Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XLV - Heida

"I choose Roth." She fought to control the quiver assailing her underlip and, in a steadier voice, said, "It has always been Roth."

Aila nodded her head, a witting quirk pulling at one corner of her mouth. There was no surprise in her mother's eyes.

Heida transferred her gaze to Roth's bemused countenance, something of shock rucking his brow, and then glanced to the crestfallen man beside him. She was sorry for hurting Eirik; but what could she say that might possibly ease the bitter disappointment from his mien. "Eirik, I ... I only wish ... you deserve so much better than I could...!" By Frigg, she was making a mess of her thoughts.

In sooth, she could not tell Eirik she was sorry because that would be untrue, for there was only one right answer here. At all events, she felt becalmed and inspirited by the fact that she had followed her heart; if she was to be labelled a fickle, mistrustful woman then so be it. 

Instead of apologizing, she escaped the stifling heat of the hall — and the astonished silence therein — and betook herself outside where she drew in deep, cleansing lungfuls of the brisk, winter air.

No more than a brief moment elapsed before the sound of feet pounding noisily through the snow alerted her to another's presence. They were heavy footfalls. A man's gait.

"Heida." It was not Roth's, as she had initially thought, but Eirik's voice that called to her.

"I will not change my mind, Eirik," she said, glancing over her shoulder. "I cannot act in a manner contrary to my heart."

"There is no woman," he replied, coming to stand beside her, "whose heart is steadier than yours. You know your own mind as well as your heart, and I have always suspected that both belonged to Roth. Never to me." There was a brief, atrabilious compression of the mouth which he quickly tempered. "Truly, I am not very surprised, so be easy."

Heida felt the tears of relief gliding across her cheeks and turned into his waiting arms, wrapping hers tightly about his waist. "You are not wroth with me!" Truly, he had rarely, if ever, said a cross word to her in all the years she'd known him, not since she'd been a child and put herself in danger, so she should not have expected anything less than his quiet acceptance. Of course he would not hate her! It was not in him to hate. 

In that respect, he was better than Roth.

"I could never be angry at you, Heida, and especially not at hearing the truth. I confess I am a little heartbroken, but I have been wounded before," he said, raising his wooden hand with a lorn look, "and this too shall pass. In time."

"Perhaps Brenna...?" Heida bit her lip and looked up into his handsome face, his smile woebegone, but still, and ever, kindly withal.

He shook his head. "No," was all he replied. After a pensive silence, he lifted her chin with the crook of his wooden finger. "But if Roth treats you like he treated his first wife ... I will steal you back from him and let that be the end of it." With a chaste kiss atop her brow, he backed away from her.

And if the roles had been reversed, she wondered, and she had chosen Eirik instead of Roth, would the jarl have bowed out as gracefully? She did not think so. Perhaps that was one more thing to both love and regret about Roth — that he was as tenacious as a ... wolf. It thrilled her to know that he loved her enough to fight for her; though, truly, she would rather not have anyone fight over her. To fight for someone was a far more noble cause than to fight over them.

She followed Eirik's progress back to the door and then started, surprised, for it was then she noticed Roth leaning against the wall under the eave. His blue eyes were fixed keenly to Eirik, shifting steadily as he watched his uncle's progress through the snow.