Spearing the Siren

FOUR

      Ingrid Dokkdottir hesitated before she chimed his door. She had to ring three times before the door slid open, Lillevenn scowling at her, his hair askew, a robe barely on his shoulders. Irrational rage in the form of jealousy replaced the hesitation. She brushed past him, her slender form getting past him before he could bar her way.
      She strode into the bedroom, stopping when she found tousled covers. She went to the bed, ripping the blanket away, looking for the evidence she expected to find.  When she saw nothing but a wrinkled sheet, she deflated, returning to feeling like the worst person in the system.
      "Well, isn't this rich," he said from behind her, using a voice she didn't recognize but knew she deserved. He grabbed her arm and turned her around roughly and she could only look at him helplessly. "You have the audacity to barge in here and think of yourself so highly that the first thing I would do would be to fuck some stranger, because of you?"
      "I'm sorry, Lillevenn—"
      "I don't want to hear it!" he screamed and she swallowed nervously, remembering what he had done to her in her cell. She didn't recognize the black wrath in his eyes, those sweet, sexy moss-green eyes that had only looked at her with kindness and fondness. "You think because I care about you that you can talk to me any way you wish? You think you can manipulate and use me and then come in here and act like my lover?"
      "Lillevenn, please—"
      "Get out," he said in a rock hard voice and she thought she preferred him screaming at her.
      "I made a mistake, Lil, I got caught up in trying to prove myself—"
      "I believe I made myself clear," he said in a cold voice, her eyes filling with tears. He turned away from her.
      "Am I not allowed to make mistakes?" she asked in a weak voice.
      "A mistake is burning my favorite meal," he said as he walked to his bed, sitting down heavily. "You intentionally led me into danger, caring only about a fucking ship—"
      "I was just trying to prove myself to them..."
      He gave her a hard look. "I am aware," he said quietly, and she wondered if he would hurt her again. "When I didn't do what you wanted, you used my feelings for you to force me to use my power so you could murder those elves. And do not give me that shit about sides. There is a right and wrong way to win, I don't give a fuck what race you are. If you would have killed them, those elves would have turned on both of us, and I'm not sure I could have gotten us out of it alive.
      "There were too many of them, not to mention a high fucking elf who could have easily had our hearts in his hands if he hadn't been so generous. You would have killed those elves for nothing, soldiers who are just following orders, elves with families. That may not mean much to you, since you're a high and mighty Dokkalfr now, not bound by conscience or justice.
      "And after all that, you had the audacity to be flippant with me, you arrogant child, as though I were some Midgardian boy you pulled into your bed. Have you forgotten who I am, what I am?" She looked at the floor by this time. "Have you?" he snapped and she flinched.
      "I think I did, for a minute."
      "More than a minute. Now get out before I make you."
      By the look in his eyes he would do far more than that. It was the first time his antlers took on another connotation. She turned and stiffly walked from his bedroom, though she wanted to dig her heels in. Something about that look in his eyes told her that would be unwise. The partition slid shut as soon as she stepped out and Ingrid hung her head.

