Life On the Fjords

A Man

Jack tore up the plank from his bedroom floor and pulled out the sack of money. Only forty-three hundred speciedalers, but he would have to make it work; they were all that could save them now. He made sure that every last skilling was there before he grabbed an empty trunk, threw whatever clothes he could find into it along with the money, and then dragged it into the twins' bedroom.

"Listen, put everything you can fit in there. Clothes, blankets, everything we need."

Jamie and Mary's heads were still spinning, not even able to process what was happening. Mary innocently asked, "And our pillows?"

"Whatever we need! Just hurry!" Jack's voice was frantic and he cut her off.

"Where are we going?" Jamie asked in an equal panic.

"I don't know!" Jack answered, unable to think of any sort of lie that would comfort them. He ran upstairs to the beast's lair, pulled apart the drawers, ransacked the entire room to try and find something left of his mother's he could sell. Maybe even some of his father's belongings—at this point, he didn't care. He took a few of his coats; they'd be needing them.

Jack stormed back down the stairs, tossing the coats into the twins' room before grabbing the lantern and running outside.

"Where are you going?" Mary demanded, her head so full of questions, her heart thwacking a mile a minute while Jamie feverishly packed, stuffing everything tightly into the trunk.

Savage with fear, Jack ran out to the chicken coop and grabbed a few eggs. In his delirium, all he could think was that he'd have to feed the kids something while they were homeless. He didn't stop to ponder how he'd even be able to cook them. He wrapped the eggs neatly into a blanket and put it into a satchel, along with matches he would need for his lantern.

He wasn't even outside for five minutes when he returned inside and saw that the house had come to a standstill.

The beast. His hand was still bleeding, only wrapped in the torn fabric of his shirt. He stood between Jackson and the children, who were cowering in the bedroom.

Jack felt like a fool; he should've known he would watch to see if he'd try to take the kids. All he could think was thank God he hadn't tried to signal Elsa. All Edvard had needed to see was the trunk full of things.

"So there it is." He grumbled. "You'll try to take these children from me just like your mother did." Jack didn't budge, for it was too late to back down now. "Give me one good reason why you'd even think that they'd be better off with you."

Jack, letting all the hate and rage he'd wanted to show his father out, said, "Because you're not fit to even look at them." All of that pain, that venom, it was seeping through the words he let loose from his tongue. The beast was so taken aback that not even he had an instant retort. Jack held his ground and took a step closer—for once, he was in charge. "You're barking mad. I know what you did to my mother." Jack's eyes were violent with fury and Jamie and Mary nervously looked at each other when he mentioned their mother. "You're a monster that's never known how to feel. You piece of shit!"

The beast raised his hand to slap him and Jack didn't even flinch. A slap was nothing now; he was made of steel. But the beast knew now what his true weakness was. How to get him to obey. It had worked on his mother for years, he would do so again. He turned around and reached for the twins. The twins screamed and fought to keep his large, grisly hands away.

Jack, wild with protective love, tried to break them apart, but the beast bucked his head right into Jack's jaw; he bit down on his lip so hard he could taste blood. Suddenly, he remembered. Jack fled out of the room.