Churning
Spiraling smoke rises upwards from the chimney stack of his father's house.
Ice and snow cling to the outside edges of the window. A soft glow lights the interior. The Sun's light is anything but warm. The bitter air cuts through the silk skirt as if I am only wearing tissue paper for protection against the elements of Nature.
Even with the Savage plowing through the snow to make the path easier I have to rest several times along the way. The cold seeps into everything, even the coat he made me. The wind is getting into everything. The snow, clinging to my long skirt, dragging me down. Falling over and over again.
I'm in misery.
"Bessa, just a few more steps and we will be warm and eat." He's speaking into my ear, through the hood of the coat.
I've never been so cold.
"I can't move anymore." The gloves have filled up with snow on the inside getting wetter and wetter everytime I fall. Icy slush clings to fingertips.
I've stopped feeling my fingers a few minutes ago.
"Try shifting again." A hint of desperation in his voice.
"I can't shift. She's too weak to break through the skin." I could close my eyes right now and be okay with that.
"Shift!" A command yelled out - the snow falls off the branches of the burdened down pines. There is a rise, a shift of color as the Nature of my Wild within regards him before retreating into the warmth of my marrow.
"You have to keep moving, fifty more steps Bessa, can you take fifty more with me?"He grabs my hand and takes a step forward, I take one but stop entirely after that to rest.
There is a struggle to breathe; movements have become too hard, the act to pick just one foot up is monumental. So I stay where I am - frozen mid-stride.
Picking me up in his arms he plows through the waist deep snow. He's looking forward one foot in front of the other, slow, agonize - the effort is written all over his face.
His body shakes.
Teeth clenched, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier. We both fall when his legs give out, snow surrounds us, encases us in a white tomb.
Greens so bright they make me think of spring. He blinks them closed for a moment taking in hard breaths.
"Is this how it ends for us?" Touching his cheek with my fingers because my glove fell off. He kisses the tips before putting the glove back on.
"No, Bessa. This is not our end." He struggles to his feet, only to fall again when he tries to pick me up the first time.
"Am I too heavy for you?" My face is in the snow, but it's not cold anymore. I've stopped shivering and if feels good to finally be, calm.
"You will never weigh enough for me." The second time he tries to pick me up we pitch forward, but he keeps us upright, somehow. I can feel his legs shake his entire body.
He grunts through a clenched jaw as he carries the burden of my weight.
The walk is at a snail pace, one agonizing step at a time until we are at the door of his father's house.
A wall of warmth hits me as we enter. I can't stand on my own two feet.
I'm missing a glove, again.
"Put her by the fire." The Alpha's voice is too loud. The coat comes off, my boots, the other glove, I've dropped the same one again. It's laying somewhere in the snow.
"I lost my glove." Looking at the blanched fingers with blackening tips.
"I'll get it after you get warm." He puts the tips in his warm stream of breath, and it stings the sensitive skin that seems to start tingling back to life.
"This has to come off, Bessa." The Savage is pulling up the hem of Silk that's frozen solid. Furs have been placed by the stove, a pile of them.
"I don't want you to take off my dress. I can do it myself." Clumbsy hands try to grip the material.
"I won't look at you, I promise." His eyes focus on mine; he's in absolute control of himself. Luki comes with a thick blanket that's stretched out; he hides his eyes behind it.
"Alright," a defeated voice falls to the floor.
As soon as my dress is off, the blanket covers me completely in one smooth motion.
Greens never leave mine. They hold without a glance down at the bareness of my flesh.
The material is warm, soft, and smells of wood smoke.
The Savage takes off his boots, his coat, picking up my dress, coat, and boots. He places it on the other side of the wood stove to dry. His feet don't leave wet footprints on the wooden floor, but his pants are frozen to his body. They crack as ice fall off when he bends down.
I start to shiver after a few minutes underneath the blanket; more furs are piled on top of me. My fingers start to burn as the feeling starts to come back to them. He's rubbing my hands with his, putting them against his chest, then rubbing them until the black starts to fade and the blanch of white becomes the color of my flesh again.
"Do you feel warmer now?" His hands hold mine.
"I feel much warmer."
"Good." He lets my hands go to take a small cup from his father's hands.
"Open your mouth," when I do he spoons a rich, thicken broth that tastes like chicken into my mouth. No solid food, just the liquid. He feeds me spoonful after spoonful until it is gone. I'm now warm, and my stomach feels stretched out, almost to the verge of discomfort.
The Savage goes to get another cup, but his father puts a hand on his chest.
"You can eat your meal after we deliver the meat to the rest of the pack." The Savage can hardly stand as he puts his boots back on, his coat, gloves.
There is no protest from a mouth that hasn't tasted food in days.
His pants are soaking wet, and his lips still hold a tinge of blue cold. There is the softest grunt as his father puts the first pack on the Savage's shoulders, then another.
What is more of a burden, the weight of me or the weight of the pack?
