1332 - What is Yet to be Written
Author's Note: This chapter features a very graphicly described love scene that is integral to the story I am writing alongside some NSFW screenshots. Maturity warning for this chapter and paragraphs have been noted accordingly with CWs if you so wish to skip it. Thanks!
The winter felt more brutal than the last few as Osuald had to keep himself warm in bed alone, no supple girl to cuddle up to with love and it didn't hurt any less. His main motivator continued to be his two little tots, Bercthun and Wuffa, but especially Wuffa. He was soon to be a year old yet still required plenty of care and attention.
He was starting to get vocal and gargle out a few vowels everytime Osuald handled his youngest son and it had him smiling. Although he was still chubby cheeked and incredibly young the father could tell that Wuffa bore more of a resemblance to his late wife than Bercthun did, even if he shared the blonde hair with his father.
And when Osuald would need to handle the typical chores of the home during the day Byrhtnoth would step in to mind his grandchildren, happily nurturing and soothing them when they would cry out and ask for his attention. It continued to sadden him just as much as it saddened Osuald how these two babies would grow up without their mother yet Byrhtnoth saw a resemblance in experiences for Osuald also spent his formative years with an absence of a matriarch. He questioned The Watcher why this had to be but, as always, received no reply.
In an attempt to continue sustaining Wuffa's hunger needs and slowly wean him off from breastmilk Lavina was kind enough to put in some elbow grease and extract some of her own milk which Bobby delivered to the Chapmans in a small pail. Not only was Lavina now tending to two babies also but the constant snowstorms made her weary to travel almost every day to feed Wuffa.
They kept the milk frozen in the never-melting snow and away from sunlight and successfully kept it fresh for months to come before Wuffa comfortably began to eat some mashed solids.
To their delight they received word that Linyeve welcomed a darling baby girl into the world during one of the worst blizzards that Praaven had seen in years. With the help and guidance of the most renown midwife situated in Tovar the mother and baby came out of the experience healthy and proud and the Dodson parents named their child Friðegyð. When questioned about their lapse in their naming traditions Linyeve simply answered, "it was time to break the cycle," and nobody needed any more explaining to that statement.
(Quick Author's Note! Friðegyð was rolled automatically by Story Progression as the baby's name and I only noticed several years after that I never changed her name! After searching up the pronunciation the ð letter seems to be like a modern th sound so when I read the name I pronounce it like: Frith-eh-gith. Needed to say this before we may see her name appear once again :P)
The white flakes continued to fall at varying speeds and intensities as January passed them by and Osuald decided he had waited long enough before visiting Marissa like he promised. He felt uncomfortable telling a lie to his honest father, coming up with the excuse of having some business in the city to handle that he will tell about over supper, but he felt like delaying his trip to his rekindled relationship would be dire for her and her child's safety.
He saddled up Gloria, giving her a quick brush before they departed as little snowflakes drifted onto her hair and melted away quickly, and soon he was trudging up the steep mountain and up towards the lake he had fished at before. Soon he could see his destination: the once abandoned and now semi-inhabited fortress where history was crumbling away.
The main barracks proved to be ransacked and dilapidated as he spotted several gaping holes in the roof of the building and he understood now why Marissa decided to find solace in one of the few buildings built onto one of the tall walls. It didn't look comfortable nor warm from the outside but he only hoped she would find safety elsewhere in months to come.
As Gloria's hooves thumped along the ground as she flicked the blanket of snow into an erratic pattern Marissa overheard their approach and was visibly moving through the cabin, red hair visible through the small windows for Osuald to see. As he dismounted the lady swung open the door and briefly stepped outside in nothing more than her everyday dress. She shook hands with her friend before letting out a shiver and the pair hurried on inside.
The indoors seemed to have all of the much needed amenities still intact, a fireplace, a shabby bed, a simple table and chair to eat at and a place to wash up after a meal. It was bare bones but Osuald could see how she could survive here for so long yet he was surprised how she didn't complain about these conditions. There was nothing personalised around him and if he stepped in here while Marissa was out of the home he would never even think anyone lived here.
"Well..." began Osuald as he finished looking around, "I guess this place has got everything you need."
"Oh, no need to be kind Osuald... this place is bleak!" Marissa laughed yet her eyebrows arched into slight embarrassment. "Anything was better than living with Arron but, by The Watcher, I wish I could leave this place."
Osuald didn't exactly know how to react to such a statement for as much as he pitied her he would never simply accept her into his father's home. Maybe he would have begged Byrhtnoth for permission when he was younger but things were very different now. He quickly changed the subject by finally presenting his delivery to her,
"Before I forget, please accept this. It has some salted fish and plenty of vegetables and berries to keep you and your son satiated for the rest of the winter. I only apologise I couldn't bring you more and bring it sooner." As Marissa accepted the parcel she bowed gently and walked to place it on the dining table, patting the top of it and answering,
"I'm sure it's more than plenty for us two, I'm incredibly thankful for your effort Oz." Something about her speaking a more affectionate version of his name got Osuald warm and fuzzy, or perhaps he was just thawing out near the fire as he stood with a smile. Marissa met him back at where he stood and waited for him to say something.
"Speaking of you two, what is your son's name again?" Osuald cocked his head a little to the right inquisitively and Marissa quickly answered,
"Kristoffer."
"Yes, Kristoffer, I remember now. Is... is Kristoffer here right now?" The concept of meeting the child that made Osuald fall out of love with Marissa years back created a knot in his stomach but it was quickly released when his friend revealed the truth.
"Not at the moment. He has been with my mother since yesterday who resides inside the city. As much as my relationship with her has been tense since I was married off her help is very needed, especially during the winter as it's quite difficult to get warm here during a storm." She shrugged at her last statement and a look of uncertainty settled on her face. Osuald pursed his lips and attempted to smile back yet he couldn't help but have pity for her. Marissa sighed,
"Goodness, imagine how different things would have been if I had just accepted your childish advances back when we just met. I wouldn't be hiding out here, that's for sure." A tremble showed in the girl's voice as she looked away but Osuald met her back with a similar thought.
"I'd be lying if I hadn't thought of that since we last saw one another. But it's difficult for me to fantasise about such a thing... I have two little boys at home and..." He wanted to talk about Lana but it didn't feel right.
"And your wife," finished Marissa for Osuald, "you loved your wife and that is a brilliant thing that happened to you. I guess... I'm just envious for not being her sometimes."
