Troubled Waters: Day 10

Word Count: 60,118

Summary of Events:

Bergljót discovered a string of sausages and a jar of pickled beets were missing from the cellar, suggesting the thieves were human, but she was at a loss as to who they might be. Hallbjörn had another frustrating day with Nótt and was astonished to be presented with a large and delicious dinner, including cake, that he realised was in honour of his birthday. Bergljót felt badly that Hallbjörn had been so touched as to cry over the birthday dinner, and so went to his room to check on him later and he invited her in to talk; before meaning to leave she expressed hope things would go better with Nótt soon . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

Exhaling heavily — suggesting a pessimistic tone — Hallbjörn shook his head before looking at Bergljót. “I have a feeling I’ll be stuck here for years trying to get through to him.”

“Oh surely not,” Bergljót said, surprised at his pessimism.

“I’ve never had to rehabilitate or tame a horse,” Hallbjörn said.

“But have you taught a horse how to be ridden?” Bergljót asked.

“Yes,” Hallbjörn replied. “My father’s the King’s Own Horse-Breeder, and although I’m not his firstborn son I’m the one who’s better with horses, thus I’m the one likely to inherit the estate and title.”

Bergljót startled. To be the King’s Own of anything was very important, and the son of such a man was sleeping in her older brother’s old bed, staying in her house, eating her food?

“You seem shocked,” Hallbjörn said.

“I would’ve only thought you to be an employee of a man of that importance, not his son,” Bergljót said.

“Well I am,” Hallbjörn replied. “And Nótt already knows how to be ridden, what’s the sense of going back and doing it all over again?”

“I don’t know,” Bergljót said.

Hallbjörn sighed, sounding quite defeated.

“I think you’re both too fixated on the shipwreck and the storm,” Bergljót said. “It’s the last time either of you saw each other until now really, and it’s such a terrifying thing it’s hard to forget. Maybe it would help to go back and do something you know how to do, both of you, as it will remind you of quieter times, happier times, safer times.”

“You really think so?” Hallbjörn asked.

“Anything’s worth a try, I’d think,” Bergljót replied. “After all, I can’t speak from experience, I’ve never seen a horse taught to be ridden before. But it’s something you both know, so it should be easier.”

Hallbjörn said nothing for a long time, Bergljót started to feel like her eyelids were heavy.

“Here you go again,” Hallbjörn said. “Coming up with ideas that just seriously might work.”

“We’ll have to see in the morning, though,” Bergljót said.

“Yes,” Hallbjörn said.

Bergljót got to her feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable as Hallbjörn’s hand caught her arm and slid down its length as she moved away.

His grip tightened when he got to her fingers. She turned around to protest, only to have him gently kiss her fingers just above the back of her hand. He released her hand, laid back down, and turned onto his side so that his back was facing her.

Slowly and somewhat warily Bergljót pulled her hand to herself, rubbing over her fingers where his lips had pressed. She had just been kissed by the son of the King’s Own Horse-Breeder. The only man who’d ever kissed her before was Papa.

Somewhat alarmed, Bergljót hurried out of the room and into her own, scrambling into her nightdress and under the covers as quickly as possible. Even if it had only been a gentlemanly gesture, Bergljót couldn’t help but feel shocked and unsettled by the encounter.