 Gar knew that he shouldn’t have been there; it was in everyone’s best interest for him to stay far away from the little cottage in the woods. Alone in The Pantheon the Dane maintained the pretence that he and Thyri had argued and that she had left him, disappearing off to Odin knows where. It was not difficult to believe either that Rhaegar was too proud to go looking for her. The lies kept them safe; concealed in amongst the green of the trees which reminded him of the great forests of Earth that had been long-lost to time. For the most part he had stayed away; leaving daily messages with Dr. Gupta do be delivered to Thyri at the doctor’s discretion. Gar sensed that the man didn’t like him very much; he was always polite, but it was that stiff, strained kind which indicated that something else was going on beneath the surface. The Dane was under no delusion; Gupta was helping Thyri, not him...it was curious how she always managed to find the people she wanted when she needed them.
He perched on the edge of a small table, one long leg crossed over the other as he peered down at the baby asleep in the crib. The child looked tiny to the God. He was bigger than he had been the last time Rhaegar had seen him, and had grown a light covering of red-blonde hair, but he still seemed impossibly small. There was something Gar found strangely disturbing about its newness too. The child was a blank slate and the complete opposite of its father. It had no experience, no past, no memory, and Rhaegar often felt like he had too much of each. No, the Dane corrected himself, his son did have a past and that was him and Thyri. He didn’t envy him. Leaning forwards Gar held his hand out towards his son and watched with interest as the little boy’s hand closed around his index finger. It caused the Dane’s purple eyes to widen noticeably in surprise. Once, long ago, he had wondered what it would have been like to be a father, back in a time when he might have been good at it.
“Sorry for whatever I’ve gotten you into, kid,” muttered Rhaegar, “I don’t reckon you’re going to like me much.”
The hinges on the door from the bedroom creaked as Thyri entered the sitting room. The Dane withdrew his hand from the crib sharply and was surprised when the baby didn’t start crying.
“Rhaegar,” Thyri said, sounding surprise, “what are you doing here?” He jumped free of the table he was sitting on and crossed the floor to meet her, closing his hands around hers. Her eyes didn’t soften as he expected, instead they narrowed looking suspiciously between him and the crib.
“I had to see you, I miss you,” he explained.
“You had to see me?” Thyri repeated with deliberate emphasis on the final syllable. When he didn’t reply she sighed and took a step away from him. She gestured at herself indicating that she wanted him to study her.
“I’ve nearly lost all the baby weight,” she explained, still sounding a little irritated, “I should be able to come back to The Pantheon soon.” Gar was just about to respond enthusiastically when the cottage’s front door opened and a white dog bounded in out of the rain.
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