Raye shot an alarmed look over her shoulder toward Gaelfr, who was watching from the bed with unmistakable amusement, his head propped on his hand, the fur pulled up over his chest.And that was probably as much as she could hope for, at the moment, so she hauled in a breath, and went and drew the door open.
“Mama!” Svein joyously yelped, lurching forward to hurl his arms around her. “You’ve been sleepingforever!”
Raye gladly hugged him back, even as her eyes snapped up, toward the darkness of the alcove beyond him. Toward —Kalfr.
She could scarcely see him in the shadows, but she could feel his disapproval, even that same stark, sickening hatred from the day before. Because she’d abandoned her own room to sleep in here with Gaelfr, and Gaelfr was still just lying there in bed behind her, all but shouting about what they’d almost just done.
But when Raye shot a chagrined glance back toward Gaelfr, he was eyeing Kalfr too, and he raised a hand in silent greeting, and flashed him a warm, sheepish grin. As if — right. He wanted to…take good carewith Kalfr, he’d said. He wanted to tend Kalfr. To earn his trust again. And Raye had agreed to all that, too. To keep her vow to him. To atone.
So she squared her shoulders, and attempted a smile toward Kalfr’s inscrutable face, before dropping her attention back to Svein. “Er, have you been awake long, then, love?” she asked. “And has Papa Kalfr been awake with you all this time, too?”
“Yes, we’ve been having so much fun!” Svein replied. “We climbed to another higher tree house, and explored all the tunnels, and the garden! But now we’ve started making breakfast, and you’ll want to come eat the food we picked from the garden just for you, don’t you?”
Right. Breakfast. Raye nodded, and attempted another smile up at Kalfr’s shadowed face. “That’s so thoughtful of you both,” she replied. “And yes, of course we’d love to, wouldn’t we, Gaelfr?”
She darted a searching look over her shoulder toward him, but he was already smiling fondly toward Svein, and nodding.“Ach, son,” he said. “Only grant us a moment to ready ourselves, and we shall come.”
Svein beamed back at him, and trotted out toward Kalfr, who guided him away again. And though Kalfr didn’t look back, Raye could still almost feel his lingering unhappiness, or even his hatred, and she dragged in deep, steadying breaths. She could do this. She could try to atone. For Svein.
“Should get ready, then,” she mumbled, as she lurched toward the nearby washbasin, and quickly scrubbed her hands and face before heading for the shelf of clothing. “What do you want, trousers?”
Gaelfr grunted his assent, so Raye sifted through his overlarge trousers, picked out the finest-feeling pair, and tossed them over toward him. Next she dug through her own patched, shabby dresses, too — not counting the bloodstained one, she was down to three — and pulled on the least terrible option. It still looked stained and tattered and unkempt, although — Raye frowned down at it for an instant too long — it didn’t look quite as baggy on her as it had before, did it? And when she spread a cautious hand against her ribs, they felt a little less prominent than before, too.
“Ach, you look a mite less starved, woman,” Gaelfr said gruffly from the washbasin, and when Raye glanced up, he’d taken his hair out of its usual half-knot, and was impatiently running a wooden comb through its thick, glossy length. “Though I yet owe you a new frock, do I not? I shall find a way to do this, mayhap” — he smirked — “once we have further fattened you.”
Raye scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t muster the will to argue, either. Especially once Gaelfr stuck the comb between his teeth and drew the top half of his hair back, deftly winding it up into a neat knot again.
“Do you wish for this?” he asked once he’d finished, thrusting the comb out toward her — surely due to her blatant staring, damn it. And too late, Raye shook her head, and ran a hand through her own messy, tangled hair. “No, thank you,” she said, too stiffly. “I don’t usually use combs, it’s too —”
She tugged her fingers at a painful knot, while Gaelfr harrumphed, and jabbed his claw toward the bed. “Come, then,” he said flatly. “Sit.”
Raye instantly obeyed, as though compelled, and then quivered all over at the feel of Gaelfr’s hands, stroking deft and proprietary at her head, drawing her messy hair back over her shoulders. As if he had every right to touch her, to gently scrape his claws at her scalp, to card his fingers through her thick curls.
Raye couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her hair like this — since her mother, perhaps — and she couldn’t deny her slow, shaky exhale, or the way her head tilted back into his touch. Because gods, it felt good. The gentle tugs against her scalp, the soft scratches of his claws, the feel of his fingers carefully working through one tangle, and another. Firing sparkling shocks of pleasure down her neck, her shoulders, prickling at the small of her back, heating in her belly…
“I will braid it, like Svein’s,” came his voice behind her. “To keep it safe from tangling thus again.”
It wasn’t a question, but rather a decision, an announcement — Gaelfr was unilaterally deciding how Raye would wear her hair, without even asking her — but in the strange, hazy pleasure, she found she didn’t quite care. In this moment, he could do whatever the hell he wanted, and she would only sit there, and revel in it.
The braiding felt lovely too, light rhythmic tugs slowly working all the way down her scalp, and Raye felt genuinely disappointed once Gaelfr finished, and tied it off with what appeared to be another green ribbon from his trousers, just likethe one he’d given Svein. “There,” he said, with a pat to her head. “Better, ach?”
Raye couldn’t help a grateful glance up over her shoulder, and perhaps a too-appreciative smile, too. “Yes, much,” she murmured. “Thank you, Gael.”
Gaelfr’s eyes stilled, because — damn it — that was Kalfr’s name for him. But even as Raye opened her mouth to apologize, or perhaps to take it back, he dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Naught to it,” he said. “Now come.”
Raye nodded, not quite meeting his eyes, and silently followed him out into the larger open room, and toward the narrow staircase. And when Gaelfr’s hand brushed against her back, nudging her up the stairs, she desperately fought to ignore that touch, to focus her dazed, scrambled thoughts. She was doing this for Svein…
When they emerged from the fireplace into the house’s bright, sunlit main room, Kalfr and Svein were both working together over the fire, while the delicious smell of frying meat and mushrooms wafted through the air. And though Svein excitedly pranced over to greet them, Kalfr only spared a brief glance over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing on Raye’s braided hair, and especially on that new green ribbon Gaelfr had given her.
But perhaps Gaelfr had caught that too, because after an affectionate rustle at Svein’s hair, he strode over to Kalfr at the fire, and slid his arm around his waist. “How fare you this morn,ástin mín?” he murmured, barely loud enough for Raye to hear it. “Did you sleep well?”
Kalfr shot him a baleful look over his shoulder, and he did look tired, with deep shadows under his eyes. But he didn’t reply, and Gaelfr inhaled close against the back of his neck, before pressing a brazen kiss against it.
“No?” he asked, even softer. “Then mayhap tonight you will join us, and allow us to tend you?”
Kalfr betrayed a brief, telltale twitch, but then he glanced furtively back toward Svein, who was watching this with avid curiosity. And when Kalfr sharply nudged Gaelfr away, Gaelfr glanced toward Svein too, and gave a firm, reassuring pat to Kalfr’s shoulder. “Ach, I see,” he said, before turning toward Svein. “Son, can we speak for a spell? Whilst your mother helps Papa Kalfr with breakfast?”
Raye hesitated, because surely Kalfr wouldn’t want her help? But he hadn’t argued Gaelfr’s order, and was now alternating between stoking the fire, frowning at the two pans simmering on the grate, and glancing uneasily toward where Gaelfr was guiding Svein over to the table.
