The Bird and The Wolf

by Raven Flanagan

  On the morning of the third day Freya woke up in the bed alone. The cold the night had seeped into the tent and gotten under her skin. She wasn’t ready to admit she’d grown used to sharing the bed with Cain. Yet, when she woke, she couldn’t stop the disappointment at finding she was alone.

  “Good morning,” Vistra greeted Freya cheerfully when she sat down to break her fast not long after the sun had crested over the line of trees. This morning was particularly frigid, and Freya was covered in a thick fur cloak she’d been gifted.

  “It’s a cold morning. I don’t think I’d call it a good one,” Freya replied.

  “It’s a fantastic morning!” Vistra kept going, “My son is in perfect health, thanks to you,” and she leaned forward with her eyebrows raised to compliment her smirk.

  “It wasn’t all me. He has a strong will and fought the fever well. I didn’t need to do much at all,” Freya tried to downplay with a shrug.

  “He came racing out before first light and ate everything in sight. Cain must have devoured a pack’s worth of food before running into the woods on his paws,” she waved at the direction of the tree line nonchalant.

  “Paws?” Freya was wide eyed and mouth agape.

  “Oh yes, it’s good to make the change after an illness. Days of sleeping, a full belly, and a run for a few hours will have him right as a spring day,” she wiped away a few breadcrumbs from her lap before continuing. “We should have music tonight. Cain will have a lot of energy when he gets back, and I think some dancing would do him good.”

  Freya had an ominous feeling as she looked at the dubious glint in Vistra’s eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the she-wolf was up to something. The way the Fargrim smirked was starting to become a family trait she easily recognized.

  “Did he say anything to you when he was eating?”

  “No, nothing directly to me. He seemed to be talking to more to himself than anyone around while he was stuffing his face. All I could make out was something about feathers, but who knows,” Vistra shrugged and leaned back in her seat.

  They both knew well that Freya had to have been the reason he was talking about feathers. She’d been sleeping in the opposite side of the bed from him. Cain had to have seen her feather when he woken up that morning. What could he have been saying?

  Pretty little bird, his words echoed in her mind and Freya turned away from Vistra to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Even though she was now sure he didn’t hate her that didn’t mean she knew what his feeling were towards her. Aurik had proclaimed his love for her and yet he’d never complimented her. Pretty.

  Cain had to have been talking about her. But she was so unsure at the same time. A massive and insanely attractive man like him couldn’t really think a frail defect like her was pretty, could he?

  Freya was startled when out of nowhere Vistra poked her in the center of her forehead and with her lips pursed into a grin she chided, “You’ll get wrinkles making a face like that. Don’t think too hard about dancing with Cain.”

  “That’s not what I was thinking about!” she couldn’t control the furious blushing on her cheeks and way her voice had pitched in response. It might not have been dancing, but she was absolutely thinking about Cain.

  “Hmph,” Vistra chuckled once again leaning back in her seat, “I never would have expected a thing like you to be delivered to us. It’s poorly obvious they wanted to rid themselves of you, but I’m thankful for it. I’m glad it was you, and I think Cain is too,” she placed her hand gently over Freya’s and gave a sincere squeeze. Her dark eyes met Freya’s bright blue ones and the look was so kind that Freya had to fight an onslaught of tears that were building in force.

  “Besides, I wouldn’t want a snooty peacock of a girl for my son. That’s why I told him he could refuse to give the offering. To go against a normal courtship and make an offering onsite is far from normal, but the way he looked at you I think he would have offered you anything,” Vistra seemed to be talking more to herself at this point while thinking of her son. Her eyes seemed far away in thought and Freya had a feeling she was thinking about her lost mate.

  “Your kind isn’t as reserved as the Adaryn usually are. It’s refreshing to not have to guess how you feel or what you think. Vistra I must admit I’m not reading Cain like you are. He didn’t talk to me for days because he thought I was afraid of him, and then he says silly things during his fever and - ”

  “What did he say in his fevered state?” Vistra interrupted.

