At least today, her errands were few. Before the events of Dythegg, a little more than a moon previously, it had felt as though the townsfolk were beginning to warm to her, or at least tolerate her. Now, it felt as though they were afraid of her, as if they pitied her somehow. Elthrinn was eaten by curiosity about what had changed, but there was no one she could ask. To ask Gorren would be to cause him pain. She didn't feel confident in asking his friends, and she wasn't convinced that anyone else had noticed. She would have asked Rehan, but the queen had been absent from their lives since that dark night. If Gorren had met with his mother, he hadn't mentioned it. Elthrinn felt that loss almost as painfully as anything else. Gorren had promised her that she would have a family in Dorvek, now she was alone in her fear and confusion.
Elthrinn pulled on her boots, and pulled the lacings tight to keep the snow out. Before she opened the door, she made sure that she had all that she needed, that her thick cloak was wrapped firmly around her, and fastened tightly, and that the hood was in place. The wind, although not gusting, was bitterly cold, and sliced like a blade. The snow still lay in a deep blanket on the ground, whipped into high drifts against cottages and barns. Elthrinn was still only able to walk where the paths had been cleared. Gorren had made sure that a narrow trail towards the village remained unblocked. He'd made sure that she had an escape route. Although it wasn't like she could get far.
After she had locked the cottage door, Elthrinn stood for a moment, and listened. The noises of the town were barely audible, but she could hear the cluck of the chickens, Dern snuffling and grunting, and Bedvl and Enryl bleating. They were all bored at being shut up all day. She had left them ample food and water, but Elthrinn decided that on the morrow it might be prudent to fight her way through the drifts to take them into the forest. If left to their own devices for too long, the goats would likely make a bid for freedom anyway.
Satisfied that none of her charges were currently in the middle of an escape attempt, Elthrinn turned, and picked her steps carefully along the channel that had been carved out of the snow. She kept her head down, and concentrated on placing one foot carefully in front of the other. The snow on either side came to her waist. She did not want to fall, and end up in a drift up to her neck.
By the time she got closer to town, the channel had become wider as a result of the regular use of other people, but Elthrinn still kept her head lowered, allowing her hood to shroud her features. She was confident of her way around now, and she took an efficient route to the traders that she needed to visit. They had milk from the goats, and eggs from the chickens, but they had not benefitted from a full set of seasons in which to establish their little garden, so Elthrinn still needed to buy bread, oats, and vegetables. Until Dern could give them piglets, she needed to buy meat, too. She purchased cuts of beef that could be roasted, and stewed, and prepared in ways that would ensure that their stocks lasted for several days.
Elthrinn was very aware that she was paying for all the goods that she bought with money that Gorren had left for her. She had nothing of her own, no ability to support herself, even her clothes were not her own. As she turned back to retrace her steps to the cottage, she hung her head, hoping that the cowl of her hood hid the hot flush of her face. It had never bothered her before that she was not self-sufficient, but it bothered her now, now that she had reason to think that she might need to be.
She had known it couldn't last...
Before she'd left the well-cleared streets of the town for the narrow path to her home, Elthrinn became aware that someone was following her. Fear trickled up and down her spine, even when she remembered that she still had a dagger at her belt, and one in her right boot. After the experiences that she'd had, the idea of fighting off one of her Dorvern neighbours seemed even more ludicrous.
Elthrinn didn't want to turn around, she wanted to pretend that she was ignorant of what was happening, but she couldn't. It was probably a neighbour, and if she gave in to her paranoia, she would only be rewarded with one of those furtive glances that slid away from her as soon as the watcher noticed she was looking. But several steps after she'd passed the last house between the town and their cottage, the presence was still there. It wasn't a neighbour, or if it was, they were definitely following her.
Elthrinn put the sack of goods that she was carrying down on the path in front of her. As she straightened, she slid the knife from her boot, but kept it hidden under the wide sleeve of her cloak. She had become complacent, and had lost her habit of always being prepared for an attack. Noridan had caught her unawares, and unarmed. That would not be the case in the future. Her fear was not diminished one bit by the cloaked figure that she saw, not even when two pale hands reached out, and pulled the hood away, revealing hair so bright and red that it seemed like fire against the pristine snow.
Seeing that it was Deffry that had trailed her through the town only added an edge of frustration and anger to Elthrinn's unease.
"What do you want?" Elthrinn had meant to sound stronger; she hadn't meant to sound so defeated and tired. She hadn't personally witnessed the fight between Gorren and Dorll, but apparently a significant proportion of the town had. Apparently, the rumours elaborating on the reason for the fight, had also been flying around like insects on a summer's eve.
"I want to talk to you."
"What about?" Elthrinn knew it was redundant question to ask. Deffry would want to needle her about Gorren.
"You."
"Really?" Her tone was still able to hold a healthy amount of scepticism.
Deffry looked furtively from side to side, and took two steps forward, as if afraid of being overheard. "Yes. If you want to leave, I can help you. I can get you money, a way out. He'd never know until you were long gone."
