Page 38 of A Light So Blinding
He’d lost so much of what he once was. As he waded into the icy water to the deepest part, he stood there with it up to his hips and took quick, short breaths before dunking himself completely under. Running his hands along the hollow parts of his ribs, down his empty stomach to the jagged edges of his hip bones, he wondered what it would have been like if he’d avoided being captured.
Would he still have muscles here? Would he weigh at least a stone more?
Running his hands through his greasy hair, he took time to get some of the tangles out, at least. What a mess. His mother would be so disappointed with him, let alone all the other women who had raised him. They had impressed upon him how important it was to be clean, and here he was, ignoring everything they had ever told him.
Flashes of memories returned to him bit by bit, as he washed away the years of torture and torment. Memories of home with his mother and her sisters, and how they had brought so much love into his life. Years of him in their grotto, with the emerald green hills that had rolled as far as the eye could see, and animals all roaming freely.
Another memory sparked there too. A reason the animals had been able to roam like that without any fences or barriers. But that one was still gone, just as much as the others were. He still had a long way to go before he was himself again, but he was pleased that at least now he could try. He was closer to who he had once been all those years ago.
Finally clean, he started planning as he got out of the water and rinsed off the loincloth the best he could. There wasn’t much he could do with it. It was threadbare at best, but there should be some clothing still in Embla’s cottage. He wasn’t sure if it would fit him—likely not—but at the very least he could make do.
Heading back home with a sopping wet loincloth and a dead rabbit, he paused to grab some wild carrots on the way. There were a few places he used to gather them, and they were now overrun with options. Wild carrots were abundant here, perhaps a good reason why the rabbits were plentiful as well. And then he headed back to the house.
She was still sleeping. But then again, the rays of the sun were only just peeking over the horizon. So he made quick work of sneaking back into the house to paw through the small chest at the foot of the bed.
That took some skill. Astrid stirred when he first opened it, and he froze at the shrieking sound of the hinges. But she settled again, so he rummaged through the small wooden box until he found some old pants that used to be his. They were tied on the sides, so he would be able to make them cling to his thighs well enough.
Grabbing those, he closed the box as slowly as he could to avoid the shrieking hinges again, and then headed outside.
Here, he could cook the rabbit for her. Along with the carrots. He highly doubted the king’s soldiers were still looking for them, and even if they were, he would hear them long before they made it to the cottage. So he got a fire going outside, threw the rabbit onto a spit above it, and waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
The sun was higher on the horizon than he’d anticipated before he gave up. Was the woman dead? Surely she should be up by now, and yet, she wasn’t. He poked his head into the darkened house, seeing that she was still underneath the covers.
Neither of them had slept well in the cell. He knew that. But Bjorn had never met someone who could sleep so long into the morning.
“Astrid?” he called out, trying to keep his voice at least a little quiet so he didn’t startle her.
She snorted in her sleep, rolled over, and then turned to look at him. “What?” Her voice came, quiet and still half asleep.
“We need to get going.”
“Oh.” Again, that higher pitched, soft voice that he’d never heard.
Sleep still clung to her as she sat up. Her hair was a little tangled, a billowing cloud around her head that looked more like a bird’s nest than actual hair. Her eyes were slightly swollen, and her lips were cracked. She looked anything but a priestess in this moment.
He’d never seen her look prettier. How strange it was to find someone in their most base form so sweet.
She rolled out of bed, barely functioning even though it was well into the morning. She blinked a few times before joining him outside. “Is that... food I smell?”
The poor dear was barely managing on her own. Maybe it was the binding that made something in his chest squeeze, or maybe it was just that she was pathetic looking as she staggered over to the fire and sat down next to it.
Her dress was all rumpled and wrinkled from a night’s sleep in it. One shoulder had fallen down, leaving her skin bare to the early morning sunlight as she breathed in the scent of cooking rabbit. “What is it?”
All the soft thoughts in his head ground to a screeching halt. “What is what?”
“That.” She pointed at the animal rotating on the spit. “I can’t tell without its...”
Skin, he filled in for her. She couldn’t tell what a skinned rabbit looked like. This might be a harder journey than he’d originally thought.
“Rabbit,” he replied, hurrying to the fire before she did something stupid. Like grab it with her bare hands.
He made quick work of taking it off the spit, and setting it on the plates he’d found inside as well. That with the steamed carrot would fill her belly far better than anything he’d found so far. Although now that he was looking at the food, he realized he wasn’t likely to eat anything himself.
He should have hunted more rabbits, he supposed. But he’d gone longer without food than this. She needed to eat more than he did.
