As they headed down the mountain pass, Yvar held on to Unalike a lost child. He knew she would come for Frey after what he had told her, but he never expected that she would listen to his advice. Una thought that Yvar was wise beyond his years, always knowing the right answer. As she went down the mountain pass with him snuggly pressed against her back, she felt her cheeks grow hot. Already since Darren's untimely departure, it felt like Una and Yvar picked up where they left off so many years ago.
It was Yvar who taught Una how to ride, both as a lady and as a warrior. Una can't remember the last time she rode like a lady, the way she is now, sidesaddle against Yvar. Yvar was also the reason why she fell in love with horses. Yvar and Una used to run in the fields together, barefoot in the blistering sun chasing down the horses to the river. That was a time that life was well-lived, with no fear and all love.
When Una met Darren, all her attention went to him and away from Yvar. Una looks back and sees all the women who loved Darren. He was tall, dark, and handsome. What she saw even more alluring in him was his mysterious side. He was a Dane who didn't know how to speak the native tongue of the land. The way he spoke intrigued Una, but she could never get close to him. Cynan would scold Una for trying to become friendly with his men. Cynan thought they would get a bit too familiar back, fearing that they may touch her, so Una was forbidden to approach any man. Not soon after did her father die by the sword. The forbidden smoldering plume of smoke that was Una's lust for Darren became an inferno when Una became Eurion's right hand. She was the brains of battle operations, Darren was the blade, and Eurion was the lead.
Darren knew that Una liked him, that was for sure, but he wanted Una's friend more. Marged was more obtainable, and bedding down the princess would not be the best course of action in Darren's eyes. He saw Marged as weak in body but intense in mind, the opposite of what he was. Marged was beautiful too. Darren knew his place, however. He couldn't be with someone like himself, though. Marged was his other half. She was wild, and he was tame, and she was no princess. He had to have her for himself.
Darren liked the attention from Una, though, especially when he would do something to make her blush. It reinforced his confidence. If he could infatuate the princess, he could with any woman. It was making him even more prideful when he saw the passive-aggressive scorn between Una and Marged. One thought they were better than the other, but Darren saw in actuality that they were the same. Darren was fair game for both of them, but Darren was only allowed to have one of them, and he obviously chose Marged for this reason. He didn't know he would hurt Una. That was never his intention. He just knew his place, and it was not going to be with Una.
While Una was braiding her hair to the side, she was suddenly slung forward, and the horse slipped on the mud.
"Good Gods!" Una yelped.
She grabbed Yvar's arm wrapped around her waist. Yvar pulled the reins high and allowed the horse to gently back away. He stood there for a second and let the beast calm down before walking. Una felt the same way. Her adrenaline coursed through her body in a painful jolt. Her heart raced. They both could have perished just then. It was a straight drop into the gorge, and there were many large stones on the way down.
"Thank you, Yvar." Una breathed breathlessly.
"Are you alright?" Yvar asked.
"Are you?" Una laughed lightly.
Yvar spun around and looked at Roosa and Frey, steadily heading down the path behind him. Yvar began to talk in old Norse to Frey, none of which Una could understand. A few words sounded similar to her own, but she could not coherently connect them.
"What did you say to him?" Una asked, her arms trembling.
"I told him to go easy on the way down. The mud is slick on edge." Yvar said, turning around.
YOU ARE READING
A Whisper to the North
FantasíaDamsels aren't supposed to wield swords, especially ancient swords that will have the blood of thousands spilled across it. ✵✵✵✵✵ Deep in the mountains of Cambria, there lives a legendary queen of unparalleled beauty, benevolence and brutality. She...