Luki pulls up fur pants, putting on thick fur boots. He ties big wooden things to his feet, which look hard to walk in. The coat is last, and when he pulls his hood over his head, nothing can be seen but fur trim.
"He needs to rest," telling his father in the firmest voice I can find.
"He needs to be an Alpha. His pack is hungry; it's been a longer than usual Night. He needs to bring them food before he can have food." The Alpha is stern in his talk to me, but I think it's more for his son to hear.
The Alpha puts a pack on Luik's shoulders as well, but it's not as big as what the Savage has to carry. The Alpha is last as he gets dressed for the elements, he also ties big looking wooden things on his feet. He comes over with another small cup filled with thick yellow broth.
"Bessa, take a nap, we will be back as soon as Borson hands out all the food to the members of the pack. When you get hungry again, eat this slow, one spoonful at a time or else you will get sick."
'Don't leave." Talking to them all.
"You'll be safe here. When we get back, we will have something that will fill your stomach properly. For now, rest, stay warm and dream well." The Alpha pulls the blanket up to my chin. Loads the woodstove and when Borson walks out the door, he leads the three of them in the deep snow.
He's cutting their trail through the sea of white.
The winds picked again; the white snow seems to be blowing sideways. Just before the door closes, he looks at me with those green filled eyes as his hood goes over his face. I can't close my eyes knowing there is a warm cup of broth by my nose. So I eat as slow as I can, as slow as my stomach permits me too. When the cramps start its a matter of resolve to keep it down, in a stretched out gut.
When the door opens so do my eyes.
All three cram into the entrance space of the front door. Borson leans his head on his father's shoulder who gives the back of his head a pat. The empty pack is taken off his shoulders for him; he stumbles to stay upright. His gloves come off, his boots, coat, then he takes off his wet shirt and pants.
Covering my eyes, this is daylight not the soft glow of a single candle burning low.
"Are you well?" Those are his first words out, his voice seems tired, worn, exhausted.
"Are you alright?" My question back.
"I am now." A weak sigh.
"There's probably pants in your old room, put some on. Your mother would kill me if she knew you were to sit at the table bare-assed." The Savage opens the door to a room where two beds are pushed against opposite walls.
"Bessa needs some clothes too if she is to sit at the table," Luki calls to his brother. He's feeling my silk dress a little longer than what it takes to feel if it's still wet. He catches me watching him.
"I couldn't get the Elder to give up the Loom. I tried to trade, but he wouldn't part with it. I can make one." He's rubbing the Silk over the pad of his thumb and index finger.
"Bessa can you walk?' The Savage is pulling up pants that are tight on his thighs, he leaves them unzipped, unbuttoned and I can see the start of his hairline.
I don't look lower.
"Yes, I can walk." Feeling stronger. Getting off the furs, making sure the blanket is tight against my body, I enter his room.
The door closes.
"Sit on the bed," when I do, he lifts my calf with one hand, the side of his nail traces the arch of my foot with his other hand.
"Has she been in this room?" I tense.
"No," he's putting a thick sock on my foot, something that I have never had on my feet but I've seen them before. He places the leg gently down before picking up my other leg by the calf
His breath hits my skin; his eyes flush me.
He feels down where muscles merge with tendons, around my ankle to the top of my foot before slipping on the other sock.
A warm rush settles itself into the space between my leg.
He places the foot down. A shirt comes out a drawer before he puts it back to take out another one.
"Has she been in this house? Has she sat at your parent's table?" My fingers curl into the bedding.
"No." I relax, so does he.
The pulse of my neck is touched, the pad of his thumb brushes the space at the base of my throat.
A pause of breath.
The side of his thumb touches my shoulder, pushing the blanket further off my skin.
I shiver, he tremors.
"Are you still cold?" His voice seems low.
"No," I'm at a loss for breath.
Methodically slow, the tips of his fingers trail the ridge of my collarbone from one end to the other. The blanket dips lower, off both shoulders now.
His eyes aren't shy to look.
The side of his thumb runs just underneath the ridge of my collarbone now.
Touch is taking over my skin.
The blanket dips lower.
A surge of heat.
Words fail to come out of my mouth because his mouth gets closer.
Temptation.
A nudge of his cheek to mine.
"Let me dress you." The low sound of him presses against my bare shoulder.
"Did she wear your clothes?"
Silence.
His cheek slides from mine.
The beat of his heart pulls away.
"Yes, she did."
The bones of my ribs pull inward in protection.
My spine tries to shift away from him as he looks into my eyes.
"Why? Why would you let her wear your clothes?"
"She liked to sleep in my shirts at night."
"What else did she like to sleep in?" There is no control of my voice.
"Nothing else, just my shirt." He continues to hold my eyes with his snake greens.
"Get me my dress." Taking off the socks he put on me.
"It's still wet."
"I'd rather wear something that's wet and cold then the shit you have for me." I tense myself up, and so does he. When he stands from his kneeling position, I pull the blanket over my shoulders.
His heartbeat pulls away further.