Elthrinn wasn't fooled for a moment into thinking that Deffry was acting out of friendship, or even female solidarity. "I don't need to ask what you'd get out of my running away. You couldn't care less about my well-being."
Deffry's futile attempt at an expression of compassionate concern transformed into a smirk of self-satisfaction. "You're right, I couldn't. You're weak. You can't take care of him, you can't even take care of yourself. You're not enough for him, you're not up to the task. Leave now, and make way for someone stronger."
Deffry's words sank into the centre of the whirlpool of angst within Elthrinn as surely as an arrow hitting a bull's-eye. Elthrinn flinched at the truth of what Deffry was saying. The other woman pulled herself up straighter with the knowledge that her bile had found its target.
"If I choose to leave, it won't be because of you, and it won't be with your help. And I doubt he'll ever seek your company again."
Deffry's smirk faltered, and then regained its edge. "You won't be around to know." The red head didn't even bother to cover her distinctive hair as she turned, and strode off back into the depths of the town.
~o0o~
Fed by Deffry's sly words, the insidious thought that she should allow Gorren to be with someone of his own kind grew in Elthrinn's mind. By the time he returned from the barracks, she was so consumed by the feeling that she was holding him back, that she was hindering him with her inability to accept him in all his forms, that she could barely greet her husband.
She missed him desperately. She missed the ease, the carelessly joyful life that they'd been leading before. She missed feeling secure in his love. But she was struggling now to even allow him to touch her. He was cautious around her, which allowed her to prepare to accept the feel of his hands on her. It was as if she could see the image of his half form, always shimmering over the solid body of the man before her. Any kind of intimacy had been completely out of the question; she was always too nervous.
He was trying to tell her about his day, she thought. It was hard to listen. The thoughts clamouring in her head were too loud, too insistent. Elthrinn squeezed her eyes shut against the internal noise, trying to listen to what Gorren was saying, but she couldn't hear...
The
words were out of her mouth before she'd thought them, before she'd even realised what she might have said, before she'd realised which threads of the chaos in her mind might be the first to come loose.
"You can have another woman, if you want."
Speaking had calmed the evil whisperings in her mind, and had silenced Gorren, too. The quiet in the cottage was complete. Elthrinn swallowed, and opened her eyes. Gorren was staring at her. His shock was rapidly becoming anger.
"No."
"I'd understand, if you wanted to ." Elthrinn forced the words out past the tears that she was trying to keep at bay.
"No. I don't want anyone else. I want you."
"I can't..." Elthrinn shook her head frantically. Images of Gorren at the height of passion crowded into her head, making her body clenched with want, until visions of the grotesque beast that he could be careened into them, shattering the illusions.
He reached for her, but didn't touch her. When he dropped his hand, Elthrinn felt both relieved and bereft, and overall so confused that her body physically hurt.
"I don't need... I just.... I need... you, only you. Please Rinn, come back to me?"
He was begging. She could hear the defeat and pain in his voice as distinctly as she felt it within herself, but she was lost, and she couldn't find her way back. She didn't even know how to find the start of the path. She was stuck in a thorny wilderness. She shook her head, and clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt.
Not knowing how to continue the conversation that she hadn't intended to start, she returned to the preparations for their evening meal. Evidently at as much of a loss as she, Gorren let her.
That night, Gorren changed to his full wolf form as they retired to bed. Elthrinn thought she knew why; he needed to feel her touch, and this was the only touch she could allow. That night, she slept curled up against him, with her head on his massive chest, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and the thick thump of his heartbeats. They both ignored the way that her tears soaked his fur.
~o0o~
The knock at the cottage door surprised Elthrinn. She was in the middle of clearing away the scant remnants of breakfast. She'd slept soundly, curled snugly into Gorren's pelt; but when she'd awoken, he'd been gone from the cottage entirely.
For one horrifically agonising moment, she'd thought he'd accepted the allowance she'd offered him the night before. Only when she had looked out of the window at the angle of the sun, and had realised it was late in the morning, had she thought that he was most likely at the barracks. It hadn't taken great investigative abilities, though, to discern that he'd left the cottage as quickly and silently as possible, without bothering to prepare any food for himself.
She saw that her hand was shaking as she reached to turn the key in the lock. She was disgusted by her own weaknesses. Elthrinn took a deep breath, and opened the door.
"So, this is where you're hiding."
Jorm was leaning on one forearm against the jamb. Elthrinn shrank back, and tried to close the door, but he stepped forward, and stretch out his other arm to keep the barrier from separating them.
"Oh no, you don't get to run from me, too," he said as he pushed his way into the room.
"I'm not running," Elthrinn protested weakly as she backed up.
"Yes, you are. Now, get your cloak."
"You're... you're..." It couldn't be. Jorm was one of Gorren's closest friends, she could've sworn...
"Relax. I'm not running you out of town, but I do need to show you something. Come on. I haven't got all day."
