Meadow

“Where were you?” the question hung heavily in the air between them. His Family. The Nordurland. But every reason seemed weak and pathetic now - so much - that his excuses clung to his whiskered lips. How could they stand on their own? Wasn't Oren and her just as much his family as those who resided in the frozen Nordurland.? "It's a long story," he finally breathed, knowing that this explanation was not enough to soothe the pain and loneliness she must have felt.

The tears that pricked her eyes stabbed a sharp dagger into the tender flesh of his heart. He had NEVER wanted to hurt her and he had done just that. He had left her alone with their young son - without even an explanation. And yet, she stepped to him and gently brushed her lips across his shoulder. An excited shiver tingled along his spine at her touch and a relieved breath slipped across his lips. Oren left me - he headed for Salem. she said softly. "Oh?" he said as his brows momentarily furrowed "Do you know where?" He could not ignore the tugging of his thoughts. He knew his mother now ruled over the Dunes and wondered if that is what drew the boy there.

Then like a tidal wave the emotions rolled over her once again. The words that spilled from her lips stung like salt in an already festering wound. What did I do, Sigurdr, that was so bad you had to leave me and our son? Without hesitation he stepped to her and wrapped his muscled neck around her shuddering shoulders.

"Ástin mín," he breathed into her salt laden tresses, "it was not you nor Oren. I was a fool, I should of told you of my departure... of my plans." he pressed himself harder against her.