And, as each day goes on, we do what I always imagined I would be doing right after my father passed on. We help the people, honor the dead, and rebuild what was lost, all to avoid any more thoughts of regicide and because those people deserve to have a good life. My halls are filled with them coming to me with disputes that I settle justly, unlike my father. We have feasts and balls where the less fortunate are invited too, unlike my father would have done. And, in time, Em has a bump in her belly that grows until we have a child of our own that I know I will always be there for, unlike how my father was only there from time to time. And, after the dream has played out so much that I wouldn't be surprised if I wore a smile back in the world of those that do not sleep, I hear her voice, waking me up gently.
"Hey, can you hear me?"
Half-awake from so few words already, I am able to make a sound.
"Huh?"
And, when she asks her next question, I am awake enough to laugh.
"How much did you drink?"
As sleepy as I am, laughing and smiling all at the same time, I probably do look drunk, without mentioning the smell of it on my clothes, but I answer her with the truth.
"Only a little sip. I promise."
And, before I doze off again, she gets to the reason why she has woken me up, and makes a demand.
"Well, I don't want you sleeping out here alone. Come to bed with me."
An invitation such as that is so inviting that I am quick to stand up and sway in the process, and doing so makes me look drunker, when I am only filled with the happiness I have come across. So, after I have wiped actual sand out of my eyes, Em offers her hand and wisps me back off to the tent so fluidly that, because I do not tumble down the dune, I might think that this is just a dream too, but, once we are in the tent, free of our sheaths, and deep under her single cover on the bed that is no longer wet with my sweat, but probably still smells of it, I find myself so awake that I ask her something that is far too real.
"Did you speak with your father that night?"
That question has been tearing my mind apart since we first headed towards this desert, after we were sure Gorm was laid to rest, but there has never been a good time to ask it when I wanted to let enough time pass for her to overcome some grief. And, when that had happened, we were deep in the woes of dying from thirst and not knowing whom between us would keel over first. So, If I am to die tomorrow, when that thought is inescapable, the words have to just slip out, lest I never get the chance to ask, and, with how quickly Em turns around in the bed so that we are facing one another rather than me facing the back of her neck, she is not afraid of what I ask.
"He waits for me patiently, knowing I will join him one day."
What she says could be taken as a way to avoid what I ask, when she could believe that without talking to him, but, knowing what we have discussed before, I feel certain that she did not miss the chance, not when it is once in a lifetime and the last time they will speak until she too leaves her body and joins the afterlife. That is why I continue with my questions, when the topic should still be off limits, honestly.
"And what about him being a spirit? Did he not ask how you could see him? Or was there not enough time?"
She looks deeply into my eyes, before she says anything, and, as she answers, I know the look in them was enough to show how serious I am.
"Both. It is complicated, but I think there is something more to the way you and I have seen the dead like that."
I then spend so much time thinking about it that, sooner than I say anything, she pushes her hair out of her face, parts mine, and explains.
"Think about it. Do you remember what I said when you first asked me? That maybe we are close to death?"
I have been thinking about the conversation we first had about it so many weeks ago this entire time, so it does not take me long to reply.
"Yes..."
My answer runs wet with curiosity, as that is entirely why I ask when I deeply want to know why we saw what we saw, and, rather than get upset at all with what we are talking about, Em places her hand on my check, laughs, and tells me something that, maybe, she has been thinking too much about.
"You're going to laugh at me, but what if it is because we are already so dead inside?"
What she says is enough to laugh at or dismiss entirely, but, rather than do either, I keep a straight face and beg for more without giving that away.
"I don't know what you mean."
Em then talks so fast that I know she has run this thought through her head hundreds of times.
"You know about my past. You have lost everything that was once a part of yours. We both have lost Abraham and my father."
What she shares are ideas still, and not any sort of full explanation yet, so, not afraid to ask for more, I do so.
"And?"
The only other sound to draw me away from what seems like the most important information in the world is that of drunken men finally making their way to bed, and, as amusing as that is, I would never miss any of her words.
"Maybe all that pain and loss has brought us closer to death."
At first, I am not sure what to say or think, so my face likely shows confusion. But, slowly, thoughts do come. I feel the urge to dismiss what she says as ramblings for a few seconds, for her words are something any of us could have thought of. Seeing people die, burning them, that makes one closer to death in the sense that we are right next to it, but, because that is so obvious, I consider how there has to be more to her thoughts.
That takes more time, and I sigh just to let her know that I am still thinking. I think about how we have experienced so much loss. We both never knew our mothers after they died bringing us into this world. I lost my father alone, and I was there when we all lost hers. We lost Abraham too, and many other men, so I could argue that our entire lives have been shaped by the dead and dying. We are who we are after growing up with one parent. We are where we are after Gorm's journey and his desire to give one final goodbye to his mother made us lose him, Abraham, and put us in charge. After tomorrow, new loss may change that all, so, instead of saying if I do or don't agree with what she says when I have yet to decide, I kiss her and ask that she does something for me, if I too join the dead.