  “I’m sure it doesn’t matter!” then she continued, “And when he woke this morning he didn’t speak to me and I was lying there right next to him,” she trailed off but then covered her mouth with her hand after admitting out loud they’d been in the same bed.

  Surely anyone could have guessed they’d been sharing the bed but saying it out loud was another thing entirely. The too intimate act was causing Freya to blush furiously and the feathers at her nape stood on end. Cain had only held her the first night, but their closeness in that environment was still embarrassing. It wasn’t like she was going to abandon her things in the tent to sleep outside or on the cold ground. Freya had done what she thought was practical in the moment.

  “I think what he said does indeed matter. In the heat of a fever one will usually state freely what’s on their mind. Well, that or utter nonsense. Either way I’d love to know,” her eyes were too dark and intimidating. Freya found she couldn’t hide from the way Vistra could pull out her thoughts and feelings without too much prodding. Her Adaryn reserve was crumbling.

  “No, it’s embarrassing. I won’t say,” she crossed her arms stiffly.

  “I’ll be in the room when you birth my grandchildren, you’re going to tell me,” the Wolfmother was radiating a dominant energy and Freya didn’t think she could hold her tongue much longer. Only moments passed as Vistra stared Freya down wearing out her resolve.

  “Pretty little bird,” Freya whimpered out under the pressure of the most intense stare down she’d ever received. Not to mention she was still burning hotly at the mention of giving birth, to Cain’s children no less.

  “Oh, for moon’s sake, he’s got it bad!” Vistra slammed her hand down on the table and then heartily laughed. Freya didn’t know what she meant, but her ears burned hotly while Vistra continued to laugh at her sons’ expense. “I’ll have more casks of mead opened for tonight. We’re going to need them!”

  Throughout the day Freya helped around the camp to cook a feast for the night. Vistra had insisted that fresh mead be opened and all musical instruments in their best shape.

  A few times Freya had gone into the edge of the woods or open clearing to look for herbs and mushrooms to add to the feast. More than once she heard a massive creature prowling nearby and that would send her scampering back to the safety of the camp.

  She’d grown used to seeing the Vargar in their wolf skins, but she knew Ivar was still out there. Vistra had told Freya more than once that she was sorry her brothers’ actions had led to the death of Raga. She had gone so far as to tell Freya to get revenge, but she wouldn’t let those thoughts get to her. Their new alliance was one of peace and she had to put her hopes on it.

  Family was incredibly important to the Vargar, but so was loyalty. Ivar had lost his trust and Vistra seemed as though as she was ready to kill him with her own hands. Freya didn’t know how Cain felt about his uncle or the situation. They hadn’t interacted much, so she doubted he would be aware of her hatred of Ivar.

  By the time the sun was setting the entire camp smelled like a mesh of different roasting meats over small fires in the middle of camp. A massive bonfire was in the final stages of being built and Freya could see Cain with a few other men splitting logs with their axes. This action had Freya’s utmost attention.

  Cain didn’t wear a top as he worked to get massive chunks of wood ready for the burn pile. His muscles rippled and stretched with every lift and swing of the axe. The power he radiated throughout the s
mooth and controlled actions had her core clenched tight in a way she wasn’t familiar with. Whatever she was feeling Freya sure enjoyed what she was watching.

  “Close your mouth before you start to drool, little bird,” a she-wolf with long auburn hair and grey eyes sat next to Freya. Lorraine was someone Freya had been spending a lot of time with since she’d joined the camp. They were of similar size and many of Freya’s new clothes had been gifted from her, including the long and soft green dress Freya was currently wearing.

  “Why would I be drooling?” Freya stiffened and went back to tearing apart the mushrooms she’d foraged earlier.

  “I’d say it has something to do with that hunk of meat you’ve been eyeing since he emerged from the forest. Don’t puff your feathers at me everyone can see it,” Lorraine picked up a mushroom and sniffed it cautiously before throwing it back in the pile with a grimace.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Adaryn don’t eat a lot of meat.”

