Apolline had never heard anyone speak of their home the way King Björn spoke of the Inlet. As he told her the white-snow blanketed mountains were his faðir, her honey eyes lifted to where she could see them rising from the forests in the distance. The thick, swirling winter clouds obscured their summit and she wondered how tall of a climb it would be to the top. As he spoke of the warm hot springs and told her they were his móður, Apolline’s eyes dropped down and she watched the water bubble and sizzle as little plumes of white steam drifted over the surface. Then there was bróðir, he said, the cliffs that kept him safe.

“I am always drawn back to her shores.”

“Oh,” Apolline said softly, but with some understanding. She had never felt that way about her home, but maybe if she thought about it…

"I have spoke at length about my home, now are you ready to talk about yours?"

Apolline’s eyes went to his handsome, scarred face, then away. It was too difficult to talk about her home. She couldn’t remember it before it became a dark, scary place of illness and death. Her slender red head dropped a little, ears flicking out to either side in faint distress. Tears began to fill her eyes, hot and prickling. She closed them and willed them to leave her be. King Björn was too kind a soul for her to cry in front of, she didn’t want him to feel bad for her. She was putting him and his kingdom in danger just by being here.

Apolline forced herself to take a steadying breath and opened her eyes. She couldn’t manage to look up at him, but her voice didn’t waver (though stayed small) as she admitted, “It’s gone.”

Well, not exactly. The land was still there, standing as it always had. The fields of seagrass that fell away into pebble beaches, where the blue waves rhythmically crashed gently over them, then raked them back atop each other; the large white cliff faces that were topped with deep, green grass year-round; the trees; the rivers… It all still stood, but for no one.

“Do I have to talk about it?” She asked in a small, pathetic voice, her eyes helplessly lifting up to his face. She should be braver. She should have warned him about what happened and let the king make whatever decision he needed to make, but Apolline was scared. She was too scared to tell him she was the reason everyone she’d ever known was dead.

apolline
along with the sunshine
there's gotta be a little rain some time