"If I die, just promise me you won't bury me with too many flowers."
Saying that changes the topic entirely, even though each thought leads to the next, and, while I hoped that would make her laugh a little, there are only so many chuckles before so many other questions come and make tears impossible to fend off.
"Why?"
What I said was more of a light-hearted remark rather than anything serious, but, when I do speak again, what I say hurts.
"I did not feel much when I saw my father be buried at sea, but to be buried that way did not feel right to me. Some of my ancestors were buried in the dirt, just like I would want to be, and, over the past few months, I've found good reason to hate water even more."
While I should have drowned twice in the past, each instance brought me closer to Em, and is why I am still here with her now, and, though what I said did not address the joke about the flowers, Em moves on for the time being and shares another thought that opens up my mind.
"Maybe that is why you have lived every time you should have drowned. He has become one with the sea, and keeps you from joining him yet when he knows you have a grand future ahead."
I almost want to laugh when she says I have a grand future ahead, because even I am not so directly optimistic about what comes next, so I simply smile and give her the best response I can.
"Maybe."
She strokes my cheek for a few moments, while her eyes barely seem able to stay open, but, before she dozes off, one of us addresses those flowers again.
"I can't promise you I will not bury you with too many flowers, either. I will not even think about it. Instead, I want you to come and find me after the next battle, and we will both see what comes next."
St
ill so optimistic, I kiss her one more time, and, after she has rolled back over, I share a few more words, when she might be so tired that, come tomorrow, the thoughts will be gone.
"If I do come back alive, I will follow what is mine by birthright, and I would like us all to return home with me to the kingdom that needs my love too."
It is not like any of us to have plans that are thought so far ahead, but, as she dozes off, she manages a question with a whisper.
"Needs your love too?"
I let out another laugh before I fall asleep too, and, just to reassure her, I promise that there is nothing to worry about when it comes to the feelings of my heart.
"Yes, but I'll have plenty to give you still."
Those were the last words either of us shared, and nothing else graced my mind until morning came. And, if it were not for the heat, neither of us would have woken up so quick. Because we fell asleep in one another's arms with our clothes on and a blanket over us both, the fire in the sky, now that a new day has begun, breaks us both out in sweat, and, once the sensation of it is enough to disturb us so much that we wake one another briefly, I am quick to clear the cover off of both of our bodies and get up. While I put my sheath back on, tie my boots tighter and bear the smell of my toes, and check my water canteen for the flower that I will take to my grave, if I must, I consider making sure she gets up too, so she can say goodbye to me, but, instead, I just push the hair out of her face and kiss her on her cheek because today's battle may be over before she even wakes up again.
As concerned as I am that death may come today, after avoiding it for so long, the desire to let her sleep through any fear for my life is stronger than any wish to say a last goodbye, so, when I get off of the bed, I do so quietly and leave the tent without another peep. And, once the morning sun blazes down upon my face, I am greeted by many fuzzy faces at my legs. For, like they worry about what comes too, Yemi's wolves look up to me like I am family, an uncle maybe. Uncle Aedan off to slay some giants again, so, rather than just run off on them, I take the time to scratch them all and let them lick my hands, or my face if they are daring enough to stand tall on their back legs. They are so large now that they are almost as big as any man, if not bigger, so it is good that I catch the one leaning against me to give my face a kiss before I am knocked over, and, while I get attacked by all the fluff, I'm amazed to hear who else is awake.
"I bet you have never seen animals so loving, have you?"
Yemi wobbles over to me in such a way that the shoulder that still has an arm hangs lower than the shoulder without, and my first thought is that he fell asleep on the arm he has, with more alcohol than blood in his body, and was greeted by the pups before a headache could wake him on its own. So, laughing, I tell him why I am not surprised they are so well behaved.
"We always told you how you would make a great father, did we not?"
He puts that one hand on his hip, where he still has his last sword, and what he says only reassures what I have shared with him.
"That you did. Now I understand what I was missing, and why Gorm cherished Em so much. There is nothing quite like raising another living being, even if my children are far hairier than I."
As I move between the wolves and towards Yemi, so that we do not talk so loud that the rest of the camp wakes up, the wolves either sit nearby or go off to play with one another while I begin one of the last conversations I might have with this man.
"We must talk about that."
Yemi is not so sure what I mean at first.
"About what?"
So, rather than skirt around it, I come right out with it.
"About Em, and if I do not come back."
He laughs at first, but there is worry in his eyes too while he calls me his favorite insult.
"Do not tell me you would let yourself die, you fool."
