It sounded painfully formal, as if he was again establishing a safe distance between them, or reminding her of her place.There is naught you could ever, ever do.
But once Kalfr had strode off toward the stairs, his back straight, Gaelfr gave Raye a reassuring pat, and an approving smile. “This is good, woman,” he said, under his breath. “If your weaving and this motley band are what he wishes for, then we will grant this, will we not?”
Raye nodded, even as she darted a sideways glance toward Svein, who was still listening to this, and had surely now heard far more than he should. But he was smiling too, and his eyes were bright with eagerness and relief.
“Where will you put your new loom, Mama?” he asked. “We have to find you the best place!”
Raye gratefully smiled back, and soon she and Svein and Gaelfr were tromping around thebyrgi, and evaluating the available options. The back bedroom was too small, the rooms downstairs were too dark, and there wasn’t much unused space in the main room, and it was likely to only become more crowded once all the orcs properly settled in. But when they climbed up into the loft — which Raye hadn’t properly seen yet — they found it entirely open and empty, with large windows at both ends, and a clear view down to the main floor below, too.
“There’s even a table here,” Raye said, stroking her hand against its smooth wood surface. “And in just the right place, too, so I could get the light from behind, and see out that window, and anyone coming in the door. And wait, is that…”
She’d only now noticed the item hanging on the wall, just to the left of the table, and she froze at the sight. It was… a tapestry. Small, patterned, brightly coloured, and full of flowers. Bold, twining flowers that whirled together in a dance of colours, because — she’d made them that way. She’d drawn them that way. And then she’d woven them together into one of hertapestries, and it had taken almost a full month, and instead of selling it, she — she’d given it to Kalfr.
And now — Kalfr still had it. And yes, Raye vaguely remembered Olarr saying Kalfr had showed him her work, but she’d never imagined it was… here. Hung up in Kalfr’sbyrgi, in the place Kalfr wanted to make his home.
“This is yours,sæta?” Gaelfr asked, as he stepped closer to peer at it. “It is… beautiful.”
Beautiful. A choked sound escaped Raye’s lips, and she opened her mouth, perhaps to argue that statement — but she swallowed it back, and nodded. The tapestrywasbeautiful. It was a vivid representation of Mirkandian weaving, of Raye’s family’s trade, her mother’s great gift. And the fact that Kalfr had it here, had hung it here, in just the best spot for weaving, was doing strange things in Raye’s stomach.
“Yes, it’s pretty, Mama,” Svein said, from where he was eyeing it, too. “I don’t remember you making these before. You’ll make another one, won’t you?”
Raye nodded and gave him a wavering smile, even as her stomach stuttered again. Because of course Svein would barely remember her weaving anything like this, would he? Gods, it had been so long, and she wanted it so damned much.
“I will bring up the loom and yarn, then,” Gaelfr said firmly. “Is there aught else you need, to start?”
It was a good question, and Raye ended up asking for a stool, a basket, and paper and something to draw with, if anything was available. And once Gaelfr had brought up the loom and yarn and a pair of stools — one for Raye, one for a guest or helper — he and Svein went off in pursuit of the rest, and Raye began the process of warping the loom for her new tapestry.
It was a slow, painstaking task, but it was also deeply familiar, and strangely soothing, even meditative. And she was already appreciating the location she’d chosen here in the loft,too, because she could see and hear everything happening below, and much of what was going on outdoors. Several of the band’s orcs had already headed off to various tasks for the afternoon — Egil and Skirvir and Othan hunting, Eyolf and Iyolf working in the garden, Soren and William reviewing the current tunnels, and Rurik and Julian setting up a makeshift sickroom down below. While Grum, the cook, had begun limping around in the kitchen, clanking pots and utensils, organizing them to his preference.
“I will need more jars and barrels, and rags for cleaning,” Grum told Kalfr in a gruff voice, once Kalfr had returned from below. “And some of this paper, also.”
Kalfr had indeed been carrying a small sheaf of paper, along with several rough-carved pencils, and he handed a few sheets and a pencil over to Grum without complaint, even as he glanced up toward Raye in the loft. “Only speak if you need more, brother,” he said, “but the rest of this is for my mate.”
My mate. He said it so easily, so casually, with a hint of a smile on his mouth — and as Raye’s heartbeat thudded faster, he jogged up the loft’s stairs toward her. “Svein was growing weary, so Gael has settled him in his room for a spell,” he told her, “but Gael also said you were seeking these?”
Again, it was such a small, stupid gesture, but Raye’s face flooded with unaccountable heat as she nodded back, and took the paper and pencil from his hand. “Thank you,” she said thickly. “And thank you for all of this, too.”
She flapped her hand at the loft, at the tapestry hanging on the wall, at the loom with her new warp threads already stretched across it. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Kalfr betrayed another small smile as he glanced around at it all, too. “I am glad it pleases you,” he replied. “I had thought it might please you to weave up here, but I wished to grant you the choice.”
He’d wanted to give her the choice. And again, it struck strangely through Raye’s thoughts, enough that she dropped her eyes to her loom. “That’s — good of you,” she said, though her voice cracked. “And it was good of you to keep that, too.”
She nodded toward her tapestry on the wall, and Kalfr followed her gaze, and winced. “I ought to have sent it back to you, after. But I could not bear to part with it, and I hoped…”
His voice faded, his eyes sliding down to where Eyolf and Iyolf had just come back inside, carrying several baskets of fresh produce between them. But Raye kept searching Kalfr’s face, because what had he meant to say? Had he hoped they would reconcile? Had he hoped she would come here someday, and see that he’d kept the tapestry, and put it in a place of honour in his home? A place where she might even begin weaving again?
Raye’s throat convulsed, and she drew in her breath, her courage. “Well, I’m glad you kept it,” she replied. “And I’m glad to be here with you now, too. I still” — she took another deep breath — “I still want to do whatever I can to help work through all this. To learn how to… how to move forward with you.”
It was a call back to that vow she’d made to him, that promise —I’ll do whatever it takes— and Kalfr surely recognized it too, his gaze angling away again, his shoulders rising and falling. But even as Raye waited, her heartbeat now thudding in her ears, he didn’t argue it. He didn’t say,There is naught you could ever, ever do, to atone for all you have done.
“Ach, I ken we all must do this,” he finally said, quiet. “We must all seek to meet each other, learn each other,trusteach other. Not as we were, but as we are now.”
The words swooped through Raye’s chest, because — did he really mean that? He wanted them to meet each other, to learn each other, to trust each other? Not as they were then, but as they were now?
And — her eyes rapidly searched Kalfr’s face — was he referring to last night, too? To his new taste for command, for control? To how he’d confessed to Gaelfr that he wanted to punish her?
But yes, that might have been a flush, creeping up Kalfr’s neck, even as his eyes met hers again.We must all seek to meet each other, learn each other, trust each other.
And that meant something, again. It meant — Raye was doing this. She was succeeding in this. And not only had Kalfr given her a loom, and yarn, and an entire loft to work in, but — he’d given her another test. Another challenge. Not from Gaelfr this time, but fromhim.
