Blessed by the Gods

Silver Lines

Their chests moving heavy, Rùna rested in Ivar's arms. The tips of his fingers brushed over another silver line on her back, leading from the scar that hours earlier had been a gash on her back, to her hairline. It ran like a river over her side, her shoulder blade, in the form of a wing, parted on her arm and led to her hair behind her left ear.

His eyes closed, Ivar rested his head on hers, listening to her breathing, the thunder outside that stopped soon after, and opened his eyes only when a ray of sun warmed his face.

The new silver line on Rùna's back shimmered bright, and whenever he touched it, that shimmer transferred onto his finger. Like a snake it wrapped around the finger and his hand, travelling up his arm and to his shoulder until he let go and the shimmer disappeared.

With joy, Rùna watched as Ivar held his finger to her skin and let the light travel through his body until it reached his shoulder. The seventh time he did so, Rùna took her hand and placed it on his chest. The silver lines grew from her hand, over his chest all the way to his face and his eyes, and for the first time, Rùna truly saw Ivar. His eyes as silver as hers. Blinded, but his face looked young and beautiful, his ocean blue eyes that lit up and turned into the bright summer sky she so loved to see at least once. A tear rolled over her face and landed on his chest.

The silver light that emerged from her tear dissolved into his chest and from that moment on, she could see him, not from her vision, but the way he smiled at her, his face, his body, all of it. The joy in his eyes, the love and the sadness that awaited him. An ache cut into her heart, seeing him, only him, but she shed no more tears, instead a laugh rolled over her lips and another. And with that laugh, Ivar kissed her, again and again, loved her, and kissed her once more.