The Goblin's Throne

Chapter Fifty One: Ashes to Ashes

I slowly turned towards Knut, clutching that tiny box filled with the ashes of our child to my dead silent heart. Knut stood there by the door like he was frozen. So still and quiet. He stared at that box and I watched helplessly as the mask of rightness he'd been so careful to wear for me shattered and crumbled away. Beneath it, lay the face of a man torn apart and hollowed out by grief. I saw him again as he'd been the night I returned Magni's body. So warped by loss that any humanness I'd ever seen in his features seemed imagined from the beginning. 

"I was going to tell you." He spoke in a soft whimper. He took a step towards me. The movement was hesitant, oddly timid like he wasn't sure if I was going to attack him or not. "I-I tried to do as I was supposed to. I took him home. I built his pier. I lit the kindling. I watched him burn, tended the flames until it was done, and collected all that was left, but I couldn't...I couldn't bring myself to scatter him. I could endure no more. I had done all I could stand." He shook. His entire body shook with pain. "I couldn't do that alone." He reached out his trembling claws as if begging his god for forgiveness. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, but you were so happy to be home. I didn't want to ruin it. After everything you've gone through, I wanted you to be happy for just a day before," I went to him, still holding that box of ashes to my ribs and kissed him to stop his mouth from forming any more unnecessary and foolish words. He needn't ask for forgiveness from me. I was not his god no matter what he thought. I was only his wife, his partner, and friend. I prayed he would remember that.

"Thank you." I sobbed when the kiss broke, I pressed my brow into his shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I repeated those words over and over, each time my voice growing smaller and smaller and more warped by heartache and tears. Those thank you's were for more than just keeping Magni's ashes. They were for everything. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for fathering my children. Thank you for every shred of kindness, every hug, every kiss, every sweet word. Most of all, I thanked him for showing me that unconditional love existed in the world, even if it came from somewhere unexpected and for showing me again and again that I was worthy of it. I was still not entirely convinced that was true, but I knew he believed that I was and it meant more to me than I'd ever be able to express in a thousand lifetimes.

Slowly, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around me. "But I...I should've handled it myself. It was my responsibility. You shouldn't have had to face this." 

"I've never been able to bury anyone," I said, my already small voice muffled by his shirt. "A gravedigger came for my mother just like the baby before her. We didn't go to see her buried. I don't even know where she is. I don't know what they did with my father after the birds picked him clean or Rolland and Rhys. Everyone just dies and goes away. I've never been able to really say goodbye to any of them. I thought the same had happened with Magni...now I know I can. It is a gift, Knut. One of the greatest you've ever given me."

He bent down, laying his cheek onto the top of my head. "We'll do it as it should be done. It won't be just my hands that scatter his ashes to the wind, it will be yours too. He'll have his father and his mother to send him on his way when you decide you're ready." I wiped my wet cheek onto his shirt as Knut smiled softly down at me, giving me a squeeze. "And his brothers, cousin, uncle Ib and granny Ask and all the rest of this hodgepodge of a family."

Family. That word sounded so beautiful in Knut's voice. "He'd like that, I think," I said softly. One hand let go of Magni's little box and brushed its fingers over Knut's cheek. He leaned into my touch and smiled down at me. His eye was full of tears still and every inch of him screamed of his hurt, but he smiled. He smiled for me...so that I might hurt a little less. 

"You're sweaty." He noticed, running his hand through my damp hair. He frowned as he touched my forehead and cheeks, checking for fever. "You're not sick are you?"