Things have been...quiet. Esther hasn’t ever stayed in the same palace for so long; fall ended, dragging slow and warm in the Ridge, tipping over to a mild winter. It’s a striking contrast from her last experience, and she isn’t only referring to the warm weather. She’s continued to grow, sides swelling with their child as a mild winter creeps by. She sticks close to Sigurdr, unwilling to go far when she isn’t certain of her place in this strange land. It’s clear just how important the Ridge is to him, the careful way he has shown her every inch of it. Esher still hasn’t met Faolain, the formidable mare who holds this refuge, and she's frightened to do so. Esther hadn’t exactly asked for clarity around their relationship; for all she knows, Sigurdr could have betrayed his own mate for her. It wouldn’t be the first time, and she has a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t be the last.

They stand side by side on a high cliff, staring out at the vast ocean, and with Sigurdr’s warm, strong form pressed at her side Esther has let her eyes slip closed, drifting off to sleep. His warm, deep voice stirs her and her bright blue eyes open, a slow blink as she shifts. “It’s beautiful here,” Esther tells him sincerely. Her doubts about her welcome here all slip away when she sees his love for the Ridge. Her restlessness isn’t gone, though, Swimming is out - Esther missed her opportunity to run. So when Sigurdr asks if she’s scared, even though Esther knows he speaks of the birth she nods her agreement. “I’m terrified,” she confesses. She knows absolutely nothing about being a mother; she knows nothing about giving birth. But more importantly...she knows nothing about love. Is that what the pull she feels toward Sigurdr is? Esther doesn’t know; she hasn’t given herself the chance to assess it.

She lets out a shaky little sigh, and glances towards Sigurdr. “I don’t know how to be a mother,” she confesses. “This is the longest I’ve ever spent in one place. All I can think about is how I’m trapped.” It’s more honest than she should be, but Esther is a mess of roiling hormones right now. She chokes back a sob, pressing her face to Sigurdr’s shoulder. “What if I’m horrible?” She’s going to ruin the child, traumatize it beyond belief, Esther is certain. “What if they hate me?”