Even more bewildered than usual, Elthrinn simply did as she was bid, and dressed for an excursion into the snow. Jorm didn't say anything else to her, only watched as she readied herself, and as she locked the cottage door behind them. He turned without a word, and Elthrinn followed. It was apparent soon enough that he was taking her to the barracks. Elthrinn knew that Gorren would be there, and she wondered whether Jorm had decided to force some sort of confrontation. She felt sick to her stomach, but she tried to steel herself for the coming ordeal.
She followed Jorm blindly. She hadn't visited the barracks often, and once inside the compound, she was completely lost. There seemed to be a hundred twists and turns, and dozens of corridors, before Jorm stopped in front of a large, solidly secure door. He pulled a key from his pocket.
Jorm unlocked the door, and heaved the thick blockade of wood and iron open. It was heavy enough that it stayed in place as Elthrinn entered first. She was still trying to comprehend the contents of the room as Jorm closed the door behind them.
"What is this place?"
"A museum, of sorts, part of our training complex, really."
There were weapons of all shapes and sizes: knives, swords, spikes, spears, bows... everything that could be formed to cause death and pain was categorised in inert order in the room.
"Did you bring me here to scare me?"
"No... Well, maybe."
Jorm turned, and looked at her.She got the sense that she was being examined. In that moment, she knew he was making a decision about her. He hitched his head towards the other end of the room, "This way, come with me."
She followed, because there was little else that she could do. They passed rack upon rack of weaponry, a multitude of rails and glass cases containing pain and death.
At the end of the room were two exhibits, both more horrifying than anything else that surrounded them. Elthrinn wanted to ask what they were, but the words, her very breath, stuck fast in her throat. Whatever they were, it was evidently what Jorm had intended for her to see. He started to speak without a prompt from her, motioning towards the two hideous items as he did so.
"These are trolls, after a fashion. The one on the left is mummified. It's hard to get the full sense of the thing from the way it's been done. They say it was dragged back from a battle, so it probably wasn't in the best condition to begin with. The other is a sculpture, but it lacks the realness of the real thing. I don't know, maybe it's the spittle, or the fetid breath, the leer, the insults, the grunts," he paused, and inhaled deeply, "or maybe it's watching them rip your friends limb from limb that makes them so terrifying."
Elthrinn tried hard to reconcile the two icons in front of her. At first, they recalled her nightmare of the previous moon. They seemed to be uncomfortably similar to Gorren's half form, but when she looked, really looked, she saw the differences. The trolls would be about the same height, but their arms were longer, long enough that their knuckles would drag on the floor when they walked. The toes and fingers were elongated, but nimble, not as visibly strong as Gorren's had been. The heads and bodies were devoid of all but the most sparse hair. The ears were long and oversized, with pointed tips. The eyes were squinty, and wholly black, there was no difference of colour to denote iris or pupil. Somehow the trolls looked more human than she remembered Gorren's form being, despite the facial features being twisted and deformed, and she hated that she'd noticed that.
Elthrinn swallowed before she could speak. "Why are you showing me these?"
"You need to see them. This is what we fight when we go to the border. This is what Gorren's been fighting for years. This is what he's used to fighting."
"And you mean to scare me, to give me more nightmares?"
"No," Jorm interrupted her sharply. "You don't understand. Maybe you have a glimmer of comprehension, but it's unlikely. You can't know what it's like to be there, facing rank, upon rank, upon rank of these monsters. We need our other forms. That form that scared you so, that's what keeps Gorren alive. That's what allows him to beat these devils, it's what will keep him coming home to you. He's intelligent, he has foresight, he's a good Captain, a better friend, he's destined for better things..."
"And I'm holding him back."
"Yes." Jorm wheeled, and grabbed Elthrinn's arms. She could feel in the tension of his hands that he was trying not to shake her. "But not in the way that you think. That you can't change has fuck all to do with anything. That you
're not a wolf doesn't fucking matter. He's chosen you. You should be afraid of him, especially in that form, because he is absolutely deadly, but if you could accept him, accept all of him, he would be the most powerful wolf in the country."
Jorm's intensity was scaring her, almost as much as his words. "I don't... I didn't know..."
Her stuttering seemed to get through to Jorm, but he didn't sneer at her for being pitiful. He released her arms, but he didn't step away.
"He's half of himself, half of what he needs to be without you. He's lost in hating himself. If you can't love all of him, you'll get him killed."
"But he's not without me, I'm still here," Elthrinn argued weakly.
"No, you're not. Not really." Jorm shook his head, but his tone was gentler now. "It's not your fault that you don't understand what happened, but you haven't let him explain it to you. It's a wrong thing to change like that outside of a battle, and especially in the middle of town like that. That's how angry he was, how scared for you he was. But you don't understand the other side of it either. His father had to change to his half form to beat him, and he wasn't beating him. Gorren was winning that fight."
Searching the Darkness (Erythleh Chronicles Book 2) Page 24