"Her name is Lana, and you don't want to be her because she is dead." It was a bluntly grim joke but it escaped Osuald's mouth before he could think twice about it. Thankfully it make Marissa crack up before shooting him a compassionate glance. There was still so much left unsaid between the two, so much trauma and grief and intensity that both of them carried and clearly wanted to talk about but it felt too soon for the both of them.
"How has it been like for you to live without your wife, Oz?" Again with the pet name, Marissa's voice sounded so soothing when she called him that. Osuald guessed it was time to start opening up to each other yet they still awkwardly stood next to the dwindling fire.
"Bloody horrible." Osuald almost coughed out a cry once he finally found the right words to describe his status and had to swallow before he continued further. "It's been so lonely. The winter months would give us plenty of opportunity to share a bed together and now it's just so... cold."
"I understand the feeling," nodded Marissa with her eyes shut for a moment. "I'm lucky to have Kristoffer to snuggle up to in bed when he stays with me but even still it's not exactly what I crave deep down in my soul." She began to give him a suggestive glance and Osuald understood her hint.
"Are you implying the warmth of being bedded?" He raised a brow before Marissa shyly nodded, trying her best not to smile from the silliness of discussing sex so freely with another man. He continued as his lips curled into a smirk also,
"That was one of the best feelings that the winter brought us, that's for sure. I couldn't even tell you the last time Lana and I had spent a night together as she was heavily pregnant before her passing..." His voice trailed off and a deep unsettling feeling began to rise in his chest.
"I-I'm sorry to have brought such a sensitive topic up, Oz," scrambled Marissa as she noticed his face slowly turn grief-stricken. "How foolish of me for talking of such heinous topics and so shortly after your loss." She stepped forward and contemplated if she should somehow physically comfort her friend and soon found her hand on Osuald's shoulder, her thumb gently stroking rhythmically.
The touch, penetrating through his clothes and radiating a warmth, magically soothed him. He glanced down at her dainty hand and thought of the last time Lana had exchanged a loving gesture with him. It had probably been over a year ago by then and even this gentle woman's touch had his tense body begin to melt. How long has his body been this tense for? When was the last time he felt like he could begin to relax?
Unholy thoughts flooded back into his mind just as they did in the Mahlsberg tavern a few months back. He looked back to engage in eye contact with his old friend and suddenly remembered the butterfly at the cemetery, the fluttering symbol of hope crossing his path during his moment of grieving. Perhaps it was time to stop battling what brewed deep inside his body and give in to the changes that simply could not be stopped. Marissa finally let go of Osuald's shoulder and let her hand fall down by her side yet she still remained close to her long-lost love.
A moment of silence fell between Osuald and Marissa and they stood quietly in the abandoned guard post. They both felt like they were hiding so much of their grief from one another, unsure if it was wise to commit to the vulnerability, and so their eyes shifted around the room. After the several seconds of awkward silence their eyes met again and locked in place.
Marissa's buttery brown eyes, large and beautiful, began to dissolve into a feeling of longing. They felt like they stared directly into Osuald's core as they connected with his grief stricken blue windows to his soul. He began to shame himself again for the feelings he was deciphering deep in his chest and shifted his weight between his legs. Then, before he could give it a second thought, he launched himself at Marissa for a kiss.
CW: NSFW images, detailed descriptions of kissing & sex.
She stiffened, surprised by his push to romance, and her mind swirled with doubts and concerns. She had just listened to her old flame choke back tears about his deceased wife and now he had locked lips with her... what's a girl to do in a situation like this? Then her heart took the lead, quickening with every pulse, flowing hot blood through her limbs, and she began to relax before reciprocating his advances with another kiss.
The reunited pair began to ravenously kiss each other, their mouths smacking and creating a variety of pleasurable noises. Osuald's hands wandered across Marissa's arms and back, one hand keeping her pressed tightly against his warm body, and their feet began to gravitate and lead them towards the bed at the end of the room. Their minds had gone blank, not a shred of grief or worry passing them by, they had launched into pure and primal lust.
As they fell onto the bed Osuald clasped his arms around Marissa and flipped her to lay on top of him. He paused their snogging for a moment to meet eyes with her and admire her lechery-twisted expression before letting out a growl of passion and forcing his tongue back into her mouth. Osuald had never sensed such a primal urge for sex before; every sexual encounter he had with his late wife was a moment of pure passion and methodical connection. And yet this is who he was with Marissa, at least in this moment, a version of himself he did not recognise.
Marissa pushed herself up and began to straddle Osuald, her hands vigorously untying her corset as she breathed sharply. The man followed suit and reached for his belt buckle, not letting his eyes wander away from hers. No words were uttered in these desperate moments to shed their clothes, the room was only filled with sounds of huffs and whimpers during a race to see who would get naked first and it happened to be a tie.
The place they were conducting their copulation was a cold and crumbling ruin so they pulled out the fur blanket underneath them and threw it over Marissa's shoulders as she continued to sit atop Osuald. The skin of their torsos met in a hot spark and Osuald found himself welcomed inside his mate underneath the covers. They progressed to move in a rhythm that only grew faster and Marissa had to grasp for the headboard that she saw before her. Her face shifted into an array of expressions, pleasure, peace, relief and even pain, before they came to the finale.
As Osuald made his big finish he tilted his head as far back as he could, the feather pillow underneath him bunching around his neck, and he breathed out a loud groan. They had reached the final state of euphoria yet it was short lived for the titillated man as he relaxed his neck to finally look upon the girl he bedded and his heart sank.
He knew it was Marissa that he gripped onto, the one he was filling up, yet when he moved his head back into a comfortable position a large part of him wanted to see Lana looking back at him. It wasn't the case, it would never be the case again, and he felt his breath begin to quicken in what felt like panic.
Marissa shared so many similar qualities to his deceased wife. Her skin was just as supple, maybe even more supple than Lana's, her hair was long and sleek, she was slender but soft in all the right places... but she was not Lana. She didn't have the ebony hair that Osuald loved, the fair complexion that blushed with every compliment he sent her way, the sky blue eyes that contained so much love for him. None of that was presented before him. His heart began to break into pieces before he could even have a moment of bliss after his finish and he could not stand it.
The naked girl began to slowly catch on that something wasn't right but before she could think of saying anything Osuald held her close and rolled her onto her back as he held himself above her. He continued the intimacy, burying his head in her neck and messy auburn hair and kissing her up and down softly. His breathing continued to be laboured and he did his best to fight off the tears in his eyes but he could feel them drip out through his closed eyelashes and into the girl's hair.
