Truly, Ohtli wasn’t sure she wanted to be carried at the moment, but she knew her presence was comforting to him. While he cradled her in his right arm, she took a strand of his long, golden hair and braided it loosely so she didn’t tug on his head. She glanced up at the swirling device that had torn her husband’s flesh. The blood was drying now, and she wanted to clean it off, she didn’t like how it was staining his skin.
But she didn’t say anything. She finished braiding that strand of hair, keeping her eyes on her work.
“You’re very quiet.” He finally said, gently shifting her in his arms, reaching over and touching her face, then stroking her wild black hair.
She looked pointedly at his chest. “We need to clean that.”
“When we stop for the night, I promise.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.
The gesture made her feel a little better, and she grabbed his calloused hand in both of her tiny ones, squeezing it gently. Hers. Hallmar gave her a smile, something about it was bittersweet, she clambered up onto his shoulders, then kissed the top of his head before resting her body up against him.
“Are you tired?” She raised her eyebrows and looked down at him, gently tapping his chest with her foot.
“Jotuns don’t get tired.” He replied, she could hear the smile in his tone, so she moved and slipped back into his arms.
“You liar.” She looked up at him, then poked his jaw. “If you’re tired, we rest.”
He smiled down at her, then raised her up a little, giving her a tender kiss on the lips. The little shifter blushed, then scowled up at him. “Fine.”
Hallmar laughed outright, jostling her slightly in his arms before pressing his forehead up against hers, stopping for a moment, then tossing her up on his shoulder, he began to steadily jog. She squeaked as she was tossed, then looped an arm around his antlers.
Around mid-winter his antlers would drop off, and he’d always wear a hat around until the spring time when they started growing back. Ohtli always thought that was funny.
Soon, she yawned, then stretched before leaning her head on his own, closing her eyes. As she started drifting off she felt him move her down and cradle her in his arms like a little child. She smiled as she fell asleep, pressing herself to his chest, ignoring the metal instrument buried in his flesh.
Hallmar held her close to his chest and for a moment, buried his face in her wild mass of black hair.
His.
Her scent calmed him, and he stopped walking, closing his eyes. So close, it was easier to ignore the flaming pain in his chest, but it never completely left him. The constant presence of that smug vampiric was there too.
Arrogant bastard.
He squeezed his hedgehog gently, then sighed, pushing back his icy, stone-cold fury, then walking a few more minutes before finding a suitable resting spot. A small, scrubby thicket, a circling of dry bushes, would do for the night.
He sat down on the dry, dusty ground, then carefully laid on his side; gently, so very, very gently, laying his little shifter girl beside him. The earth was hard, and he wished he had something to pad the ground with so she’d be more comfortable.
She didn’t seem to mind it, just shifted around a little before starting to snore softly. He laughed, then rolled onto his back, letting her lay on top of him. He put his arms behind his head, then looked up at the night sky. They’d make it into Hekavate within a fortnight, destroy that library, go back, and get this infernal device removed.
Ohtli mumbled and clutched a little at his chest in her sleep. He reached forward and touched her little hands.
He fell asleep that way, her tiny hands under his one, large palm, and his other arm acting as a pillow for his head. Even in sleep he didn’t get any relief from the loogaroo, and his dreams were filled with nightmarish visions of his girl, his feisty, little, beautiful girl, being hurt. While he slumbered he clutched Ohtli as close as he could as if to protect her from his visions, and from Notchimine. . .
