As A Stranger Or A Friend?: The Swallow And The Drowned Sailor

Axtapor - 18 Sun's Dawn, 1246 A.D.

I slipped out of our tent as quietly as possible to avoid waking her, only to freeze after a few steps and tossed a cautious glance behind me as I was sure I'd just heard her stir. Indeed she had, but she didn't wake; instead, she snuggled further into the pillows I'd left behind to make her think I was still there, then settled amongst them peacefully. I let out a shallow sigh of relief, glad that I hadn't been caught, then grabbed a log from the top of our campfire pile, walking some feet away to take a seat in the sand. It was just before first light, so it was hard to see what I was doing, but I was sure the difficulty would be well worth it in the end.

I studied the log, probing it with my hands, then shoved my claws into a crack I'd found and pulled it apart to split it in half longways. I did that a few more times until two thinner pieces were left behind; then began to whittle them down with my dagger. I lost track of time as I worked, shaving, filing, and smoothing until the form of knitting needles began to take shape in my hands. I tested their balance, not entirely sure how they should be weighted but hoped they would be just right. Now, just one final touch, and they would be ready. With the claw of my small finger, I etched the shape of a star at the base of each needle and smoothed them over with an polish-stained cloth. I admired my handiwork for a moment, then made my way back to our tent where she lay still sleeping, not a single care in the world.

I smiled and went back in to lay down beside her, moving the pillows one by one and shifting her carefully to lay on me instead. She let out a tiny snore as her head fell to one side, and my heart nearly exploded. There was nothing about her I didn't love, and the thought of making her my wife crossed my mind again. I knew the last few days had been uncharacteristically blissful, but there was no reason why they couldn't always be that way, right? Soon enough, we would be in the Ironsong Hold, and what else would there be to do besides live life together?

The Pale Kings would always be a threat to us, and as Fay said to me long ago, I had no great armies or so much gold that I could challenge them. And why would I want to spend my time fighting an enemy I knew I couldn't beat when I could instead spend that time loving the woman of my dreams? I should stay with her, shouldn't I? Just as we'd promised each other we would that night. I stroked her hair. Yes, that would be the plan. I'd have a ring made for her finger and one for my nose upon arriving at The Hold, we would be wed properly, and then, we would live the life we dreamed of.

She stretched in my arms and sighed, smiling upon seeing me. "Good morning."

"Good morn', wee cream puff." I whispered as I kissed her forehead, "I have somethin' for ye."

"For me?" She asked as she rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"Aye." I took the knitting needles from beside me and offered them to her.

She took them in her hands, observed them sleepily for a moment, then smiled after realizing what they were. "Did you make these?"

"Aye, nay know if'n they be right but..." I replied, itching my neck nervously.

"I love them, snoso, thank you." She replied, holding them close to her face.

I did my best not to smile like a fool, but I could feel myself failing miserably at it.

"I'd like to try them...do we have something I could use in place of yarn?" She asked softly.

"Place of? What be yer meanin', ey?" I asked as I carefully sat up, letting her slide off me to plop down amongst the many pillows around us. I rummaged through my pack, producing a humble ball of yarn, then turned back around to demonstrate the object to her.

Her eyes widened as she sat up. "When did you...?"

"Day after we played Briefs when I left ye for those hours. Had to 'turn that basket as ye been frettin' somethin' fierce 'bout it..." I admitted, feeling uncharacteristically bashful.