Marissa relaxed on her back and accepted more affection from her partner for the morning, closing her eyes every so often, but her breathing slowed down while Osuald's didn't. She couldn't tell why in that moment but her eyes grew misty as she pondered why he acted this way before he finally gave up and stopped his kissing. He grew limp on top of her body and moved his head sideways to nuzzle into her jawline, his breaths becoming scattered and choppy. They lay there for a minute or two before Marissa pulled away to lay several inches from him and analyse his demeanor.
She grabbed fistfuls of her hair and pulled them towards her to reveal the confusing man and found him in tears. His nose began to turn red from his silent crying and he refused to look at her at first. She slowly placed her hand on his cheek, stroking away any stray droplets that hit her fingers. He finally looked at her, his lips tight and his chin quivering, and found that Marissa had the look of pity. He hated how he felt and what he thought, how could he possibly bed another woman so soon after the passing of his darling wife?
No matter, Marissa extended her arms to invite Osuald onto her chest and he choked back sobs, not wanting to be so broken in his long-lost love's embrace, but it was impossible. They continued to stay silent for another while longer until Osuald ran out of tears to cry. Marissa had been gliding her hand down his short, wavy, blond hair while he sobbed but began to curl his wavy strands in between her slender fingers. Soon she heard him finally speak with a crack in his voice,
"I'm sorry." She moved her head down to try meet his gaze but he refused to look back at her. "I'm sorry for everything I have done."
"You have nothing to be sorry about," spoke Marissa with a genuine tone, placing a hand under Osuald's chin in an attempt for him to look at her. He refused to move until she finally forced it to be so thus he looked up at her, reddened eyes, nose and lips, and he sniffled back his grief. Marissa continued,
"You are a grieving man, you are allowed to feel sorrow and anguish and every other sad feeling there is. Don't be sorry for crying in front of me."
He sniffed once more, producing a loud and wet noise, before responding, "I just hate how I cried at the worst possible moment. This shouldn't have happened-"
"But it has happened, we cannot change that," quickly responded Marissa as she cupped his face in her hand. Her gaze bounced between his two wet eyes and she decided to ask, "What were you thinking about when you finished?"
Osuald let out a deep sigh and bit down on his lip. It felt wrong to open up endlessly to this girl yet he was naked and as vulnerable physically as he would ever be with her... would it be so wrong to be vulnerable emotionally too? He caved and told her how he imagined his wife as they finished but assured her that he was making love to her and not Lana before that. Her face did not shift at that fact, she almost expected it, and listened to him carefully.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect that to happen," she finally said, relaxing her neck and letting her eyes gaze upon the ceiling as she thought. "I can't imagine how it must be to lose someone you love so dearly so soon... I, on the other hand, can only imagine how the man that was meant to be my caring husband would die."
CW: minor descriptions of abuse.
This snapped Osuald out of his grief and piqued his interest in Marissa's thoughts and past. She looked back at him and revealed something, "Arron was an evil man. He had done so many vile things to me: slap me, scream at me, beat me on occasion. He even broke the sacred nature of intercourse by abusing me in my most vulnerable moments..." Her voice trailed off before she shifted to lay on her side and take Osuald's flaccid hand in hers, looking deep in his eyes as she continued,
"I really did not believe I would be able to follow through with what we did in bed today... I had not been bedded by another ever since I escaped the grasp of that man and I worried I would cry just as you did. But I took back my power all thanks to you, Oz. Thank you."
His brows furrowed in shock and his eyes dried up after hearing such news. They lay there in their exposed truths and witnessed a new connection between one another, nothing lustful about this one this time. Osuald soon brought Marissa into a tight embrace and held her as tight as he could before he whispered an apology into her ears.
He thought back on the suggestions he made just ten years prior, how he would accept her into his home if she did not want to marry the man her mother set her up with, and he felt a twinge of guilt for not acting on such an immature decision. Yet, if he went through with that, he would have never married Lana and he never would have little Bercthun and Wuffa back at home. Perhaps everything had to happen for a reason, that The Watcher had a complex plan for them all, but that was all out of his power and he would be wasting time if he dwelled on it.
The naked couple spent the next hour with their bodies half under the fur blanket and half warmed simply by their bodies in contact, spilling their hearts out about what they had to endure in their hardships over the last several years. Osuald spoke in detail about the night Lana passed away and shed a few tears more in the process and Marissa met him back with tears of her own. She spoke of the night that she finally decided to run away and escape the hell she lived in with her son Kristoffer and how difficult it was for her to sustain the two of them.
It felt amazing for both of them to have someone that would listen to their worries with confidence and share an empathetic shoulder to cry on. The bliss of honesty they shared in that hour was better than any climax either of them would have faced in intercourse, yet their bleeding heart talk ended in a reprieve of slow kissing. It was the perfect seal of privacy and confidentiality the star-crossed lovers experienced and soon Osuald had to get dressed and venture down the mountain back home.
CW over.
Marissa lay nestled in the bundled up blanket and watched her rekindled romance get himself clothed again. She had never seen him this bare when they had initially met but she can tell that he has aged well, with his back and arms fully developed and handsomely muscular at eighteen years of age. He glanced back at her every time he found another article of his clothing and smiled at her. She moved one of her legs, bending it closer to her chest, and sliding it out from underneath the covers. It was a sly attempt at a seduction for him to stay but it was purely playful as she revealed her lightly tanned skin in wait. Soon enough Osuald was dressed.
"I'll come back again," promised Osuald. "I don't have the knowledge of when but I will bring more produce for you to feed yourself and your son with." Marissa began to sit up in bed now and sighed.
"Thank you, Oz, you're far too kind." He began to fix up his collar and belt before he made it to the door but was stopped by Marissa's voice,
"Wait one second! I want to see you off." She flung the blanket off of her body and sat on the edge of the bed, her back to the man she was just in bed with. She found her dress in a clump on the floor and slid it over her arms and covered her body with it. She was going to get fully dressed soon but didn't want to delay Osuald any further. She held the dress together with her arms crossed and led the man to the front door and stood there before he made his way out.
They both hesitated to confirm what it was that they were now... lovers? A once off fling? Committed? That was a discussion for another time. Marissa only leaned in to kiss Osuald on the cheek and thank him again for his time and she watched him walk to his horse through the snow. He saddled up, waved his girl goodbye and trotted off down the hill.