I look at the sand as he stares me down, because I do not want his worry to change my mind, and I explain why.
"It may happen even if I do not want it to. I do not plan on taking the men."
He scoffs, now bearing an angry look, as I look up at him once again, that is so strong I half expect him to punch me for even sharing that thought, but the anger becomes sadness, always lingering in our minds, as his words go on.
"No. You act like a fool. Remember what Gorm tried to do. I will not let you go alone. She needs you still, and would kill me too if she knew I let you go alone."
Tears seem ready to wet the dark flesh under his eyes, but I am not planning to give in on this, not yet. The only reason I even try to sway his mind is because, if I am to die, he must take my place and help everyone live the rest of their lives.
"I do not want to take the rest of the men. You will have no one to get us back to Gorm's valley safely, or wherever else the men want to go next if I do not come back."
It is hard to tell if anything does wet his flesh, as he stirs and kicks the sand under his feet, but his words make it clear enough that the alcohol was not enough to numb his pain.
"No. No. No! You make me hate myself. You make me hate that my body is so broken now that I cannot fight or die alongside you."
I can understand why he feels that way, but, even if he still had both his arms, my reasoning would be the same.
"You cannot get hurt either. You will be all she has left if I am gone, Yemi."
One of my last friends then plops down on the sand, alongside one of the tents, and the only signs of happiness around us are the wolves that run by drooling, as he shows no signs of the same feeling.
"No. No, you foolish boy."
Yemi covers his face with his hand, so that I cannot see what his eyes do, and only have his frown to look at, but, after a few moments, he proposes something in an attempt to make us both happy.
"If you will not take any of the other men, then I will ask that my brothers go with you."
After the one we already lost yesterday, I am stubborn at first, even though I would only be risking four lives alongside my own.
"I will not risk their lives. You do not deserve that pain."
Our force would be but a handful, but Yemi still has reason enough to make me question my own.
"You and Gorm could kill that last giant with just you two, so I think you and four men like me could get it done."
I then take some time to consider what he says, and, in that time, his brothers appear out of the tent behind me, back towards the one I shared with Em. As convenient as that is, I question Yemi about their will, when I assume they come now because they have heard some of what we have said.
"Are you sure it is a fight that they want?"
For me to ask him that, he gets off of his ass, smiling, and answers me as the four of his remaining brothers come to stand behind me.
"They will be honored."
I look back at them, as I watch Yemi peer over my shoulder at them, and, in their eyes, I see determination as they nod to acknowledge what has been proposed. So, before we are off, I have something else to do.
"Then I must ask you this, Yemi."
It has been a long time since I have even fiddled with what I pull out from under my jerkin and shirt, when I have not wanted to deal with the pain seeing it brings after all the lives we have lost, but, for a few moments, I stare at it. The necklace my mother gave me, with the symbol that looks like both a flower and a sun, has greater importance now than just something to remember her by. So, while I think about how it has made it through every fight and stayed on my body any time Em has taken the rest of my clothes when she heals my wounds, only after taking it the first time I awoke in her tent, I lift it off of me, look at it one last time, and give it to Yemi with an explanation that is not enough.
"Take this. It belonged to my mother."
Yemi seems happy to take it, as he stares at it curiously, but such curiosity shows in his words too.
"What do you want me to do with it?"
The answer comes to my mind fast, but requires so many words.
"I told Em last night that I want to head home after this. That castle on the coast we stopped at, it was my family's. This necklace will be enough for someone to know who you are. They will know it was mine. If any villager is left, they will know what it means because they all loved my mother. Use the respect it will give you and the other men to tell them what happened to me and rebuild my old home. It will be yours or Em's to rebuild and lead. It is what I would want most if I am to meet my death."
He lets out a sigh but smiles simultaneously, likely because what I ask is a lot but also because the idea is beautiful. And, after all this time, he has finally gotten the truth about who I am, or was, or tried hard to forget.
"I understand, but that means you are a prince, then. Whoever we find, if you are not there to meet them, will be told of Prince Aedan Fjord, gone but not forgotten."
We all take a minute to bathe in those words, especially when they both hurt me and ease the thoughts of what's to come, and, before anything else is said, I look to Yemi's brothers, and examine the weapons they have carried with them this entire time. All of them still carry the glove that we have buried so many with, and, for a moment, I think I have lost mine, when the feeling of it against my skin has become so natural, despite the noticeable weight of it. Not knowing what comes, it is good we can all still fly if need be, but their weapons give me hope too. Two small axes for one man, a bow and arrows on the back of another, one with a normal sword, and the last with a war hammer big enough to crush the toe of any giant with a single blow, they all make me feel safer, despite how the four of them wear just as little armor as the rest of us, and only when Yemi interrupts my thoughts am I forced to think that there might still be a chance that death comes for us all.
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