The Nokk's Child

Chapter One- The Child from the Northern Sea

She named him Einþor Úthafsson, 'the only son of the stormy sea.' After all, she thought, how could he go through life without a name?

He was a few months under two years old, able to scoot along on his bum and shakily pull himself up on pieces of furniture. Thus the hut was baby-proofed the next day with the help of a good friend.

Atli had walked right through the door. "Honestly Helka, kæru heimskur, this is no home for a child." He frowned, "Little drengur here is going to be eaten by one of your houseplants right before your very eyes."

Hand waving, books and ingredients zoom back into place in the blink of an eye. Atli Magnússon cut an imposing figure. Long and thin, with sharp angled joints hidden under the swish of his modern cut of cloak, anybody who didn't know him would be terrified. Luckily, Helka knew better and swatted the man with her hat.

"Is that any way to talk to your elder, child? Now help me move this crate."

They made quick work of the hut, enchanting a broom to sweep, calming plants, and generally putting away sharp things. The pet snake was put back in his cage, much to his displeasure by Atli, while Helka began to make lunch.

Atli was sitting at the table when she brought the steaming bowls of plokkfiskur in. He was quietly murmuring to Einþor, "Hush lítið barn, frændi Atli er hér," who was happily sitting on his lap. Helka gave him a side eye.

"What does that look mean?"

She smiled, "I never knew that you were this good with babies."

"Well I did have to take care of Katrin when she was little," he said, cold eyes flashing with warmth for a moment, "but aren't you the one who took care of the town's children when they were sick?"

Helka leaned back in her chair, sipping tea and eating plokkfiskur, while contemplating the last few years. "I'm afraid it's different, dear. The children I've taken care of were just that, children. I've never had to watch a baby by myself," smiling kindly at him, she continues, "Of course, you have been a very big help."

Atli chuckles at that and they begin to talk of their families and fond memories, reminiscing about the past, and swapping healing potion recipes in case Einþor where to get sick. The child had fallen asleep, dosing contently against Atli. He softly smiles down at the boy, not minding the bit of drool on his new vest.

"You know, Helka, he is welcome at Skorri's and my apartment anytime. Katrin would love to watch him as well. You know how much she would love the little drengur."

Helka nodded and stood, clearing their plates. On the way back to the table, she grabbed Atli's cloak, which had been set onto a chair, and brought it to the worlock.

"Thank you Atli," she softly said handing it to him, "I don't you what I'd do without you, dear."

Leaning down, light hair falling into his face, he gently pat her face. "Anytime, kæru. I have to make sure my favorite gömal kona is getting along well."

That got him another smack to the arm.

"I'm not that old! Now get out of my house, vígslu."

Eyebrow smugly raised, Atli let himself be shoved out the door with an enchanted broom, wanting to go home and chat with Skorri about his interesting day. Helka turned back and walked into her bedroom. Atli and her had made a makeshift cradle out of crates, blankets, and magic until they could find a real one. Einþor was fast asleep inside cuddling a plush fish, Atli must have put him there while Helka was cleaning up the kitchen. How convenient, a fish. She chuckled softly to herself, it was just like Atli to bring him such a teasing gift.

With all of her being, she hoped that she could raise this child correctly. He would be taught as a warlock, under the salty smell there was clearly traces of magic, and sent to school like any other child. She would give him a nice life here until he was old enough to help her with her task. Then, together, they would return to the sea.