He was still buzzing after the encounter but soon began to feel a rock settle in his stomach the closer he got to home. He kept his first meeting with Marissa a secret from his father... was it wise to keep it a secret still especially after he suddenly bedded Marissa? As soon as he saw his farmhouse across the river he knew he had to make a decision and make it fast and so he did. He brought Gloria inside the stable and overheard his father eating lunch in the next room over.
Once he stepped into the kitchen and Byrthtnoth noticed him he dropped his spoon and waved to his son, swallowing his vegetable soup quickly and licking any excess off of his moustache before speaking.
"Welcome back, my boy. I hope your trip was a success." The men exchanged smiles and Osuald sat across from him, getting closer to the fire to begin warming up for the second time of the day.
"I got a lot done, yes," admitted Osuald and this time it wasn't a lie, he was just withholding some truth which he knew he had to reveal eventually. Byrhtnoth scraped his wooden spoon along the bottom of his bowl, gathering all of the remaining contents into one last bite.
"The boys are taking a nap right now," he spoke before accepting a spoonful. "Though I'm concerned for Wuffa, he seems to have developed a cough from the cold. I wrapped him up a little warmer in his crib and I hope it passes soon."
"I pray to The Watcher to let it be so," answered Osuald, his voice hesitating to begin the deep conversation. "Father, may I speak to you about something important?"
"Why of course you can, when have I ever said you cannot?" chuckled Byrhtnoth as he pushed his bowl away from him. "Come with me to my bedroom, we can speak there." Osuald followed his father and was surprised at how much warmer his room was. He supposed that because the room shared a wall with the back of the fireplace it radiated a unique warmth and he loosened up before talking about Marissa to Byrhtnoth.
"Father, I haven't been exactly truthful about where I had gone today... I had some business to take care of, yes, but there's something more to that that I must tell you." Byrhtnoth's eyebrows began to rise slightly but he stayed calm. He knew his son was a good lad and it would be out of the ordinary for him to have gotten into some unforgivable mess so he let him continue talking.
"Last year, the same day I had gone to see Lana's parents, I went to the Mahlsberg tavern to warm up and have a long awaited drink. There I... I bumped into Marissa again." With this statement Byrhtnoth's eyebrows finally shot up to their maximum height and his mouth grew agape.
"Oh, really? What chance, how does she seem to be doing?" Byrhtnoth genuinely was curious for her wellbeing, she was the same age as Osuald and he had the same care and curiousity for her as he did for his son.
"She has had some hardships in her life also, I'd be happy to tell you about them later... but I went to see her earlier today," revealed Osuald. Byrhtnoth crossed his arms and nodded as he began to understood what was unfurling before him.
"You still love her, don't you boy?" What was with everyone being so blunt and straight to the point? pondered Osuald for a moment before exhaling and nodding, like a child caught doing something he shouldn't have.
"There's still a shred of me that has feelings for her but I have been fighting them all winter since meeting her again. Lana... it's too soon since her death, I-"
"As many wise men before me have said before: love is fickle," spoke Byrhtnoth with compassion. "We are lucky to have more than one love in our lives and we never know when that love will blossom, like a rose on a summer's day." He studied his son's face before he continued, an expression bearing surprise yet comfort from his words plastered on his youthful face.
"When your mother had died, fifteen years ago now, I knew my heart was made for her and for her only. There were many moments that I felt that deep and aching loneliness and there were many women I passed by that looked beautiful but... my heart was always reserved for Olyff. I made peace with the fact that I would stay alone until my death but you should feel no shame for finding another life partner, especially with how young you are, Osuald."
This was probably the first time in his life that Osuald heard his father admit some hard hitting truths about love. As much as it pained to see his father in deep longing he was honoured to be the son to a couple that loved each other so deeply. And Byrhtnoth was right, he is incredibly young, and it would be strange for him to stay alone for the rest of his days. They stood in acknowledgement for a moment before Byrhtnoth continued,
"You have every right to grieve and take your time with loving someone again but if things are naturally developing into something more than what you imagined... then take it, Oz. Accept her love and let it bring you joy because you deserve to be happy, always." Osuald's eyes began to grow misty once again, he was incredibly touched to hear his father say such words to him, and he pulled him in for a hug.
Osuald rested his chin on his father's boney shoulder and held him tightly. Byrhtnoth pat his son on the back and let him get his emotions out, supporting the gesture with more kind words,
"The last thing I want to see you be is sad and alone, and you have endured a full year of such emotions. The Watcher is giving you a sign that you'd had enough of this pain, accept her love and let it bring you joy."
Those words ringed in Osuald's mind and he decided, then and there, that it would become his mantra for the next while. He finally pulled away and brought a sleeve up to his eyes to dry them before thanking his father for such a meaningful conversation.
Before they parted ways to check on the young tots in the other home Osuald shared one other experience he witnessed: the butterfly. As he told his father about the fluttering symbol Byrhtnoth clasped his hands together and talked about what a wonderful sign that was. His heart was warmed further once he heard Osuald describe how the insect landed on his wife's grave to which all he could say was,
"Spirits know what is best for us. Osuald, your mother spoke to you. She's telling you to pursue your feelings. May Watcher rest her soul."
The winter began to draw to a close but some sleet was still present across the land. Byrhtnoth felt it right to finally fulfill his promise to travel and visit his daughter and meet his two grandchildren in Lughaven. Osuald promised to stay home and mind his children as he waited for the rivers to defrost and for the soil to become ripe again.
Wuffa continued to fuss day and night as his cold didn't seem to be leaving his system. The men grew worried for the little boy's health but continued to keep him as warm as they could and administer various herbs and tonics to try strengthen his body and fight off his ailment. Byrhtnoth kissed the little boy goodbye and travelled to Lavina's home in the early morning.
He galloped on Gloria's back to save his joints from groaning in pain from trudging through the cold melting snow and before he knew it he was right outside the walls of the Smith's home, the pink and brightening morning sky behind him. Lavina noticed his arrival and stepped outside to usher him in, waving her hand as a greeting and to guide her father inside.
Byrhtnoth had visited this home before many a time but most often back when Bobby's father was still alive. The outdoor smithy remained unchanged but it seemed like the abode had a bit of an extension built on. He smiled as he climbed the steps to the front door and welcomed the warm air that filled the inside of the structure.
The Smith home was an open plan and everything you needed was in sight. A single hearth warmed the wooden house and near it was a prep table alongside their dining area. Nearby was the cot where little Alvredus slept and next to it lay some toys and baby supplies. Gisla was sitting in the bath on one end of the room, splashing in the warm water with glee. A wooden divider stood in between the living space and the bedroom and the curtain was closed shut for guests to not peek into. Overall Byrhtnoth thought the space was humble and not too far from how Lavina was raised at home.
