Chapter Sixty

Enid was startled awake, her heart racing, her hands reaching for Ivar in the darkness, but she couldn't find him.

"Ssshhh…" she heard. "What is it Frigga? Did you have a bad dream?"

"Far…" she heard Frigga cry, and then she felt him slide back under the furs, felt him wrap his arm under her neck and rest Frigga between their chests, and Enid reached for Frigga then, brushing back her hair and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Bap, far…" Frigga cried, her voice a little mumble as she laid between them.

Ivar laughed softly, kissing the top of her head and whispering, "I'm not doing anything, Frigga. Go back to sleep."

"Bap," Frigga said one last time, before Enid felt her drift off, but Enid could feel how tightly that little fist clutched at her hair and she could see that scowl on the girl's face so clearly in her mind though she was surrounded by nothing but darkness.

Ivar sighed, turning to brush his lips up against Enid's forehead and rest his own against her. Enid couldn't help it, she felt that tension leave her back, felt her heart slowing as his warmth reached her and in that moment she was happy and she didn't think that there was anything that could tear that smile from her lips, but then she felt Frigga tug on her hair and that little foot kick lightly at her stomach in her sleep as Ivar hold them both tighter. Enid's eyes went wide and her body stiff. He was so good with them, with all of his children, but what if he did not want more?

Enid had to stifle that urge to sit up and stare at them, the urge to suddenly run far away. It felt so silly, it was so silly to lie there beside him and worry about something like that when they weren't married and they might never marry, but to think about leaving somehow made her chest ache, not a dull ache like the one in her muscles but something sharp, something like the feel of that knife that dug into her cheek.

But what if he did not want more children? Could Enid give up on the thought of having her own? For a moment she couldn't breathe, for a moment she was gritting her teeth and biting back a scream, and then she felt those fingers trail her arm, felt them rub her shoulder and brush at her cheek and she sighed, holding that palm to her face and not letting him go.

It was silly, silly to think of this now, silly to think of children when they didn't even know if they were safe. She could ask him later, she would ask him when they were back on the farm and everything was back to the way it should be.

"What is it?" he whispered, and she thought on telling him, wanting to ease that pain inside her, but she shook her head, a small smile springing to her lips as she felt him against her, knowing he had enough troubles for now. His lips reached for hers, softly brushing up against her. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I know that," she laughed.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologise, Ivar. It's me. I don't know what's gotten into me today."

He laughed then, a laugh that was soft, that tickled her stomach and made her flush with heat. "Maybe you're with child."

"That would be a miracle," she sighed.

"What's a miracle?" he asked, and she thought on that for a moment, searching for the right words, for something in their culture that would compare.

"It's… it's like a gift from God," she said. "Like a blessing or a-,"

"Like you."

She wanted to tell him that she was nothing like a miracle, but suddenly she had no voice, so she shook her head, wanting to say that a miracle was something better, something far more precious and holy than a poor farmer's daughter, but he laughed again, smoothing her cheek and her lips with the tips of his fingers.

"Like you," he whispered again.

"Hungry, far," Little Frigga said in the morning, and Enid smiled, her eyes still closed, her lips parting to explain what it was that Frigga wanted because she'd spoken to her father in English.

"Hhmmm… and what does Frigga want to eat?" Ivar asked her in his own language.

"Hungry, far!"

"Ask Enid," he said. "Unless you can say it to me in Norse."

"Red, far, bap."

Enid opened her eyes then, that smile on her lips growing into a grin, something warm gripping her heart, but Frigga wasn't pointing at her. She had one little finger poking at her father's cheek, her face scrunching up in a wince.

"Red," she said again, and Ivar watched her closely, his head tilting to the side, his eyes unblinking.

"Where?" he asked.

"Bap!" she said, but this time she smiled. "Hungry, 'Nig!"

Enid laughed then, pulling the girl from Ivar's chest and cradling her in her arms. "Don't teach your father English, Frigga," she said in English. "We're supposed to use it to tell each other secrets when you get older."

"None of my children can keep secrets from me," he said, a sudden smile on his lips. "And they're not going to start now."

Enid stared at him, her eyes lingering on the smile, that one of her own growing softer and warmer. "How much do you understand?" she asked.

"Almost all of it," he answered in Norse.

"Did you always?"

"No," he shook his head. "But I've been listening to you teach Frigga for months now. It's pretty hard to ignore it… and besides, I don't want you turning my daughter against me."

He reached a finger out, poking Enid lightly on her forehead, that smile of his reaching so much more than just his eyes and Enid's hand whipped out, grabbing that finger and biting it so that Frigga would laugh. The girl's face went bright, her cheeks blazing pink and her laughs shrill and light.

"Enid's hungry," she told her.

"Bap, 'Nig!" Frigga laughed again, burying herself in Enid's chest and sighing as Enid reached a hand down, brushing against Frigga's back and kissing the top of her head.

"You're not still sleepy, are you Frigga?"

"Hhmmm…" was all the girl said, her fingers reaching up to rub at her eyes and Enid laughed softly, her nose buried in Frigga's hair, her eyes flicking to look at Ivar.

There was something in the way he looked at her then, something so warm, something that left her heart racing and her skin tingling and she could feel how her own cheeks had gone pink, how suddenly the room seemed too hot and those furs too heavy as he leaned over, catching her lips with his own, his breath coming out in a big burst of warm air through his nose when they met.

"I can't wait to get you back to the farm," he whispered when they parted.

She wanted to ask him why, but all she could do was stare up at him, her cheeks on fire and something inside her melting, and then he laid on his back, reaching a hand out to rest on her knee and sighing.

"You should teach the other two as well," he said. "They could use it when they're older."

That smile left Enid's lips then, something cold, something searing hot springing to her stomach.

"On the raids you mean?" she said, and she watched Ivar study her from the corner of his eye for a moment, his thumb trailing her knee, that light in his eyes somewhat cold and sharp, and then he sighed.

"I understand what you're thinking, Enid, I would think it too… But the only people who really matter are the ones in this room. Don't complicate things, you can't look after everyone."

"I…" Enid started, her teeth clenching together, her forehead furrowing into a deep crease.

"Think about it, Enid," he cut in. "You were on your own in that boat for half a day and nobody came to help you. I left you there on purpose to give them a chance to get you back, but no one risked it. They…" his voice cracked then, his face scrunching up in a fierce scowl as he sighed. "I would die for you, so would my children. Just like you would for them… we're the only ones that matter. So teach them English, maybe one day it will save their lives."