DREAM OF ME, sihtric & finan

4. trapped bird

CHAPTER FOUR; trapped bird

She felt as if this was all some sort of punishment from the Gods.  For what, the answer never came — what had her family done so badly that they had been abandoned in this way?  Perhaps to make up for their lack of protection and guidance, they had sent Sihtric back to her. 

He didn't utter a word to anyone about the water or food he snuck in.  He never commented on her extra bruises, though she would feel his angry stare upon them.  It had only been a few days, he told her, as she was unable to see outside, but those days felt like eternity.

She had never been treated as less than a loved daughter before, despite being trained to fight— she had never been told what to expect when treated like a prisoner. So the beatings and the taunting were answered in rash hot anger, and she always had a reaction.

Sihtric struggled with the sight of another bruise harming her skin the way it was doing so, caused by his Father, he struggled watching her sit against the metal bars of the pet-like kept cage and eat with her mud and bloody stained fingers. He started coming with wet cloths, so she could wipe her skin clean the best she could manage.

He watched her as he usually did whenever he managed to sneak into the hut, his arms between the bars and clutching the one that met in the middle. Her throat ran down the water she was gulping until she had enough, pulling the cup from her lips and sparing a look toward him, her eyes widening slightly at the fact he was already watching her.

Blush dusting across his cheeks, Sihtric was quick to run his eyes away. He used to do that when they were younger, always embarrassed whenever he was caught, which to his failing luck, was every single time — sometimes she would giggle, but she never teased him beyond that. Her Father always used to tell her ways to scare boys away, but her Mother would tell her the opposite.

None of that mattered now.

She was sure she would never fully trust anybody again.

But she really, really wanted to fully trust Sihtric — that's what she was doing now, though, was it not? She remembered the bruises that would fall upon his skin, she remembered the way she used to kiss underneath his eye where he would be hit, and the way he said he liked that.

"Am I going to die here?" Tova speaks for the first time since showing her gratitude at the water and bread, eyes finding his again — she was the sea, and he was the clash. Hers blue, and his two different colours, but she had always liked that about him.  "Don't lie to me, Sihtric. I won't be a fool of Loki's trickery anymore than I already am." 

His heart hurt the same way his heart hurt when he found his family was banished all those years ago and he couldn't say goodbye to her.  He and his Mother had been treated the worse during the move, his Mother's hate grew and after attempting to poison Kjartan, she had been killed for it. 

She was Sihtric's only purpose now — Tova.

No, she wasn't going to die.

"That may be what they want," Sihtric doesn't lie to her, he can't — he always hated to do so. Always so cold to others but bare-skinned and warm to her. She, his childhood best friend and the woman he loved all the same, "But it will not be what I allow to happen. Tova, Tova. . ." He clutches the bar, "I have a plan."