"Thank you for coming around, father," introduced Lavina as she shut the door tightly behind her. "I was in the middle of giving Gisla a bath, do you mind waiting a moment while I finish washing her?"
"Of course, my love, no rush at all." Byrhtnoth looked around and noticed that Alvredus was waking up from his quiet slumber. "Do you mind if I hold your son? He seems to have awakened."
"Please, he's all yours!" announced Lavina as she washed the suds off from Gisla's hair in the tub. "I know you've made your way here to meet him specifically so spend as much time as you like with him."
He thanked his daughter and turned back to face the small crib. He scooped the little boy, only a couple months old, into his arms and handled him gently. Alvredus stared at him intently and analysed his grandfather's face, one which smiled with all the love in the world, happy to see his grandson.
Byrhtnoth kept his hand secure on the back of Alvredus' head and brought him up to his shoulder and cuddled him. The baby cooed and gargled a little but he rubbed his back gently and rocked side to side. He felt immensely lucky to relfect on how many offspring he had in that moment, three living children and six wonderful grandchildren. He felt complete, even if he still missed his darling wife.
Behind him Lavina was drying Gisla and slipping a fresh linen dress onto her small body and soon announced that they were done. Byrhtnoth placed Alvredus back into his small crib and came to meet his daughter holding his granddaughter.
Gisla was still a shy enough girl and clung close to her mother, nuzzling her face into her neck sometimes before turning back to look at Byrhtnoth once again. Lavina smilled from ear to ear as she watched her father try to tickle and make her daughter laugh.
"She's growing up to be a fair little lady," spoke Byrhtnoth as he pinched Gisla's cheek. "They both have your pretty nose but they seemed to have inherited Bobby's brown hair."
"Indeed they have," acknowledged Lavina, "but I quite like it, I've always been soft to dark hair... it kind of reminds me of mother, or at least how you described her."
"You're absolutely spot on," agreed Byrhtnoth with a wide smile. Gisla grew bored quickly and began to fuss and wriggle in Lavina's hands. She did not fight her and instead placed her confidently onto her two feet and watched her waddle away to the toys near the fire. Byrhtnoth was stunned to see how well she walked and complimented her stride.
"How is Bobby, by the way," asked the proud grandfather eventually. "He had popped over a few times but I see he is not around here today."
"He's out on a delivery to the outskirts of Praaven," explained Lavina, "he has been working rigorously on an important order for some men-at-arms and he was promised a hefty coin for his work!"
"I'm delighted to hear that business continues to be going well," shared Byrhtnoth. "It makes me even happier knowing that his father would be mighty proud to see how well he has taken the family business... do you think Alvredus will follow in his father's steps also?"
"Well, it's far too soon to tell!" jested Lavina, glancing towards the crib, "but it would be wonderful if he took interest in the smithy and continued the tradition. I know Bobby would put in a lot of effort to teach him the right way to make a blade."
"I'm sure he would," agreed Byrhtnoth. He suddenly exclaimed in remembrance and fished out a small pouch from his belt and handed it to his daughter. "I'm aware that you have been maintaining a wonderful garden of your own here but as the winter month's come to an end please have the last of our salted fish."
"Oh my goodness, I can't remember the last time that I had eaten your famous fish! Thank you so much father, I'll make sure to make it for dinner tonight. I can't wait!" Her joy was honest and true and he was glad to have brightened her day.
They spent another hour conversing and talking about family, their health and her brother. Byrhtnoth reported to her how Osuald had still been in grief but it was nothing to how he was last time she saw him and even hinted at the possible romance between him and Marissa. Lavina was quite shocked to hear the last bit of news but wished him luck, also understanding that he was too young to stay a widower for the rest of his days.
And soon enough their meeting wrapped up and Byrhtnoth went to untie Gloria from the post outside. Lavina and Gisla waved him goodbye and watched him ride off towards the center of the village before hiding back inside the warm structure. Byrhtnoth was to go home soon but while he was in Lughaven he decided to visit the cemetery and check up on the state of the headstones of his family.
Things stood just as they were before only dusted by dripping snow now that they reached the early days of March. He stood in between the graves of his late wife and poor Lana and as his mind swirled of the two ladies tears began to drip from his eyes. Taken aback by his grief he coughed out a few sobs; he thought the pain of his loss would dissipate by now but it felt as strong as ever. Time did not feel like it healed his wounds, it only showed how long ago the people he loved most left this plane of existence and left him alone.
He gathered himself eventually and dried his eyes, there was still much more life to live as he remembered his offspring once more. Life felt unfair at times but there were far too many joyous moments to ignore and so he saddled back onto Gloria for the third time that day and departed from the village and back home.
And soon the snow had fully melted away and the sun began to warm the lands again. Osuald spent time planting crops on their farm just as he did last year and refrained from fishing much to find more time for his little boys. Byrhtnoth helped on the farm also by watering the crops while Osuald was busy with his sons but it seemed true that Osuald had now become the official man of the Chapman family.
Wuffa healed from his cold during the winter but soon he was feeling unwell once more. His cough grew into a hacking and the little boy couldn't help but cry loudly when his body ached all over. No matter how many various remedies they tried to expel another bout of influenza from the boy he seemed to only be getting worse.
CW: infant death, mourning.
Until the end finally came. Just a week before Wuffa's birthday and the anniversary of Lana's passing the little boy faced his worst day yet. The little boy lay in his crib with blue lips and was filled with weak confusion. The men of the house felt defeated as they had done everything they could to try and make him better but to no avail. One night, just before Osuald retreated to bed, he found Wuffa unconscious and not breathing in his crib.
Osuald stood before him, looking down at the little body that was once his youngest son. A thought crossed his mind before his grief settled in and he shuddered from it: what was the point of all of this? The child that inevitably killed his wife died only a year later, it all felt like a wasted effort. The motionless child, growing more blue by the hour, was not at fault. He never asked to be born in such a gruesome and grotesque way, and he especially never planned on dying from such a threatening disease.
Soon Osuald bent down and kneeled before the crib, extending a hand slowly, afraid to feel the icy coldness of death on his fingertips once more. At the point of contact came a familiar feeling, the same that plagued Lana's corpse at the time of her death. The boy's blood was still and Osuald felt lost. He covered Wuffa with a small blanket and fell into bed, leaving the situation to be dealt with in the morning.
