Having been relieved of his duties at the oar bench Dorian found a space in the prow of the drakkar among the others trying to find rest between shifts. He lay flat on his back, hands behind his head and closed his eyes trying to sleep. A moment later he was struck in the chest with something hard. He opened his eyes to find a wedge of cheese on his chest and Malinda standing over him.
"Make room." She told him as she nestled herself into the crook of his arm laying her head on his chest. She broke off a piece from the cheese and plopped it into Dorian's mouth for him.
"How is my father's farm?" She asked, doing her best to sound casual.
"My farm." He corrected drawing an annoyed look from her. "It's well cared for. When I last saw it seemed as though this harvest would be one of the largest in some years, but I will admit to not knowing much about those things."
"The girl and her boys? They are well?" She asked, unable to keep the tightness he felt in her from slipping into her question.
"Rællé is good," Malinda seemed to only refer to her as 'the girl.' So Dorian made it a point to say her name. "She was wary at first, having never lived outside the city." Malinda huffed, biting back some derogatory remark. "The walls make some wolves feel safe.
"Bugger those walls. She has more reason t fear being in them than out." Malinda said.
"I told her as much and that's why she left. Her eldest is fourteen now, tall, strong, two shades darker than her with eyes green as emeralds. Someone was going to ask questions or make assumptions neither would be good for either of them. He was not happy to leave. He wants to be a soldier and gods be good he would make a fine one."
"What happens when he shows up to Hardhaveb one day with a spear in his hand asking to die for his alpha? You can't keep boys like that from trying to be heroes."
She was right. Another year or two and the farmer's life would seem poor in comparison to what his dreams held.
"If he wants to soldier he can come to Frosthold or Seawatch or some other holding, there are still a fair few in the north that could use capable spears."
"True enough but what if they ask questions?"
"Hopefully if they witness me with the boy they will presume him to be mine but if he were to end up at Frosthold, Astrid would not ask." He explained.
"Because you would tell her." It was not a question. Dorian did not respond.
"Her youngest boy," he started, doing the kindness of not making her have to ask. "He thought it was the start of some great saga tale. He told his…mother that she needn't fear, that his brother and him would protect her no matter what. You should have seen his excitement to find out it was his grandfather's farm they were moving to. You would've been very proud."
Malinda sobbed out a laugh and they sat for a quiet moment.
"Does Yasmine know where they have gone?"she asked.
"I haven't the first clue what she does or does not know. She's never asked after them, not once in nearly twenty years but still…moving them was the smart course, though she concerns herself far too much with her own pup to care for anyone else's." He answered.
"Should she not worry for him? His father is a captive, the pup is presumed to be the next alpha if he lives long enough to see the day and there were those that did not fear to rebel even when Durin was on the throne and full strength. What happens now?"
"I do not hold her fears against her—." Dorian started to say.
"You have no need to lie to Durinson, you're no good at it anyway." Malind teased.
Dorian sighed. "As you say, my nephew will one day be alpha of Clan Kanaka, one of the last living great clans of all of Islimore let alone The North and she would keep him in Hardhaven, in the castle and keep. He should have been to Frosthold already, tasted the spray of the sea, hell at his age Stig and I took our own longship to see if we could catch a sea-dragon. He should have been taken on a ranging into the Black Forest. He has had his change and should by now have tasted blood and battle. She teaches him that fear is something to be heeded when it is something to be overcome."
"Should a good leader not know when to listen to their fear?" She asked
"A decision made out of fear is the same as a decision made at sword point. It is no decision at all. Fear is a liar, it hides the truth. When you make a choice and you feel that fear you have to dig and find where the fear comes from. To not make a hard choice for fear alone is cowardice."
"Speaking of Yasmine's fears. Does she worry that Declan means to challenge her?" Malinda asked.
"Of course she does but I told her half a hundred times that's the last thing she needs to concern herself with.
"Why? Declan challenged to be alpha once, didn't he?"
"Yes, but that is because he is an idiot not because he wants to be in charge."
"What makes you so sure?"