He slides on a shirt that clings to his chest; the collar touches his neck. It hangs down his back and stops before the undone button of his pants.
The door opens.
He's back with my Silk; it's warm from the fire and Luki was wrong the dress is dry.
There is a slow shuffle out; he looks as if he's weighted down. The door closes back up, and my privacy is given. Looking around the room, its basic, no color, no pictures, no paintings, on the side I am sitting on. The other side holds different carvings of animals, pictures of roughly sketched scenes of Nature. There are hints of color in the bedspread.
When I come out of the room all three look at me, the Silk hangs on my body now; nothing is revealed because I have no curves for the dress to cling to anymore.
The Savage pushes the chair for me to sit down beside him, across from Luki who is eyeing the bowl of red berries up.
"Bessa, you have to eat very slow or else you will throw up." The Alpha starts putting large amounts of food on his plate. The Savage follows, but his portions are small, just bite size.
There are noodles that hold a red sauce that I take a few strands from. When I put one in my mouth, I try to mimic the way the Savage is chewing.
Slow.
My stomach is refusing to listen to common sense when the food hits the bottom of it. I take the rest and swallow it down without tasting. When I try to take more, the Savage grips my hand.
I snap my teeth, with a stirring awake growl.
The curve of his lips turns up gently.
"Wait a few minutes. Let it settle first." He lets go, and I rub my hand on my Silk trying to take the scent of him off my skin.
"Are you ready to lead us to the summer grounds this year, Borson?" The Alpha says between bites.
A pause.
"No, I'm not ready for that." My mate's spine tries to stay straight.
"You were ready before you left to go across the sea. You even boasted to your mother how plentiful it will be for the pack with the spot you picked out. What changed?"
The Savage closes his eyes tight, his lips press hard. "I don't think I'm ready to lead yet."
"Why is that?" His father's voice is concerned, his eyes are soft.
"Look at me, look at my mate. I'm not ready to lead this pack."
"It's good to hunger my son. It teaches the important things in life. You made it through the long night. You kept your mate alive with nothing going into winter. I think you're more than ready to lead the pack to the summer grounds."
"I'm not you, father,"
"You're right you aren't me. I listened to my father, I listened to what he taught me and I never veered from his teaching. It has brought prosperity to the pack. There is a reason why I say the things I say, there is a reason why it's important to listen to the teachings of the Moon. If we follow the Moon's path then we walk the right path. To veer from her words bring death and destruction to the world." The Savage turns his ear completely to his father, listening to his sermon.
"I will never veer from the Moon's teachings or yours, father."
When the Savage is done he sits and waits for a few minutes; his head bowed down before he picks it up.
"You were right, father."
"About what?" The Alpha places his fork down, hands clasp on the table, mimicking his son's.
They look at each other.
"About Bessa, my mate."
Luki stops eating.
"I should have never done what I did."
"What did you do?" He's calm; the Savage is not. Luki's mouth is open.
"Loved someone who wasn't my mate." They hold each other's eyes.
"You realize that now." The Alpha's tone is even.
"I do." My mate's eyes fall on me.
"It's too late; you understand that." His father says as he looks at my face, "her eyes hold her misery."
I don't want to cry, but I do.
"Bessa from across the sea, I hope one day your tears will run out and that you will find your love for my son. You have proven to be a Female who holds Endurance, Strenght, Virtue, Respect, Honor and she has Provided you Borson with the strength to keep going even in the face of great hardships."
The Savage's jaw trembles, the grip of his hands tighten.
Author's Note.
A snippet of the upcoming book Elska.
"Get your nose off of Charlie's dress." Odin's voice barrels into my neck from where he stands.
The fabric drops from my hand.
Footsteps approach, one, two, he will get here in five.
"Why are your cheeks so red, Elska?" Odin demands an answer.
"I was making sure her fabrics are clean." Turning from him fast.
"Why are you shaking, sister?"
A movement of air, he inhales, another inhale.
"This smells of Charlie," another inhale of air, "and her cousins," he says as I take a few steps away. One, two, five I will be at the door.
"What do you smell, Elska?" Odin's steps are longer and he closes the distance between us.
"It smells stinky to me, you need to wash all her clothes before you bring them inside this your house. It's not a good smell those clothes carry." The handle of the door grips tightly in my hand.
"If you don't wash the clothes before bringing them into your house I refuse to help you with anything more." Teeth peak past lips, I can feel the sharpness of them.
"Elska," Odin's sounds stretches forward even when I start to run out the door. He's right behind me, kicking at my feet, trying to trip me up.
"Stop it, brother!" I know this path better than him, turning fast so the trees slide between us, his leg can't catch mine easily without him tripping on his own two feet. Three steps stepping to the left.
"Mother," calling out to her, I can smell her on the wind, she's close. Listening for her heartbeat.
"Elska," she's to the right of me.
"Tell Odin to stop,"
"What do you smell, Elska," his hand grips my shoulder just as I leave the security of the trees.
"If you ask me again I will drive a knife into your throat so you can never talk again, brother."