And once he awoke reality finally set in. He had lost yet another loved one and there was nothing he could do to prepare for the newly unearthed grief. He heaved forward and cried again, he was so tired of shedding tears this past year but they just kept on coming. He ultimately gathered himself together and went down to have breakfast with his father and tell him the grim news.
Byrhtnoth was chipper by the fire as he mixed a batch of porridge by the fire. He knew Wuffa had not been doing well but he never thought that his demise would be just around the corner. He asked Osuald how the tot was doing and only when he wasn't met with a quick answer back he turned to see a sorrowful expression on his son's face again. Flashbacks to the day Lana died reflected in his mind and his heart sank, stumbling backwards a little as his legs failed to keep him upright.
"Don't tell me Wuffa has passed on," breathed Byrhtnoth with a baffled tone. Osuald gave a small nod but did not cry, only a frown cam across his face. Byrhtnoth swallowed his grief and stepped closer to his son and tried to comfort him.
He tried to tell him how The Watcher had planned this from the beginning, that Wuffa's soul was too fragile for the difficult world that they lived in, that he could not survive without the warmth of a mother's love for this long. Every excuse he could think of was blurted out but Osuald interrupted him,
"But how did Lavina and I survive so well without our mother's love? Why did Wuffa have to die?" The young man had a point and Byrhtnoth was left speechless. He flopped his arms down to his sides, once holding onto his son's shoulders in an attempt to comfort him, and he just weakly responded,
"I don't know." This was the real answer. None of them would ever know why this had to happen but it didn't sting any less. Byrhtnoth said it again, "I don't know," and soon his shoulders jumped as he began to sob.
This was the last loss Byrhtnoth could handle, he had seen too much death in his time and his hard-shelled demeanor finally dropped. Whether it was his final break or maybe he felt fully cared for by his son he couldn't keep it together and cried intensely. The knowledge of an innocent little boy enduring a difficult death weighed on his soul and soon he was swooped into the arms of his son and comforted thoroughly.
The old man lay his head on his son's shoulder and let it all out, tears, snot and anguished moans were released from his body and Osuald pat and rubbed his father's back. He did not have much to say but he just tried his best to let him know that the worst is over. He decided that his father was there for him so closely when Lana died and he would be there just as close during Wuffa's departure.
The funeral was small and quick and Wuffa was laid to rest right next to his mother's grave. The priest from the Lughaven church made the ceremony quaint yet honourary to the boy's short life and soon the men had to go back home and get back to work on tending the crops and nurturing the last child between Osuald and Lana. Byrhtnoth made sure to say a quick prayer in the holy church to beg for The Watcher to keep Lana's only child safe from any harm.
And as expected, a week later, Osuald made his way back to the graveyard to pay his respects to Lana on her one year anniversary of her death. On his journey there he picked some of spring's first blooming wildflowers and once he stood before her tombstone he placed the delicate petals next to her etched name. Wuffa's grave looked as it were settling also, the dirt becoming firmer and a trickle of grass growing along the edge of the digging site.
To Osuald's surprise he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him and turned to see Marissa, slowly approaching with her own little bouquet of mountain flowers. A smile crossed the young man's face and he extended his arms to hug the lady who came to visit and pay her own respects. He was stunned to see her yet very touched that she remembered the date of Lana's passing.
As she placed the flowers next to the ones he offered up to The Watcher she began to speak,
"I hope I am not intruding on your grieving here. I wanted to make a gesture of respect and take a moment to... ask for her spirit's blessing in the connection we have become to form." She spoke with a lilt in her voice, melodic and comforting. Osuald nodded and took one of Marissa's hands in his as they stood side by side.
"I'm honoured to have you stand by me," he began. "The flowers are beautiful, those were some of her favourites too. I think she would be happy to receive these." They stood quietly and Osuald's breath began to become shaky eventually. Marissa wrapped herself around his arm and tried her best to be a beacon of support on such a tragic day. Through a broken voice he revealed another truth she had not known up until this moment,
"I had to bury my youngest just days ago." He gestured to the small grave that was positioned next to Lana's and suddenly Marissa gasped. She felt horrible for not noticing it first, she was so focused on Lana and then Osuald and she pulled her new love into a tight hug.
"By The Watcher, my deepest condolences, Oz." She thought to herself once she said it, how much more grief could surround this poor man? Once she pulled away he told her the details and she even shed some tears in solidarity. To lose a child is never easy, especially when they are so young. They indulged in their intimately open moment until another visitor came to the cemetery and decided it was best to part ways for the time being. They bid one another farewell and Osuald promised to visit her again after the harvest.
CW over.
Bercthun was their number one priority now and all eyes were on him. Byrhtnoth couldn't help but feel his face shift into a grief-stricken appearance each time he approached Bercthun in the mornings but as soon as he called out "gra-papa!" his sorrow fizzled away. The boy was to turn three years old in September and was healthier than ever and so they showered him with love and attention equally.
Another living being that they had to care for other than the last remaining child in the Chapman home is the horses. As the summer brought brilliant warmth it was the perfect time to cut down the grass in the large fields and dry it all into delicious hay for the horses to indulge on. Both Gloria and Sylvian nibbled graciously on such hay and later were taken on rides across Praaven.
And with a blink of an eye summer turned to autumn and soon the first snowfall graced the land once more. The harvest was bountiful yet smaller than always as more death plagued the family and prevented them from working their hardest. They set aside enough for them to survive the winter, but not enough to overindulge on, and then spared a batch for Marissa and the rest was to be delivered to the keep.
Byrhtnoth missed the free feeling of galloping across the fields on a mighty steed and offered to deliver their last produce to the castle himself. Osuald didn't have any qualms about his offer and helped him saddle up Gloria and watched him ride off through the thin layer of snow that had settled on the ground.
Once he reached the castle's gate he spotted Frank and a young child working hard at building a snow dome, similar to what he had built many years back with Eddida and Linyeve when they were children also. The boy was revealed to be Edwardo, the next in line for the throne of Praaven, and Byrhtnoth made sure to bow before him and address him as intended, a young prince who would someday be fit to rule the kingdom.
Inside he did not find King Sidgurd once again. The king's aide informed him that he was overseas once again, attempting to settle a strife and disagreement that the high king of England was beginning to have with the king of France, and so he delivered his package to him instead.
To his delight Shavonne, his eldest granddaughter, had been visiting her father inside the castle and struck up a conversation with her grandfather. He hadn't seen her ever since he heard of the news of her marrying and giving birth to her first child and instantly wanted to know how she was doing.
