Page 59 of Agnarr's Jarlin

AGNARR

I walked into my room carrying a breakfast tray as Pip walked out of the bathroom wearing a frown. I thought she’d be happy I’d stoked the fire and retrieved breakfast before she woke up. She was usually up before me, but I knew she was on edge about moving.

“I brought breakfast,” I said, setting the tray down on the table in front of the fire.

“You should have woken me,” she grumbled. “Now I feel lazy.”

Ah. This was a particular affliction of Pip’s I’d come across. Her anxiety made it hard for her to rest. Even when she did rest, she felt guilty about it. I was learning she constantly needed to be assured she was doing more than her fair share of the work. I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms, all while she still had hers crossed over her chest, trapping her in my embrace. She squirmed, and I just held her to me, pressing my lips to her head and breathing in her scent.

“Pip, I had a couple of last-minute surprises to tie up. You have done more than your fair share of preparation. Honestly, you’ve done the majority of the work. I don’t even know if we will have blankets or pots and pans,” I reassured her while I stroked my fingers up and down her spine.

I felt her go loose and released her slightly, letting her maneuver her arms so they were around my waist, and she was able to look up at me.

“Yes, we have pots and pans. And blankets. And quite a few other things. Bram has been most insistent that our home be furnished with nothing but the best,” she said, looking chagrined.

“Pip, no one in the tribe will judge us for having nice things. No one will think you demanded them. Look at what you’re wearing,” I said as I brushed a kiss to her nose.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Absolutely nothing, but it is not the outfit of a jarlin that demands special treatment.”

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, accepting my argument and leaning in to rest her head on my chest. “Are you ready?”

“More than ready.”

“Well, then. Food. And then off we go.”

I released her, and we both sat at the breakfast table. I watched as she helped herself to a small bowl of her favorite, gautr, and then added liberal amounts of dried fruit and syrup. I’d finally grown accustomed to how little she ate compared to me and stopped trying to stuff her full—well not of food anyway. I watched her take a scoop with a spoon and blow on it with her lovely pink lips. She was perfect.

Feeling my eyes on her, she looked up, “What?”

“Nothing, just admiring my beautiful mate,” I said.

And soon-to-be fiance—if she said yes. And then my wife. Billie had explained these terms to me. She explained that being engaged was a special time for a couple. There were seemingly endless parties that went along with this whole American wedding custom. She’d explained an engagement party, a bridal shower, bachelor party and bachelorette parties. It had left my head swimming. She assured me Pip probably wouldn’t want all that, considering we were already mates, but I was ready to have seven hundred parties to celebrate our union if that’s what Pip wanted.

I’d snuck off this morning to ensure everything about theproposalwas set. I had to put a lot of trust in Billie and Osif because they wouldn’t let me in the house, which was where I planned to propose. Billie told me she’d get flowers and ensure it looked perfect. While our customs seemed to vary quite significantly, it seemed an abundance of fresh flowers or greens at a celebration was something we shared.

Then I visited Magna. When they arrived, I knew the one thing that would convince me of his change of heart—an engagement ring. I knew Skaard would make a lovely ring once Billie thoroughly explained it, but I wanted Magna. He was the best. When I approached him with the idea, he was hesitant. He made it very clear that he was willing but wasn’t sure how Pip would feel about wearing a ring made by him, given the way he’d treated her. I promised him it would signify his acceptance of her, and our new future. I had my directions from Billie—create something that made me think of Pip.

Magna had crafted a delicate gold band that mirrored the texture of wood grain—a nod to how we met, our future tribe, and Pip’s love of trees. It was in a beautifully carved wooden box, thanks to Osif, and hidden in the pocket of my cloak. I absentmindedly wondered how human males kept their proposal secrets from their partners. I found it incredibly difficult, and it had only been a few vikas. Soon. Soon, there would be no more secrets. I shook myself and started to gather myself breakfast to find it was Pip’s turn to stare at me.

“Where’d ya go there, buddy?” she teased

“Huh?” I blinked slowly.

“You just totally disappeared in thought for a good few minutes.”

“Oh,” I choked, blushing green, “just thinking—thinking about our future.”

It wasn’t a lie—technically.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of that too. Are you ready for this?” she asked.

I almost gave it away then and there, thinking she was asking me if I was ready for marriage, only to realize she was asking me if I was prepared to become jarl.

“Yes. I am. We are. We’ve been forged in fire. There is nothing we can’t take on together,” I asserted.

I was surprised to see Pip’s eyes swimming with tears.

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