"You remember all those times Declan would bring me down to your village with him and we would all play bardagaleikur? Where was he? Always in the shield wall, getting punched and bit and kicked. He was the alpha's son, by rites he had the best claim to hold the ball and direct the wall but he always, always chose to be in the front getting beat on and bleeding. Declan is happy to bleed but he wants no part of leading."
She smiled "he always stuck you in the back, Said you had the mind for it."
"No one claimed my brother was always an idiot."
"Still…Declan would have his supporters." She said, apparently unable to let it go.
"Perhaps but he would not take our brother's seat even if it were offered to him. There is nothing that could convince me otherwise, not even the black dragon of Fafnir's fall and her famed silver tongue."
"Oh, I could." She said "depending on what I was doing with my tongue."
Dorian laughed.
"Besides I only meant that with Declan back Yasmine must be worried a whole new crop of rebellion will begin again, is she not?" Malinda asked.
"Why do you think I leave for Frosthold at the oar of your drakkar and not on a ship of my own?" He retorted.
"You enjoy my company and my silver tongue."
He laughed again.
"I did miss you." He told her.
"And I you Gallow-Slayer." He bristled when she used the name the singers were so fond of calling him and she noticed. "That is not who you wish to be is it?" She asked him.
"There are very few of us that end up being who we wished to be." Dorian told her. "You would know that as well as anybody."
"I do," She admitted. "But I've found that if the world will not let you be who you wish, it is easy enough to change your wish."
Dorian smiled at the practicality of her words.
"Dorian…you know I only tease you with that title because of how unwilling you are to wear it?" She asked. He only nodded in response. "The singers, your men, all the pretty maids of the north…they think you are a hero for slaying the wildling king, lord of the gallow-wood." Her voice had grown softer and more serious, there was no more teasing going on. "But to me you were a hero before steel was ever bared. As I stood on that platform, naked as my birthing day, scarred, bruised, beaten, blood pouring down my thighs from the gallow-king's attempts at making an heir, a rope around my neck. I watched you and the two you brought with you come riding up. My own uncle with you, he would not look at me, could not bear to see me and the other, the young one, he could hardly look away. When you saw me, you smiled. I will never forget that smile, Dorian. I see it always. You saw me there on that platform. You saw me; not him, not what he had done to me. Nothing has meant more to me before or since and I should have thanked you a long time ago." She kissed him gently on the cheek and soon silence gave way to sleep.
"Make room." She told him as she nestled herself into the crook of his arm laying her head on his chest. She broke off a piece from the cheese and plopped it into Dorian's mouth for him.
"How is my father's farm?" She asked, doing her best to sound casual.
"My farm." He corrected drawing an annoyed look from her. "It's well cared for. When I last saw it seemed as though this harvest would be one of the largest in some years, but I will admit to not knowing much about those things."
"The girl and her boys? They are well?" She asked, unable to keep the tightness he felt in her from slipping into her question.
"Rællé is good," Malinda seemed to only refer to her as 'the girl.' So Dorian made it a point to say her name. "She was wary at first, having never lived outside the city." Malinda huffed, biting back some derogatory remark. "The walls make some wolves feel safe.
"Bugger those walls. She has more reason t fear being in them than out." Malinda said.
"I told her as much and that's why she left. Her eldest is fourteen now, tall, strong, two shades darker than her with eyes green as emeralds. Someone was going to ask questions or make assumptions neither would be good for either of them. He was not happy to leave. He wants to be a soldier and gods be good he would make a fine one."
"What happens when he shows up to Hardhaveb one day with a spear in his hand asking to die for his alpha? You can't keep boys like that from trying to be heroes."
She was right. Another year or two and the farmer's life would seem poor in comparison to what his dreams held.
"If he wants to soldier he can come to Frosthold or Seawatch or some other holding, there are still a fair few in the north that could use capable spears."
"True enough but what if they ask questions?"
"Hopefully if they witness me with the boy they will presume him to be mine but if he were to end up at Frosthold, Astrid would not ask." He explained.
"Because you would tell her." It was not a question. Dorian did not respond.
"Her youngest boy," he started, doing the kindness of not making her have to ask. "He thought it was the start of some great saga tale. He told his…mother that she needn't fear, that his brother and him would protect her no matter what. You should have seen his excitement to find out it was his grandfather's farm they were moving to. You would've been very proud."