She confirmed her statement of not wanting another child until she was more mature but shared that she loved little Wilnothe more than she could ever imagine. She hoped that he could meet her one day and promise each other that they would make that wish come true.
The months passed smoothly and the snow kept on packing up across the fields and against their home. Even amongst their grief they felt like they needed some holiday cheer and decided to organise another gift giving celebration and made sure to invite all of their closest friends and family. It was a sort of inauguration of their timber home as they hadn't hosted a party there but they set up a rug to place their gifts upon and kept the hearth roaring and warm as they greeted their guests into their home.
The first to arrive was Lavina and Catherine. The two ladies had struck up a brilliant relationship which felt unlikely to Byrhtnoth but the neighbours maintained a closeness like no other. Lavina apologised for Bobby's absence at the celebration but was quickly forgiven once she explained that he stayed home to care for their two young children. Catherine pushed to mind the tots and let the parents celebrate in peace but Bobby urged that he hadn't spent enough time with them himself.
Osuald had met with Marissa enough times throughout the year to feel comfortable to reintroduce her to his family and so she made her appearance with her son Kristoffer. Osuald's nerves in meeting the boy were nonexistent at the party as he already had his first encounter with him when he visited his mother a couple months back.
Kristoffer was wary and kept an eye out for any strange behaviour from Osuald, a natural skepticism towards a new lover of his mother's, but was a friendly and social chap nonetheless. He stayed close to his mother throughout the celebration but was happy to play when other children showed up also.
He loved the hand carved rocking horse that stood in the children's room of the wooden abode and played alongside Bercthun who happily nibbled on the ear of a stuffed bear. There was a significant age difference of five years between the two firstborns but they found a common language through play for the evening.
When Byrhtnoth witnessed the innocent scene he couldn't help but have his lip quiver from bittersweet nostalgia. He reminisced on how all of his little girls, and Osuald, rocked on that horse that his father had gifted many decades ago and wondered where had the time gone? Even with a few chips and snags along the woodgrain he was still so proud it stood sturdy and fun loving.
Next to arrive was the Dodson household. August and Linyeve brought both of their children along with them and Byrhtnoth was ecstatic to meet Friðegyð for the first time. Although she had now been almost a year old she was still just as dependent as a newborn and he relished in her beauty. They kept her happy and calm in a crib upstairs and checked on her regularly.
One thing that the Chapman men noticed was that Friðegyð had a very unique appearance. What at first looked like blonde hair similar to August's soon looked far more fine and closer to white than a fair colour, and her eyes too bore a lack of colour. Only time would tell what she would grow up to be but the men couldn't help but think of folktales of albino children when they looked upon her.
Byrhtnoth gave just as much attention to February as he did to Friðegyð and was shocked to see how tall she was getting! It was to be her tenth birthday next year and she enthused at how excited she was to get a famous Chapman honey cake during her celebration. Byrhtnoth got her even more excited to open up some presents which they were to begin doing soon.
The last to arrive was Frank in the company of Edwardo. Everyone stood up and bowed accordingly when they became aware of his presence but the boy insisted that they need not give him special treatment for they day, no matter how much he genuinely enjoyed being lorded over. Frank explained that the King and Queen of Praaven felt it neccesary for the boy to witness a typical peasant celebration and what better family to send him to but the Chapmans!
And with that people took their seats, and when there were no seats they took a stand, and watched each person open up their presents titled with their name. Many of the presents that the women had gifted to others were knitted or sewn garments, which the friends were not against receiving. Many men gifted some hand crafted tools and decorations too while several people found a spare coin to fetch a gift crafted by a professional from Praaven's city. The gift exchange was a great success and soon it was time for merriment and socialising.
The Chapman men offered everyone some warm cider and plenty of portions of fresh stew to go around and everyone got to filling themselves up with hearty delicacies. Siblings and friends had time to catch up and talk about various pieces of news they hadn't been able to share.
Linyeve approached Osuald for the first time since Lana's passing and finally passed on her condolences, in her own words from the bottom of her heart. When she had learned, then and there, that Osuald had to bury his youngest son this year also her face had dropped and her words filled with empathy; she had lost far too many children herself and hated that her brother had to go through the same grief. Yet a small part of her was glad that someone finally could truly understand what she had gone through.
Linyeve's eldest girl, February, had sneaked outside to play with the little chicks that scampered around the chicken coop that they kept behind the stone home. The Dodsons had no farm animals of their own on their land so to pet and play with some chickens was incredibly novel for the young girl. She was scolded thoroughly after being found outside by her mother as the weather was frightfully cold outdoors.
Others were curious to hear how differently peasant living was to living as a royal. They gathered around Frank and Edwardo and asked prying questions, wondering what they ate, how they slept, how many servants they had, and so on. Frank kept to himself with some details while Edwardo was ready to reveal it all and speak about it with a little snark and pride.
Those who had a large distance to travel didn't overstay their welcome and made their way back home as soon as they setting sun reached the horizon. Osuald had extended his hospitality to Marissa and Kristoffer as he hated to imagine how they would need to trudge back up the mountain to their crumbling shack and let them spend a night or two inside their home. They had two spare beds ready to be used next to Osuald's bedroom and the mother and son happily accepted the proposal.
Lavina and Catherine were the last to leave and soon Byrthnoth took charge of cleaning up after their celebration. Osuald went to feed and tuck in Bercthun for the night upstairs and Marissa extended a hand to his father in helping with the cleaning. Byrhtnoth joked at how long it felt that this home didn't have a women's touch to the chores around the home and she met him back with a comment on how she missed the rugged strength of a man in hers.
Once the pair were finished the old man excused himself to prepare for bed and wished her and her son a goodnight. She found Osuald upstairs in the timber home and asked how he was doing, admiring the adorable face that Bercthun made as he fell asleep. She mentioned that Kristoffer was still not ready to sleep and instead found entertainment with playing at the dominoes table by himself to which Osuald chuckled. She offered a little romantic suggestion while they waited for the child to tire himself out and Osuald agreed.
The couple stepped outside, Kristoffer's counting and make believe play audible through the window, and dusted away some snow to sit down into. Their breaths fogged the air around them and they became comfortable as they looked at the night sky above them. Feelings stirred inside of Osuald's chest as they got situated on the freezing ground, feelings that were positive and negative swirling all into one.
