelfr squared his shoulders, and waved for Svein to come closer. “I can scent your other father up ahead, son,” he said, with admirable steadiness. “We shall meet him in another league or two.”
Svein’s eyes widened, and he raised his nose to sniff at the air, his nostrils rapidly flaring. “He’s really that close?” he asked, high-pitched. “But I can’t scent him, Papa!”
“You will, son,” Gaelfr replied, with a pat to Svein’s shoulder. “Soon. He shall be most glad to see you, I ken.”
But Svein’s nostrils kept flaring, his eyes darting back and forth, and he looked almost as anxious as Raye felt. “But… how do you know?” he demanded. “He’s never come to meet me before! What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
It struck through Raye’s chest, stung behind her eyes, but Gaelfr’s eyes were flinty as he gently squeezed Svein’s shoulder. “Kalfr will want to see you, son,” he replied. “You are his son. His blood. His kin. His own.”
Svein nodded, but he still didn’t look convinced, biting at his bottom lip. “But what if he doesn’t… like me? What if I’m too small, or too stupid, or too messy? What if I’m not a good Bautul? What if that’s why he’s never come to see me?”
Oh, gods, had Svein truly been thinking all these things, all this time? Raye’s eyes were burning now, enough that she had to scrub at them, and fight to keep her breaths steady. While Gaelfr didn’t even flinch, and instead he knelt to meet Svein’s gaze, and gave his shoulder a firm little shake.
“Kalfr will love you, Svein, just as you are,” he said. “Ach, how could he not? You are kind, and clever, and eager, and strong. You are joy, and light, and a great gift from the goddess. You are all any Bautul could ever wish for in a son.”
His voice went hoarse by the end, rough with something too much like longing. And when Svein hurled himself into Gaelfr’s arms, sniffling as he squeezed him tight, Raye had to choke down the sob hovering in her own throat. Svein should have never, ever thought such things. She should have done better by her sweet, precious son. And what would come next? Whatwould Kalfr say? How angry would he be? Would he really still want Svein? What would become of them?
But there were no answers. Only more endless questions, more endless walking, now with Svein perched on Gaelfr’s hip, clinging to his side. Adding what must have been considerable weight to Gaelfr’s already-heavy load, but apart from his slower steps, he still didn’t betray any sign of reluctance or complaint. If anything, he only looked grimly determined now, committed to what he’d promised to do. Helping them. Supporting Svein. Keeping his vows without hesitation, even in the face of his own unhappiness, his own fears.
It all kept churning and clashing in Raye’s gut, bubbling up with shame and regret and sheer dizzying terror. Kalfr. For Svein. Had to keep going, keep walking, for Svein…
Until finally, Gaelfr stopped. Blinked up ahead. While a trickle of sweat streaked down his temple, and his throat convulsed. And when Raye followed his eyes, her heartbeat battering her ribs, she found…
A figure. A tall, silent figure, waiting in the path ahead. The late afternoon light dappled across his form, hiding him in shadow, but it was…
“Greetings,ástin mín,” Gaelfr said, with a crack in his voice. “Now come, and meet our son.”
