“Aye, it’s not the kind of fabric I’m used to working with at home. Usually I use wool or flax, but this material was so fine and delicate, stitching was a tedious job. And I didn’t have your measurements, so I had to guess.”
Without warning he pulled off the wet tunic he was wearing and threw it aside. Ailsa gained another glimpse of his bare chest and the cords of muscle outlining his torso, how it tapered from broad shoulders to a trim waist. Shadows danced between the ripples fingering his abdominal wall, pushing her gaze lower until she skimmed the low hanging trousers skirting the V shape of his hips. It was a pity she didn’t mend him a pair of pants as well.
He pulled on the homespun shirt and looked it over, seeming neither amused nor repulsed by her work. “Ailsa, this is…”
“Awful, I know. Odin’s eye, why did I think your arms were so long?” She finished for him as she assessed her own work on his body. Though the colors were perfect with his complexion, the shiny black fabric and gilded stitching matched the color scheme of his hair and his eyes.
“What’s this?” His fingers ran over a detailed spot on the lower left edge.
“The sun,” she mumbled. Tiny suns were littered throughout the bordered edges, the only feature she had been quite proud of. “Because you areSólskin.”
His eyes flickered to hers, disregarding the stitching and the unequal cuts, even the sleeves that pooled around his wrists. No, the look in his eyes was one of sincere gratitude. A tenderness that stripped away the bane in his stare. “No one has ever made me anything before. Thank you, Ailsa. I love it, truly.”
“Only because you have no mirror to see yourself right now.” Her mouth suppressed a grin despite how ridiculous he looked.
“And if I did, I would love it even more. In fact, I do believe this is my new favorite shirt.” He pulled on the leather vest he wore over his tunic; the covering flattered the poorly made shirt.
Ailsa turned to gather her things, feeling more embarrassed the longer she looked at him. “You do not have to mock me, Vali. I know it’s terrible.”
He snatched her hand in his and stole back her attention, stroking her wrist with the rough pad of his thumb. The tiny motion enough to send her thoughts into disarray. “You misunderstand me. I sincerelyloveit. And I shall wear it every day unless it starts to smell, and then I will wash it and wear it again.”
“You will look ridiculous wearing the same thing every day,” she said, smiling.
“I’ve been known to be quite unreasonable.” His lips curled into a one-sided smirk. “How are you, Ailsa? I’m so sorry it took me this long to get back. The giants didn’t bother you too much?”
Ailsa slipped out of his hand, despite the pull of her flesh to remain close. Each breath she took pulled her closer until she was practically suffocating from his proximity. “I’m fine, Vali. In fact, I slept great the past few nights without an elfin snoring in my ear.”
Vali scoffed. “I donotsnore.”
“You do, like a bear. But I find it to be one of your more endearing qualities.” She carefully assessed him in the low lighting, looking for signs of a difficult journey, but his skin was flawless if not a little wet. “How was your trip to Asgard?”
The tension returned in his shoulders, filling high to his sharp ears as he took a large breath. “Crawling to Odin for help is probably on top of my list of most hated experiences. I hope I never have to go back,” he spat. He turned to sit in the only chair in the corner of the room. His leg spread wide as he rested his head against the sweating walls. “I…. met your father by the way.”
Ailsa pressed a palm against the wall for strength, steeling her expression. “You saw him? In Valhalla?”
“Yes.” His voice was dry of emotion.
Her chest shuddered off a burden she didn’t know she carried. She knew her father was destined for paradise. He built his life around the Ostman Law, based his every decision off a personal code of honor. But hearing he was at peace with the honorably slain, filling his eternal days with battle and feasts, it was a comfort she needed to make peace with a darkness inside her heart. A darkness that once felt like anger but now appeared more like guilt. “What about my sisters?”
“I did not see them if they were there. I would have searched Folkvang, but I ran out of time. I had to leave before Thor realized his hammer was missing.”
She dipped her chin in a nod. “I understand. Did you seek my father out on purpose? I find it hard to believe you stumbled upon him by accident.”
Vali stared at the floor. “I went looking for him. I had questions.” The easiness in his voice was gone, the muscle in his jaw locked rigid.
“And?” she probed him to continue with the tenuous arch of her brow.
He fidgeted in his seat, stalling, trying to find the most delicate words like she were made of glass, and he might break her if he said the wrong thing. But Ailsa had known cruelty enough to have thick skin and a pliant heart. He looked at her finally and spoke, “Would you want me to tell you the truth, even if it would only serve to hurt? Even if your father made me swear not to tell you?”
“Of course,” she said. “Do you believe I cannot handle harsh matters? After all we’ve been through, do you think me fragile?” And why would he care to protect her heart? After all, he owed her nothing. He was not responsible to guard her from the pain of truth.
The ghost of a grin flickered on his lips. He shook his head once. “No. You’re like the flowers that grow in the deep folds of the mountains. Lovely and fine to look at, yet able to survive the harshest winters without wilting. Utterly resilient.”
Ailsa leaned against the wall and hoped the shadows hid her smile. It was the first time he called her lovely. “And here I believed you thought me an orchid—impossible to maintain and difficult to keep alive. But you are stalling. Tell me what my father said.”
He explained her family’s ancestry, the first shieldmage and the Blessing of the Berserker—a euphemism for what was really a curse. She was silent for a long time after he spoke of how he promised her to Nikros and paid off Erik to disappear. She knew her father had unparalleled wealth and power among the clans, but she didn’t realize just how easy it was for him to control her life. Her future.
“I amsickso they could havemagic,” she muttered.