  “My stars, you can play coy with me all you want but you’re horrendous at hiding what you’re looking at. My cousin is as thick as a rock if he hasn’t noticed by now as well,” Lorraine looked over at Cain and chuckled. “Who would have guessed the bird and the wolf would actually end up liking each other!”

  “Like me? He’s barely talked to me,” Freya scoffed.

  “The way you trembled when you saw him covered in blood, he thought you were terrified of him, you can’t blame him for keeping his distance. None of us knew we’d be getting someone like you out of this arrangement. Cain was likely the last one to imagine he’d actually want to be with whatever bird he was given,” Lorraine shrugged and leaned back against the log Freya was sitting on.

  “Has he said something to you?” Freya questioned quietly.

  “Hmm, we do talk sometimes. I ran with him this morning through the trees, but we didn’t talk. In our fur we don’t communicate the same as we are now. It’s apparent by his actions how he’s feeling. Our kind seem more perceptive to body language than your lot. The ones you came with were all stiff with their noses upturned,” she poked the end of her nose and scrunched it up to enunciate her point. Freya giggled at her.

  “It’s good to know I’m not stiff, but that doesn’t tell me how he’s feeling. By your laws he’s already my husband, and I don’t know him,” she threw the last torn mushroom into the bowl with the rest.

  “But by your laws he’s not. We can’t go back to the mountains until your people come have their ceremony under the moon,” the she-wolf sighed dramatically.

  “It’s what all couples do. My mother and father had theirs under the red harvest moon, and before that they told me the king and queen had theirs under a summer moon. They told my sister and I stories that the colony had partied the entire night for the royals,” she sighed remembering hearing stories with Raga when they were just little nestlings still covered in downy feathers.

  “Well you can forget those gilded birds; we’re going to celebrate for weeks at your joining with Cain. This is a once in a lifetime event and I’m positive it will be a happy union. You’ll talk to him tonight,” Lorraine pat Freya’s hands reassuringly.

  “But you still haven’t told me what he thinks of me!” Freya tried to silently hiss after Lorraine as she strolled away with a smirk. She’d been wondering all day what Cain’s feelings were towards her. The entire first week he’d avoided her, and she’d spent two days at his side while he was unconscious. Their brief interaction as he fell into the clutches of a fever weren’t enough for her.

  Since he’d returned from his run in the woods Cain had been moving around the camp nonstop. Vistra had been right that he was now full of energy. From helping skin beast for the meal, carrying around casks of mead, or chopping wood he hadn’t stopped. Freya was too nervous to approach him for a conversation. Hopefully he didn’t still think she was afraid, especially since she was spending all her time with everyone else in the camp.

  Lorraine came back awhile later with her sister Amaya when Freya was finishing up adding herbs and mushrooms to a small roast rabbit. They stood in waiting with their arms behind their back, eyes wide with mischief. Their grey eyes and wide smiles were making Freya nervous when she turned to acknowledge them.

  “Do you think she’ll fight us?” Amaya looked to Lorraine.

  “There’s no way she can take us at the same time,” and then they stepped forward.

  “Can I help you both with something?” now she was getting anxious at the two she-wolves stalking towards her.

  “We have something for you to wear tonight, but we’re not sure you’ll wear it without some… encouragement,” Amaya was still walking forwards hiding what was in her hands.

  Instinctively Freya began to back up away from the Vargar sisters. The two of them were already dressed for dancing around the bonfire, but not in what Freya would have grown up to know as clothing. In Adaryn culture they were wearing the equivalent to tied together scarves. Her face paled at the thought they had something similar hidden behind their backs for her.

  And she was right.

  The sisters used their height and warrior strength to wrestle Freya back to the tent where the encouraged her to try on a Vargar dancing dress. Dancing and celebrating where very important to the Vargar as it strengthened their sense of community. For the Adaryn it was more something those of higher status would participate in. Those living on the outskirts of the colony like Freya’s family had didn’t go to parties or celebrations unless it was something incredibly small without the family.

