Figurehead

sixteen

"Janf." Med. His voice is.. Strange. Urgent, in a way.

I blink blearily at the sudden light flooding the room, rolling onto my other side as I rub my eyes. "Mm?" I mumble. My eyes flicker open and stay open.

"Hey." He sounds exhausted, like he put all his energy into saying that one word.

Med takes his hand off the door, glancing between the two of us. "I'm going to- yeah, I'm going to go," he says in a rush, and he slips outside, past the man standing in the doorway.

I sit up, still groggy. "First light, is it?" I exhale.

A hint of amusement on his face, he nods once. "A little after first light, yeah."

I run a hand down my face and nod once. "Alright, alright, I'm getting up." I shrug my jacket on, covering a yawn with the back of a hand. "Have you even eaten?" I mumble.

He shrugs. "I can eat later."

I loosely fold my sheet and then throw my pelt over my shoulders with another yawn. "Did you want to come in or go somewhere?" I ask. "Did you have anything planned?"

He opens his mouth, closes it, then says, "Not really."

I raise my eyebrows. "You don't have anything else you need to do today?" I don't know what kind of duties he has as king. But I know he must have a lot.

He shrugs. "Not anything I'm aware of."

I rise to my feet, putting up a hand. "Just come inside, close the door and wait." I can hear him obeying as I pad sleepily into the washroom.

I splash my face with cold water once, twice, then wipe it dry with a cloth as I release a heavy and silent sigh. There's no going back, I know that. Whatever it is we had is never going to be the same again.

I slip my feet into my boots and leave the washroom, leaning against the open doorway as I try to sort out my tangle of hair. He sits at the table, chin in his hand, elbow leaning on the wooden surface. He doesn't say anything, so I keep untangling with my fingers until it's good enough to pull back and tie with a few pieces of string. "What did you want to do?" I ask, sighing as my hands drop to my sides.

He blinks. "I don't know." He stands, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to see you. Talk to you, I guess." He takes a deep breath. "I don't know."

I stare at him, not knowing how I'm meant to respond. "Alright," I say finally.

"Let's just go to the Ansk," he suggests tiredly.

"Alright," I repeat. I push some of my stuff aside on the table and take out a wrapped pile of crisp flatbread. "Let's go."

Like yesterday, we walk side-by-side in silence while the province shifts around us, before us, behind us and pays little attention. With the hood of his cloak drawn over his head, it could almost be funny how unnoticed he is amongst his own people.

It takes a while to make our way through the busy streets, but eventually we follow a winding trail through dwellings and light forest to where the lagoon lies. I can see the river on the other side, where it runs past the border, through to Aranakiu. All of it is frozen, lagoon included. It is far, far smaller than the Eska. Eight of the Ansk would make up the Eska, if not more.

I hand Dein half of the crisp flatbreads as we sit on the banks of the ice, side-by-side but not touching.

I eat and wait for him to speak first, gaze wandering over the lagoon and its surroundings. Like in Huistef with the Eska, people here know better than to allow children to slide across the frozen Ansk anytime other than mid-winter. And frozen or not, it is always utterly clear, reflecting the sky and the light forest outlining the water and its banks.