      As soon as the partition closed, Lillevenn squeezed his eyes shut, the memory of her tears like a knife in his heart. He turned and lay down on the bed, the bed where they'd made love, on her side. He lay quietly as his heart broke into pieces, his breathing labored as he tried to tuck the feelings away. His chest ached so much he could hardly breathe, praying to Hilde to take the pain away. He realized what a ridiculous exercise it was even as he prayed, knowing she couldn't hear him. He ached for a different reason then, and lay there suffering for how long, he didn't know, before he rose to go shower.
      He dressed in a light robe before pushing the partition aside, prepared to get slobbering drunk before passing out. He stopped walking at the slender form of Ingrid on his couch, his decanter of alcohol beside it. He strode over to her, taking her mercilessly by the hair and she awoke with a fright.
      "How many times must I say it?" he snapped, not having the heart in the end to drag her from the couch, releasing her. She sat up, giving him a resigned look. "When I say I want you gone, I mean it!"
      "I couldn't, Lil," she whispered, giving him a pathetic look. For the first time, he understood his grandmother drowning people who angered her. "Will you hate me forever?"
      "You betrayed me—"
      "I love you, Lillevenn—"
      He acted on instinct, reaching out to take her by the throat, raising her from the couch. She choked as tears streamed down her face. She sobbed once before she returned to choking and he dropped her. She slid off the couch and fell onto her rump as he turned away from her.
      "Once again, I wish I had Hel's backbone," he whispered. He turned back to her, her face the picture of misery, wet with tears, a hand on her throat. "Why couldn't you just leave as I asked?"
      "I don't think I have it in me," she said in a scratchy voice.
      "Because you're arrogant and stubborn—"
      "Yes," she whispered, the admission softening his anger as much as he wanted to hold onto it. She pulled herself to her feet, walking up to him while he gave her harsh features. She reached out to kiss him when his hand grabbed her arm.
      "You are out of your mind."
      "Maybe if we make love—"
      "No treats for you!" he snapped and she grunted a laugh. He narrowed his eyes at her and she quickly sobered.
      "Don't make me throw up  again." He turned away from her so she wouldn't see his amusement. "It was literally the worst thing to ever happen to me, including being tortured, but I suppose that makes sense."
      He lifted a fist to his mouth as he tried not to laugh. He dropped it.
      "Why is that?" he asked in his best attempt at a cold voice.
      "Only the best thing to ever happen to you could turn things dark real quick."
      He looked at the carpet beside him, hating how easily she could get past his anger. She touched his back, the feel of her hands immediately softening him.
      "I didn't say you could touch me," he said curtly. She wrapped her arms around him but it was her head on his back that made him look at the ceiling. He tried to pry her hands away from him, but she held on. "Ingrid, let go of me—"
      She made a negative sound he found momentarily cute.
      "There's a war going on and you want to play these games—"
      "I won't go until you forgive me."
      "I'll be dragging you onto the operations deck then—"
      "All right."
      Her determination touched his heart before it made him angry a second later.
      "You are so stubborn!"
      "Mmm hmm," she murmured against his back. He huffed.
      "Ingrid, I mean it. I can't just forgive you—"
      "I was bad, I get it—"
      He turned around, his hands gripping her shoulders.
      "No, don't make this sound sexy, you manipulated me—"
      "I know! That makes me bad, doesn't it?" She bit her bottom lip and he nearly lost his hard demeanor.
      "Don't get cute with me. If you'll do it once you'll do it again."
      She threw her arms with a frustrated sound.
      "Lillevenn! Can't a person grow? You're expecting perfection from me—"
      He pointed a finger in her face.
      "No, I'm expecting you to back up your love with more than words."
      Her eyes softened. "I don't think I've ever been more eloquently told off."
      "Ingrid—"
      "I'm here, aren't I? After you looked at me like you wanted to tear my guts out, I'm here. I won't go and I won't take the easy way out. I won't let you push me out of your life because I'm an idiot. I can't do that, Lillevenn. You're everything to me, all right?
      "I forgot what was really important, I was trying so hard to be a daughter of darkness, I forgot what gives that meaning. You, Lillevenn. There is no joy in any of it without you. I didn't like that person, how I was on the ship. Because she hurt you and that hurt me more than I imagined."
      He stared at her hard and she waited. He turned away from her, putting a hand on his hip.
      "I'm going to need time." He turned around to see she sat on his couch, giving him a pleading look. "Godsdamn it, Ingrid, you won't give an inch—"
      "Don't make me go," she said in a small voice that worked on his heart as much as he wanted to throw her out on her ass. "Tell me what I need to do to prove myself to you—"
      "You need to stop trying to prove yourself to people, Ingrid. That's why you're in this mess."
      "Then what can I do to convince you?"
      He exhaled tiredly. "I know your intention, Ingrid. You don't have to convince me of your determination. But it's not easy for me to forgive. It never has been. I usually just walk away when people disrespect me."
      She looked at him with miserable lavender eyes, a few tears streaming from them. For a moment, he wasn't certain if he could trust them. He walked up to her anyway, a thumb brushing underneath her eye and she looked down.
      "How much time would you need? Can we still see each other?"
        Lillevenn sighed. "I can't put a timetable on it—"
      She wrapped her arms around his waist and dropped her head on his belly, his heart rent at her obvious turmoil even as a part of him mistrusted it. He wanted more than anything to give in to her, to bring her into his arms and kiss away her tears, but he just couldn't.
      "I don't know how to believe you," he said quietly. "You've made me question your feelings from the beginning, if you were just using me..."
      "And if I say yes, will you leave me forever?"
      He knelt before her, taking her shoulders, and she looked at him with sad, adoring eyes.
      "I can't do this without trust—"
      "I would give my life for yours, right now. Can't you overlook the rest?"
      "It didn't seem that way on the ship."
      Her mouth scrunched up as her eyes filled with fresh tears.
      "I was selfish and stupid, Lillevenn. Can you love me anyway?"
      He shook his head. "Don't make it about my love—"
      "Do you? Love me?"
      He glared at her. "Do you think I would have been this dramatic, heartbroken teenager if I didn't, you idiot?"
      She smiled, the tears streaming down her face. He growled in frustration.
      "You've never said it. Can you say it now?"
      "Now? Girl, you are crazy—"
      She touched his face and he wanted to push her hand away, but he was tired. She leaned her forehead against his and he shut his eyes.
      "I'm so sorry, my love," she whispered and this apology penetrated his heart. "I was a selfish bitch and I put you in danger, my most precious thing. I didn't think...I didn't think. I thought we were both invincible, but I was stupid. I'm a stupid, stupid girl who needs approval, but I need you even more."
      He embraced her tightly, lowering his chin to her shoulder. She reached up a hand, touching one of his antlers gently in a caress. They said nothing more, just holding each other, and Lillevenn didn't push her away. He sat on his rump, bringing her into his lap and she clung to him, her head on his shoulder, trembling. His hand touched the back of her head, squeezing his eyes shut.