XXXIV. Reuniting Hearts

*I can feel her. Arrion hates it when I say that it will be a girl. It infuriates him. But I can feel her. I know it is a girl. When she moves within me and kicks her little feet, I know who she is. My belly grows bigger by the day and the days turn more difficult for me to navigate. But that only means that I am that much closer to meeting her. I hide in the corners of the room at night and cry, I only wish Alden was by my side. I only wish that he could feel her kicks. He would know that she is a girl too. He is not blind to things like Arrion is. I want to name her Eadlin. My princess. My little love. I cannot wait to hold her in my arms and watch her grow into a beautiful woman.*

Elva’s tear wet the page and she held the journal to her chest. This was the last entry in the pages, even though the journal remained half empty. She had died soon after.

She shook as she readjusted her position, pushing herself deeper into the corner of the room, crying in the darkness just as her mother had.

The dress she wore was still the same one as last night, and the front of it remained shredded into pieces. Her neck was swollen, bruised just like her wrists, and though she had no one to talk to, her vocal chords were in too much distress to lend her any control over her voice.

Last night had been like a nightmare to her. Her father walked away from her, as if granting Agnar permission to defile her without a care for her wants or her feelings.

She trembled as she remembered how weak her body felt as Agnar stole her breath. His rage was palpable, and blackness had covered her quickly. Upon the return of her consciousness, though, she quickly learned that Agnar had not touched her beyond the ripping of her dress. She did not ache between her legs and the remainder of her clothes remained intact.

It was a momentary flash of relief. It was instantly overcome by the horrifying anticipation of yet another night that would have to come.

She hadn’t seen Agnar all day, nor her father. Meena came by sporadically with food, but neither spoke, and Elva hoped that it was due to guilt that Meena kept her mouth shut.

As the hours went by she could not stop herself from thinking the worst. Eksel was probably dead, and no one was coming to save her.

Not Alden, not Sigrid, not Sten. No one.

She was alone.

She leaned her head back on the wall and slowly began to drift to sleep. Her mind was a mess of black shadows and pained cries and she startled awake when a loud commotion was heard outside.

Fear shook her. She could hear the shouts, and could see the warm glow of lit torches. She could hear the steps of men running.

What was going on?

Her door shook and she pressed herself to the wall, shaking her head, thinking that it was Agnar who was fighting his way inside.

Bodies clashed against the door and it slammed open.

She screamed, though only a hoarse grunt left her lips.

The large body of a guard fell to the ground, his eyes open but glassy and blood pooling underneath him from his chest.

Elva’s eyes filled with tears but when she looked up it was Sigrid who stood before her. Her friend. The one who had made her laugh and fed her and walked her through some of her more difficult moments.

But he was a man. A man who could hurt her just as easily as Agnar did.

He thrusted his hand toward her, but she looked at him with parted lips and hesitant eyes.

“Elva,” He approached her and she shook her head, burying herself deeper into the darkness of the room.

Sigrid stopped for a moment, dropping his hand and eyeing what he could with the low light from the fire. He lowered himself into a squat, dropping his shoulders when he noticed the bruises that littered her skin.

“Elva, I’m here to get you out,” He whispered.

She looked over his shoulder, chewing on her lips.

“Eksel’s not here.”

She grimaced, looking away and down at her hands. Of course he wasn’t here. There was very little hope that he was even alive.

“But we’ll get him too.”

She looked up at him her lips parting on an inhale. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. Not now, not after everything.

“You’ll be together.”

That was all she had wanted. That was why she said no to Agnar. She could not let that all go to waste. She could not let him win. She could not let her mother down, her mother who wanted to see her grow.

She grabbed her journal, pushing herself to her feet. Sigrid stood as well, reaching his hand to her again. Still, she did not take it.

“You’ll be safe.”

The word had her trembling. She had forgotten what it meant, what it felt like to be safe. What did that even look like anymore?

“Elva, we have to go. Please. We only have so much time.”

She looked down at the dead guard and hugged her journal to her chest, finally taking his hand. She stepped over the blood and followed closely as Sigrid led her through the longhouse and out the back.

“We will have to escape from the back, here, cover yourself,” He pulled his cloak off from his shoulders, placing it over her and covering her face with its hood.

She ran to keep up with him, finding it odd that the back of the village was so empty. It was so quiet and she looked around for any sign of people around.

“Your uncle is distracting them at the front,” Sigrid whispered over his shoulder.

Elva swallowed.

Not her uncle.

*Her father.*

They zigzagged through the houses until they were met with the back fence. Two guards were dead on the ground and a man, who she recognized as one of Eksel’s men, stood between two wooden posts.

They had managed to tear down a part of the fence.

He urged them on and Sigrid pulled her ahead of him, softly pushing her out to the open field.

“Elva.”

She stepped back, not expecting the voice.

Sten stood before her, reaching out his hand but she refused to take it. He frowned at her and looked over her shoulder to Sigrid.

Sigrid only shook his head sadly and nodded toward the forest, “Let’s go. Give the signal to Alden, we need to get out of here.”

The other man nodded and ran back into the village, no doubt carrying out whatever part of the plan was next.

Sten and Sigrid quickly began to walk her toward the forest, weaving through the trees until they reached a second clearing where they had tied their horse.

Sten looked down at Elva once they stood, “Are you alright, little fool?”

Elva looked at him, pursing her lips together. She recognized his attempt at connection and hated herself for not being able to reciprocate. She only nodded and held her journal closer.

Sigrid stepped to Sten and whispered so only he could hear, “She has markings on her neck.”

Sten recoiled, “He choked her?”

Sigrid chewed on his lip, “We’ve got to get her out of here.”

“We will, as soon as Alden finds us.”

Alden had to lose the men that Agnar had sent after him after their heated yelling match. Thankfully he had some of his men with him and they soon killed the small group of scouts and circled their way back to where Sten, Sigrid and Elva waited for them.

Elva shifted from where she stood when she recognized Alden atop his horse. He pulled to a stop and quickly dismounted, taking strides until he stood before her.

He gave one quick nod of gratitude to Sten and Sigrid before looking down at his precious daughter.

She reached for him, surprising herself enough to have her drop her hand almost immediately.

“Fa-Uncle,” She whispered hoarsely, her chin quivering.

Alden’s eyes softened and he reached for her, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his fingers.

“You’re safe,” He whispered in relief.

She pursed her lips tightly nodding as if trying to reassure herself that she was indeed safe.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulled her to him and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

She let herself rest against him, feeling the tiredness behind her eyes.

“My Eadlin,” He whispered.

Elva broke, pressing herself to his chest and sobbing until her head was pounding in pain and her chest could not keep up with her breath.

He held her tightly, like how he wished he had held her since she was born.

He held her like how she wished she had been held all her childhood.

He held her like how her mother wished to have been able to hold her.