Malinda sobbed out a laugh and they sat for a quiet moment.
"Does Yasmine know where they have gone?"she asked.
"I haven't the first clue what she does or does not know. She's never asked after them, not once in nearly twenty years but still…moving them was the smart course, though she concerns herself far too much with her own pup to care for anyone else's." He answered.
"Should she not worry for him? His father is a captive, the pup is presumed to be the next alpha if he lives long enough to see the day and there were those that did not fear to rebel even when Durin was on the throne and full strength. What happens now?"
"I do not hold her fears against her—." Dorian started to say.
"You have no need to lie to Durinson, you're no good at it anyway." Malind teased.
Dorian sighed. "As you say, my nephew will one day be alpha of Clan Kanaka, one of the last living great clans of all of Islimore let alone The North and she would keep him in Hardhaven, in the castle and keep. He should have been to Frosthold already, tasted the spray of the sea, hell at his age Stig and I took our own longship to see if we could catch a sea-dragon. He should have been taken on a ranging into the Black Forest. He has had his change and should by now have tasted blood and battle. She teaches him that fear is something to be heeded when it is something to be overcome."
"Should a good leader not know when to listen to their fear?" She asked
"A decision made out of fear is the same as a decision made at sword point. It is no decision at all. Fear is a liar, it hides the truth. When you make a choice and you feel that fear you have to dig and find where the fear comes from. To not make a hard choice for fear alone is cowardice."
"Speaking of Yasmine's fears. Does she worry that Declan means to challenge her?" Malinda asked.
"Of course she does but I told her half a hundred times that's the last thing she needs to concern herself with.
"Why? Declan challenged to be alpha once, didn't he?"
"Yes, but that is because he is an idiot not because he wants to be in charge."
"What makes you so sure?"
"You remember all those times Declan would bring me down to your village with him and we would all play bardagaleikur? Where was he? Always in the shield wall, getting punched and bit and kicked. He was the alpha's son, by rites he had the best claim to hold the ball and direct the wall but he always, always chose to be in the front getting beat on and bleeding. Declan is happy to bleed but he wants no part of leading."
She smiled "he always stuck you in the back, Said you had the mind for it."
"No one claimed my brother was always an idiot."
"Still…Declan would have his supporters." She said, apparently unable to let it go.
"Perhaps but he would not take our brother's seat even if it were offered to him. There is nothing that could convince me otherwise, not even the black dragon of Fafnir's fall and her famed silver tongue."
"Oh, I could." She said "depending on what I was doing with my tongue."
Dorian laughed.
"Besides I only meant that with Declan back Yasmine must be worried a whole new crop of rebellion will begin again, is she not?" Malinda asked.
"Why do you think I leave for Frosthold at the oar of your drakkar and not on a ship of my own?" He retorted.
"You enjoy my company and my silver tongue."
He laughed again.
"I did miss you." He told her.
"And I you Gallow-Slayer." He bristled when she used the name the singers were so fond of calling him and she noticed. "That is not who you wish to be is it?" She asked him.
"There are very few of us that end up being who we wished to be." Dorian told her. "You would know that as well as anybody."
"I do," She admitted. "But I've found that if the world will not let you be who you wish, it is easy enough to change your wish."
Dorian smiled at the practicality of her words.
"Dorian…you know I only tease you with that title because of how unwilling you are to wear it?" She asked. He only nodded in response. "The singers, your men, all the pretty maids of the north…they think you are a hero for slaying the wildling king, lord of the gallow-wood." Her voice had grown softer and more serious, there was no more teasing going on. "But to me you were a hero before steel was ever bared. As I stood on that platform, naked as my birthing day, scarred, bruised, beaten, blood pouring down my thighs from the gallow-king's attempts at making an heir, a rope around my neck. I watched you and the two you brought with you come riding up. My own uncle with you, he would not look at me, could not bear to see me and the other, the young one, he could hardly look away. When you saw me, you smiled. I will never forget that smile, Dorian. I see it always. You saw me there on that platform. You saw me; not him, not what he had done to me. Nothing has meant more to me before or since and I should have thanked you a long time ago." She kissed him gently on the cheek and soon silence gave way to sleep.
