n the firelit room on the floor lies Magnar, sleeping. A fitful sleep. Gromlaith kneels next to him. The fire crackles, flames dance shadows across the walls. Smells of earth, and herbs fill the room. With a gentle hand she touches his temples of grey hair, tracing his jaw and chin, stubble rough against her fingertips. Gromlaith tilts her head, watching, runs her fingers over the scar that slashed across his throat. The wound that she sewn shut, when his lifeless body was found at the river’s edge. Such a giant, so fierce, strong and, gentle. She rests the flat of her hand on his massive chest, so small she feels next to him. “what secrets do you keep hidden away?” she whispers.
Daylight breaks through the darkness,embers fade in the fireplace. warm sunlight creeps towards the sleeping pair. Magnar awakens, startled…eyes searching, heart racing. Finding Gromlaith, asleep next to him her hand on his chest. He covers her hand with his, completely concealing hers under his. His eyes soften upon seeing the bruised grip on her wrist. He searches frantically over her body, Seeing all the rage. The handprint on her neck, the bloody claw marks on her thighs. His eyes fall upon her bloody lip. Propping himself up on one arm, he cradles Gromlaith. With trembling hands, he touches each wound. In a broken whisper, filled with pain and tears. “I don’t understand?...You stand against my rage, my hate…why?”
Gromlaith’s eyes flutter as she hears his cries. She focuses on Magnar’s tear filled eyes. Gromlaith reaches up, caressing his cheek, “because you are my love”.