It gets easier

Chapter 10 / To love someone

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"Thorfinn, your wife." Tomar, one of Thorfinn's coworkers, began watching Thorfinn's hammer on a glowing pot, spacing his words between the slams of the hammer so the young man could hear him. "She's a bit strange, isn't she?"

Thorfinn stopped mid-swing, the heavy hammer above his head, feeling a bead of sweat run down his face, leaving a cold trail.

Before he could turn around, one of the other blacksmiths began as well.

"She's certainly very comfortable. She goes around wearing men's clothes, and her hair is cut short too."

It had been a couple of months since their wedding, and Gudrid had begun to be seen more around the village, becoming more of a familiar face for all that lived there, but her clothes and her hair did make her hard to miss.

The image of her sad face when she spoke of how she hadn't been allowed to take off her wig or wear the clothes she wanted was etched into Thorfinn's mind. He never wanted her to have to make that expression again. In that way, Thorfinn could see that he had begun to care about Gudrid and had become a bit protective of her.

"Are you sure they didn't trick you into marrying a man?" The one who brought it up laughed. Thorfinn put down his hammer against the table but did not look up to meet their eyes.

"Thorfinn?"

"You- you know we're just kidding around, don't you? I mean-"

"I don't find it particularly funny to hear my wife get insulted." Thorfinn sighed. "You don't know her well enough to do that, so please refrain."

The blacksmiths behind him shared a worried glance between themselves. They had learned that it was incredibly difficult to annoy Thorfinn. He was usually the king of guys to smile awkwardly and let mean or playful comments pass; the only subject they knew to refrain from was wherever he had been for eleven years, and his father, of course, but now they knew to put his wife on the short list of things that ticked him off.

"Right, sorry, I was just saying..."

Thorfinn picked up the hammer again and continued his work. "Of course you're right, in a way," Thorfinn relented, "but I wouldn't call her strange, at least not in a bad way. She's just being herself, and why would that be a bad thing?" He asked, not expecting an answer from them.

She certainly was just being herself, and he liked that version of her. She expressed herself with her hair and the clothes she wore, but after she learned of Thorfinn's travels—not what he had done but just where he had been—she had begun to express herself with her words as well.

He had stayed up many nights with her, feeling like a child during a sleepover, answering all of her questions, which seemed to be never-ending, but that was alright; he found that he enjoyed talking with her when she was excited.

He had even been surprised that he was able to smile with her when he recounted the better parts of his past.

Whether it had been good or bad, he had tried to lock it all away. He had tried to forget everything, because he was ashamed and because the memories brought him nothing but pain. He had completely forgotten that there were moments that were worth remembering.

"So, can I ask you, Thorfinn?"

"What?" Thorfinn sighed, thinking that they would begin again. But the question he was asked was not what he had expected.

"Do you love your wife?"

Thorfinn stilled again, his eyes widening, and suddenly he felt like he couldn't breathe, but it was not because of the hot air. It was something else, something he wasn't sure he could describe properly.

These were adult men surrounding him, not his little niece, whom he felt he had had to lie to about his feelings regarding the marriage. These men were both married and would often complain, so Thorfinn knew that if he told them that he didn't love his wife, they would not judge him. Love was not something that existed in all marriages, and in some it never would, but that didn't make them terrible; it was just the way it was for many people.

But still, saying "no" would feel... wrong. He was not sure he did love Gudrid—not in the way that they meant it, but he did feel something towards her. Maybe he just loved her as a friend, but that was good as well; it was the most he could have hoped for.

"Thorfinn?"

"Because it sounds like you do. What, with the way you talk?"

Thorfinn swallowed a lump in his throat and decided not to answer the question, but whatever he said would be something he was not sure of. So he looked around for a means of escaping the conversation.

"The fire is about to go out," he mentioned, and the conversation seemed to be quickly forgotten as the men hurried to their more wood on the fire to keep the metal hot and pliable, but Thorfinn continued to be thoroughly distracted for the rest of the day.


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"Benteinn and Tomar asked me a strange question today," Thorfinn told his mother. It was quiet, and he had her for himself. She was his confidant, the one he told everything to.

"And what's that?"

"They asked if I loved Gudrid."

"Why is that such a strange question?"

"Well," Thorfinn went to scratch the tip of his nose, a habit he had when he was nervous or embarrassed. Helga wasn't sure that he knew it was something he did. "I suppose it isn't really, but it's the first time anyone's asked."

"And what did you answer?

"I just changed the subject. I didn't know what to say."

Helga chuckled at Thorfinn's response, and he wasn't sure why. "Why do you think that is?"

His mother came and sat beside him. His mother knew he found this sort of thing very difficult, but the questions she asked were needed.

He laughed and put the back of his head against the wall. "I care about her. I care about how she feels, and I want her to be happy here, but love isn't like that, is it? Love isn't that simple."

"You sound like you don't want to love her," Helga said, and she continued to word her sentence carefully. "Before you met, when this was all new to you, you made it sound like loving each other was something you wanted for the two of you."

"It is. Of course it is."

"Then maybe, if you're not ready to call it love yet, wait." Helga placed a hand on top of his, which rested on his knee. "If you're already confused, after just a few months, I believe these feelings will grow, and you will be certain."