For The Sake of Revenge

II~Chapter 8: Decisions

"Wake up," the voice I haven't heard in so long sounded and I blinked blearily.

"Saron?" I asked groggily. Since I had...woke up here, we only had a few video chats with Saron, who was now living in Denmark with her Danish husband, Knut.

A swish of curtains and the light soaked through my eyelids.

"Wake up," she repeated, "It's eleven in the morning."

"It's the first day of the holidays," I snapped, "Let me sleep."

"Erika and Lyla want to see you," she said.

"After I wake up," I was too sleepy to feel any sort of nostalgia and happiness at getting to see my sister and her family.

"Now," she insisted, "I saved some pancakes before Knut finished everything."

Must have been difficult to do.

"Where are mom and dad?" I asked, forcing myself to sit up.

"Mom is with the girls and dad is with Knut, helping him break down the icicles on the roof," she said. I could just imagine my dad standing and looking up at Knut scrape down the icicles on the roof, talking to him in that thick accent while Knut struggled. What my parents really liked about Knut was that he was able to engage in any conversation, even the ones he couldn't understand.

"Or is it the other way around?" I murmured, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and accepting a cup of water from Saron.

"We both know it is," she said dryly, looking down at me and I was struck at how different she looked out of the camera. She was slender and beautiful, her complexion a delightful olive tone, and her hair was black as obsidian. I was nothing like her and I remembered telling Ivar about my sister. She smiled at me, sitting at the foot of my bed. Her smile literally lit up her entire face.

I couldn't help but smile back.

"I miss you," I said hoarsely, pulling her to me.

"I miss you too," she said.

"How is Denmark?"

"I got the hang of the language. Abelon has been helping me with his favourite dishes," Saron said. Abelon was her father in law. I vaguely remembered a virile man with a shock of grey hair and the brightest eyes from the wedding just seven years previously. It was one of the happiest nights of my memories, even though I wasn't old enough to fully appreciate it.

"That's good," I yawned some more.

"Come on, clean up," she tapped my shoulder.

"When did you guys arrive?" I asked. We had waited for a long while for them and eventually I fell asleep. The flight was late.

"Around two," she shrugged, "But everyone slept well enough."

I threw my legs off the bed and struggled up on my feet. I shuddered when my feet touched the cool hardwood.

"Ok, out, I wanna change."

"Don't be late," she told me and I waved her off. She hadn't changed much. Her punctuality, as always, was a source of annoyance for me.

*~*~*

"Tante!" Lyla shrieked happily. She was the younger daughter. Just like her sister, she was beautiful, with black hair and the curious blue eyes that no one could explain (no one on my side of the family had blue eyes, I think). Both were coloring in front of my mom, who was peeling zucchinis.

I greeted them enthusiastically. It has been a long time since I have seen them. Erika proudly showed me her missing tooth and the fairy godmother she drew. Layla messily sneezed on my arm but I still hugged her anyway. With any other child, I don't think I would have tolerated them. But they were my nieces and they were really cute, that just automatically made me love them.