  Here she was dressed in a small blue dress that exposed almost all her arms and legs, including her entire back. Amaya had braided all of Freya’s platinum hair into a crown atop her head. Every inch of her feathered back would be exposed tonight, and she’d been trying not to do that around the wolves. Especially now she didn’t want to be exposed like this around Cain, but the she-wolves began to lead Freya out to the bonfire.

  Chapter 10

  The afternoon had a chill but the strength of the fire from the center of the camp was radiating fantastically. Freya was rejoicing in the heat while standing as close to the fire as was safe. She was getting a few obvious stares due to the revealed feathers trailing down her spine starting at the base of her hairline behind her head. It wasn’t malicious staring she was relieved to notice, more glances out of curiosity. They had all been expecting an Adaryn with wings, so she was aware they would have questions. Freya was the only one of her kind after all.

  Amaya and Lorraine had already found partners to dance with as the drums started to go. The glow of the fire and beat of the music was alluring and had a powerful pull to get one to start moving. Vargar moved their bodies in a way that Freya had never seen before. Adaryn dancing was so stiff compared to the way the wolves moved so fluidly. Freya was almost envious of how magnificent the she-wolves looked as they wrapped around their partners in such an intimate way.

  She was going to need some of that mead that had been pulled out for the night. It didn’t take her long to find a large mug of mead being offered up. This batch being served was far stronger than anything she’d ever had before, and the liquid burned her throat painfully as she swallowed. With her nerves still reeling at the outfit she’d been coerced into Freya forced herself to gulp it down.

  It didn’t take long for the mead to start to course through her and began to aid in lessening the overwhelming anxiety she was feeling. After two mugs she wasn’t feeling so shy in her outfit in this setting. The urge to join the dancing was several drinks away still.

  With the new freedom of mind swirling around in her head Freya didn’t notice how eagerly she was searching for Cain in the crowd. They hadn’t been near each other since they were both still asleep in bed, and her thoughts were now on how nice it would be to feel his warmth again. Where the bonfire was blistering on her skin his body had a gentle heat that relaxed every fiber of her being. There was no way she’d admit that sober.

 
Suddenly she saw him walking around the other side of the firepit. His hair was hanging limp around his shoulders in evidence of a recent wash and he was only wearing trousers. Freya openly stared at him, right up until the moment he turned and caught her eyes. Cain’s dark eyes locked on hers and she thought she was going to start melting in an attempt to get away from him, or maybe closer? She couldn’t tell with the way her body was reacting to the glint in his eyes, she felt warm.

  As if he was being summoned, Cain turned and made a slow progression towards Freya. His eyes never left her as he easily maneuvered the crowd of writhing dancers to get to her. Freya felt her body stiffen in anticipation as he made his way to her. The last time they’d actually talked to each he had been under the influence of a serious fever, and there was no way he knew what he uttered or did in the moments he fell unconscious. She wasn’t able to gauge his thoughts by the expression in his face, and to be honest with herself she couldn’t tell what kind of expression he was making. Cain had to be the hardest men to read she’d ever met.

  It felt like an eternity passed when he was finally standing before her. His body was close to hers and she could feel the fire at her back and his heat radiating against her front. Cain’s dark eyes were swirling with different shades of black and red and from her time with the Vargar she knew his beast was under the surface of his skin being held back.

  Freya didn’t know what it meant that he was fighting back his beastly side while standing before her. She meant it when she had told Cain that she wasn’t afraid of him, but the feathers on her neck started to raise. Her hand raised to her neck as if to hide them. Cain’s eyes moved to see the action and she noticed him raise an eyebrow curiously.

  “I meant to thank you. Vistra told me you were at my side for the past two days, and I appreciate your attention,” Cain had paused on the last word as if unsure of how he was going to phrase it.