Between the Lines

Glorious Purpose

          There was something so soothing about watching Eibhlin cook up close instead of hidden away on a staircase either cloaked in shadow or my Seiðr. She was so beautiful, serene, and joyful as she fluttered from oven to counter and back again. It was the same dance she did at markets, festivals, feasts, and more; the choreography ingrained, the steps as perfectly executed as her knife skills. I ground the almonds for the base of the daimiskake I had convinced her to make instead of the sitronfromasj she had been contemplating as well as the riskrem med tyttebærpære Thor had begged for. It had been no true competition once I had sold Stark on the idea and reminded Thor that he had picked the main course of the grilled whole salmon instead of Eibhlin's suggested sosekjøtt or pinnekjøtt that she thought would be less polarizing than fish. Stark had reassured her that fish, or seafood in general as he claimed, was a staple in the house on order in nights.

    As I sat there, contently watching her as she worked, I could not help but think once more of what life would have been like had I told her all those years ago how I had felt. I knew for certain if I had, I never would have dated either Sif or Fandral; relationships that while tumultuous at best had helped me to learn not only more about what I wanted out of life but also what I did not want. As much as I might have wished to erase those moments, or at least pause and hit replay so I could do them once more, correctly this time, the lessons I had learned were invaluable and I would not have changed them for anything. It didn't lessen the regret I felt for all the wasted years though.

    I could not help but think back over the last twenty years when I truly knew that what I felt for Eibhlin was more than just a kinship with someone who had been discarded as well. I remembered in exquisite detail that first Åkervekking celebration where I had broken her heart in choosing Sif, only to break her heart further each time I had called her a cruel name for the benefit of my friends. My stomach flipped and my heart sank as every instance in which I had referred to her as 'dog girl', 'mutt', and 'little beast' like a coward to hide my true feelings, as if that would somehow lessen them raced through my mind. How she had still managed to love me despite it all, I would never understand.

    Her hand grasped mine, a carving knife far too close to my fingertips as I had gotten lost in my memories while helping her to gash the fish for better flavor and temperature. "My Heart, why so distracted? Is everything alright?"

    I nodded, setting the knife down as she bumped me out of her way to take over with her hip to my thigh. "Just lost in a memory, I suppose."

    "A good one I hope."

    "A rather difficult one, actually," I muttered, washing my hands.

    "Was it about... Him...?"

    I shook my head at her anxious question. "No. No, it was about all the time I wasted being cruel to you."

    Eibhlin offered me a soft knowing smile. "I have told you many times that there is nothing to fear. We were young and on very different paths in life. They met precisely when they were meant to and no sooner."

    "It was a brief meeting before I allowed myself to careen off path."

    Her sigh filled my ear as she came near, careful not to touch me with her oily, fishy hands as she rested her cheek on my back between my shoulder blades as she had done many times before. "We found our way back to one another though... I like to think that is how we know this is real; that we were meant for one another."

    Turning, I wrapped her in my arms, slowly lifting hers to my neck as I began to sway with her; just slow dancing in the kitchen to the beat of our hearts. She smiled up at me, those stunning eyes of hers so warm and filled with nothing but love. "I will never be able to thank the Æsir enough for you."

    "Thank your mother, she knew before we did..."

    A chuckle escaped me, my mind remembering Mother's words from the dungeons. "She did... I think that's why she brought you to Asgard, she knew that we were destined to be together, to make the other's life better..."

    I felt the ring in my pocket; I had taken it from the other pair of pants to keep on my person for safekeeping. Stark had offered me the use of his safe after my failed attempts the night before, yet I had wanted to keep it on me in case I randomly got up the courage to try again. While now wasn't a good time, a moment like this would be. Next time...

    "Do you remember when you sang to me in the dungeons?"

    I nodded, pushing some hair away from her face. "I wanted to comfort you... I had never hated Odin as much as I did in that moment, unable to see you yet tortured by your screams. I remembered the times Åge had sung to you, or Hlíf and Thyra when you were but a child nearly a hundred years ago; how no matter how your day had been, they soothed you."

    "You have always been a soothing presence," she smiled, her head dipping forward as she rested her forehead on my chin. "From that first meeting when you told me to tune the All-Father out, to the way you protected me from Sir Roar to all of the times you lent me your folklore book. You have always been the one I felt safest with, most understood by."

    "Even if I tortured you when we were young?"

    "Even if you tortured me when we were younger," she laughed. I kissed her forehead, sighing as her ears did their little happy dance that they did each time I kissed her like this. "You will forever be my favorite person to dance through life with just like this; though perhaps with less fishy fingers."

    "I love that you are my person and I am yours; that whatever door we come to, we will open together. There is no hardship I would not face without your hand in mine, Little Dove."

    She simply sighed; sometimes there was no need for additional words, Eibhlin was a master of knowing this. It was why our silences were rarely uncomfortable; she was the only one who could look at me and know how I felt, just as she could tell me with her eyes exactly how she felt. There were not enough known words for the adoration I held for this wonderful woman.

    I turned her, wrapping my arms around her waist once more so she could finish the fish, my right hand moving to the small puff of stubborn belly fat where she had stabbed herself so many years ago. Her painful secret, the driving force behind why she had done as she had, was forever on my mind each time I saw the deep, jagged, birthmark-like scar. I wondered if she would be able to carry a child again, if she'd want to; if we even could have children given our differing races. It had been a subject I had never felt comfortable enough to broach, mostly because we had not been intimate until recently. Now though, a part of me wondered if it was something we should discuss before I proposed, even if it would not sway me one way or the other.

    With the fish prepped and seasoned, she had me help her carry it out onto the grill that Rhodes had taught her to use earlier. It was overly complicated as even Rhodes admitted, but there it was able to hold a temperature even when cooking with wood shavings; a technique Eibhlin had often utilized to cook the fish back home to give it a delicate aroma. She placed the fish on the two levels, making sure the temperature was where she wanted it before adding the cedar chips as Rhodes had shown her. She sighed gently stepping back as she closed the lid, unsure.

    "I hope this works as Rhodes and Tony promised. I will be very put out if it does not."

    "I'm sure it will be just as delectable as you are, Little Dove; though the only one who will know that will be me." She chuckled adorably as I nibbled at her neck. "Even if the fish burns a little, it will still be lovely and your dill sauce will help to mask any potential dryness."

    "Your reassurances are still not helping my nerves..."

    Kissing her lips, I ran my thumb along her jaw letting it rest on her plump bottom lip when I pulled away. "Everything is going to be fine. It does not have to be perfect; it will be perfection because you did it, and you did it with love."

    "You're right. Of course, you are right. Potatoes?"

    "Potatoes," I smirked in agreement, leading her back inside to help her finish the sides while the fish slowly roasted over the coals.