The last time he gazed upon the stars like this was with Lana. It felt like an eternity since that moment yet just looking up into the sky had him feeling like it was happening all over again. Marissa noticed him begin to disassociate and pulled him back to the present by whispering in his ear,
"Has your backside become frozen yet?" It was a perfectly immature comment to make to snap Osuald back into reality and he snapped his head to look at her before chuckling like a little child.
"A little bit. What about you?"
"Can't feel a thing down there," she laughed. "I thought this would be much more romantic but with the snow and the clouds covering half of the night sky... I think we should go back indoors!" The pair concluded their stargazing a little earlier than expected but Osuald was relieved by that decision, not just for his freezing backside but also for his mind.
As they dusted themselves off once they were upright they could still hear Kristoffer clicking away at dominoes, not ready for slumber. The couple shared a look, gazing into each other's eyes, and realised they hadn't had a time for bonding in quite some time. They melted in each other's stare and Osuald finally broke the stiffening silence,
"I've missed you, Marissa."
"My, I've missed you too." As she finished responding she pulled Osuald by the arms into a passionate kiss. It felt correct to share this smooching embrace outdoors, away from a children's prying eyes and alone enough to ooze a little lust into the moment. The thing that made them pull away was Kristoffer yelling out for his mother, searching for her inside, to which she detached quickly and asked him to keep quiet as Bercthun slept quietly upstairs.
Osuald led his guests to the upstairs bedroom which kept two shabby single beds, each pressed against a wall on either side, and Marissa asked for Osuald to give them some privacy to help Kristoffer unclothe for sleep. He excused himself and spent some time pacing by the fire as he waited for his love to be finished with her son and soon he heard Kristoffer settle into bed and be tucked in by the loving mother.
CW: brief descriptions of kissing & sex, mention of death.
When she emerged through the curtain from the other room there was an instant suggestive expression painted on her seductive face and Osuald couldn't help but mirror her expression. She strutted over to stand in front of him and this time it was Osuald that pulled her in for a kiss. The comforting warmth of the fire accompanied their almost silent kisses and soon it felt too hot to stand near the flame for their blood pumped as fast as it did months ago.
They both agreed simultaneously that conducting a copulation in this room would be close to sin, with a child in the next room over and his father just under the floorboards beneath them. Marissa asked about the bedroom in the other home and Osuald hesitated. He had slept in the bed many nights now but it still was the death place of his late wife... to have intercourse there felt even worse than sin.
Before he could say yes or no Marissa was already pulling him along by the hand and down the ladder towards the timber house. Osuald's mind raced and his breathing quickened, similar to his near anxiety attacks, and once they stood at the foot of the bed he began to take steps back from it.
Marissa noticed his fear and asked if he was alright, trying to piece together the puzzle in her mind. When she finally gave up on deciphering his discomfort he spoke in almost a childlike voice saying,
"She died here." Marissa's stomach dropped and she slowly looked back to the bed before them. She remembered the gorey details that Osuald confided in her, the blood soaked mattress, the limp and lifeless body of a beautiful girl, it was a horror scene that she had never witnessed.
"Tell me the bed is not the same," was all she could respond with and Osuald quickly shook his head.
"Only the frame, everything else is different."
"Well, then let's take it slow," suggested Marissa as she took his hand again and began to guide him to one side of the bed.
"Anywhere but here we would have been stripped of all clothing by now. I want you, Marissa... it just doesn't seem right here."
"I believe you, Oz," she said as he sat down on the bed, helping him shed his winter tunic. "I want you too. We will have many moments like those, we just need time." Soon Osuald was left in his undergarment and Marissa stood before him, bunching up and stripping off her own winter coat.
His trauma felt like it blurred and was barely in his mind, the sensual dance that Marissa conducted as she lost each layer of clothing was far more gripping than the hurt he once faced here. Was it a sign of healing? Or was he just an extremely aroused man? No need to decipher it all in that moment as when she began to slowly pull and untie her corset he grew animalistic once more and snatched her in his arms and pulled her onto the bed with him.
The snogging began once again and Marissa attempted to fight to grow more naked but Osuald freed her busy hands to instead touch his body. His hands found his way under her many layers of her skirt and indulged in the warmth that her supple skin radiated underneath. Warmth, a stark contrast to how another girl felt in this same spot a year and a half ago.
Osuald fondled his love in many places and learned of certain erogenous zones for future sessions as Marissa stifled her groans of pleasure. They did not partake in any traditional love making that night, it was more of an exploration of each other's bodies, and all done outside of the confines of the bed covers. Once they both felt satisfied they collapsed onto the pillows behind them and snuggled closely.
CW over.
It still felt like there was much to be discussed, both what their relationship meant to one another and how deep their traumas they endured went, but they agreed they would take it one step at a time. Osuald quite liked seeing Marissa in his home, she felt comfy and like a perfect addition to the family, but such decisions were too juvenile to make just yet. He just lay there, his flame-haired love tight in his arms, and he thought to himself, I did it. I have reclaimed this bed as my own.
Marissa felt it be good for her to sleep in the single bed in the same room as her son, keep him feeling safe and comfortable in such an unfamiliar home, and Osuald agreed. He would stay sleeping in this room as he needed quick access to Bercthun who was sleeping soundly in the next room over. Marissa kissed her love goodnight and found her way to her bed for the night.
The mother and son duo remained their stay at the Chapman abode for three full nights. The first day they witnessed a snow storm that prevented them from finding their way back up the mountain and the other two days was purely because they were enjoying each other's company. They shared many hilarious games of dominoes downstairs and Byrhtnoth told some fun folk tales by the fire to the young boy and the old man took a liking to Kristoffer.
When the day finally came for the Hays to say goodbye to the Chapmans Osuald made sure to at least guide them to the trail that began at the bottom of the mountain. Conditions improved and the dirt path proved to be safe enough to walk for an hour or so for the mother and child and Osuald watched them begin their journey through the thick evergreen trees before him.
That night it suddenly rained and most of the snow began to turn into a muddy sleet. He stood close to the window and looked out beyond the river and to the mountains as he rocked and comforted Bercthun into a sleepy state. His son held on tightly onto his shirt and Osuald pondered as he stared off into the distance.
How safe were Marissa and Kristoffer? Was their home warm and dry as he stood with his son? When was he going to see them next? There was nobody to supply him with answers to his questions but one fact that was right before him was that Bercthun had fallen asleep. He felt his son's grip onto his shirt loosen slowly and soon his hand lazily flopped onto his shoulder and off he carried his darling boy to his bed.
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