Chapter 103 Close Enough

Chapter 103 Close Enough
Lyanna

The rain began while Elias was trying to start the fire.
One drop struck the back of his hand. Another landed on his cheek before he looked beyond the rocky overhang at the clouds swallowing what remained of the evening light.
He swore.
I smiled.
“You will find this considerably less amusing in five minutes.”
The rain arrived before I could answer.
It swept across the mountainside hard enough to blur the trees. Elias abandoned the fire and dragged our packs farther beneath the rock while I gathered the blankets before the water reached them.
He glanced over. “I thought I told you to rest.”
I signed, You tell me many things.
“And yet so few seem to have any effect.”
I spread the blankets.
The overhang was deep enough to keep us mostly dry, though the wind drove mist across the outer edge. Elias tethered the mare beneath the pines nearby and returned with wet hair plastered across his forehead.
I held out a cloth.
He took it and wiped his face before looking toward the trail. Water already streamed through the ruts we had followed down.
“We’re staying here tonight.”
I signed, I had gathered that.
His eyes narrowed. “Was that sarcasm?”
I turned toward the food.
“Lyanna.”
I looked back innocently.
He shook his head and returned to the fire.
It took most of our dry kindling to coax a flame into existence. By the time he succeeded, I had divided dinner.
Unfortunately, dinner included salted meat.
Elias sat beside me and looked at the portions.
I had given myself more dried fruit.
His eyes lifted to mine.
I signed, Pregnant.
“That excuse is becoming remarkably versatile.”
I pointed at the meat.
Leather.
“It is food.”
I tore off a piece and chewed it while maintaining eye contact.
His mouth twitched.
The storm worsened after dark.
Cold settled beneath the rock despite the fire, and after watching me shift for the fourth time, Elias moved behind me and pressed his palm against my lower back.
I leaned into the pressure.
“Better?”
I nodded.
His thumb worked slowly along the aching muscle beside my spine. The climb had left my hips and back protesting every movement.
The baby pushed beneath my ribs.
I shifted.
Elias’s hand stopped.
“Him?”
I nodded and caught his wrist, bringing his hand around to my stomach.
The child moved again almost immediately.
Elias frowned at the spot beneath his palm.
“He has been doing that all day.”
I signed, He lives there.
“I am aware.”
Then stop looking surprised.
“He appears determined to escape through your ribs.”
My shoulders shook with a laugh.
Another push made me shift.
“Does it hurt?”
I shook my head and signed, Pressure.
“Do you need to move?”
I adjusted until my back rested more comfortably against his chest.
Better.
His arm remained around me while we watched rain pour beyond the firelight.
After a while, Elias reached forward to adjust one of the branches. His injured shoulder pulled stiffly with the movement.
I tapped his arm.
“It aches,” he said before I could ask. “The wound is still closed.”
I nodded.
He glanced down at me.
“And your back?”
“Better.”
The word came out hoarse.
Elias passed me the water flask.
I drank before he could tell me to.
“Better enough for tomorrow?” he asked.
I considered it, then signed, If the path is kinder.
“It won’t be.”
I stared at him.
“At least I’m honest.”
I elbowed him lightly.
He laughed.
The sound pulled a smile from me before I could help it.
We stayed beside the fire until it burned low.
When Elias began arranging the bedrolls, I stretched one leg toward my boots and immediately regretted the attempt. My stomach prevented anything resembling graceful bending now, and the ache in my back made the angle worse.
Elias looked over.
I looked at him.
Neither of us said anything.
Then he crouched in front of me.
“Foot.”
I lifted one.
He loosened the laces and worked the boot free before taking the other.
I signed, I could have managed.
“I know.”
His expression said something entirely different.
I nudged his knee with my socked foot.
He caught my ankle before I could withdraw it.
“Violence again.”
I raised my brows.
He released me and tucked the boots beside our packs.
There was barely enough dry stone for both bedrolls, so he overlapped them and spread the heavier blanket across the top.
I lay on my side with my back toward him.
Elias settled behind me and pulled the blanket over us. His arm came around my waist as naturally as it always had.
The baby apparently objected to sleep.
A hard movement pressed against my side.
I groaned.
Elias lifted his head.
“Again?”
I took his hand from my waist and placed it over the offending spot.
The child moved beneath his palm.
“That cannot be comfortable.”
I shook my head.
His hand moved slowly across the curve until the pressure eased.
I settled deeper against him.
After a while, he asked, “Is he always this active at night?”
I nodded.
“I thought so.”
I looked back.
He shrugged. “You move when he does.”
I turned forward again.
Of course he had noticed.
His palm remained warm over my stomach.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then I felt him shift behind me.
“You know,” he said, “this explains several things.”
I glanced over my shoulder.
His mouth had curved.
I waited.
“The expressions.”
My brows drew together.
“You used to make faces at people.”
I stared at him.
“Constantly.”
I shook my head.
“Yes.”
My hands moved beneath the blanket.
You imagined them.
“I did not.”
You are dramatic.
“There. That one.”
I frowned harder.
He laughed quietly.
I turned away from him.
His arm tightened around me before I could shift farther.
“Apparently I was being insulted far more often than I realized.”
I signed, Frequently.
“I knew it.”
My shoulders began shaking.
Elias went still behind me.
The laugh escaped before I could contain it.
It was barely more than a breath with sound caught inside it, rough and thin from disuse.
I stopped.
Elias did not say anything.
I turned my head.
He was watching me.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t.”
“I have said nothing.”
“You were going to.”
His expression became suspiciously innocent.
I recognized the tactic.
I turned away again.
His chest moved against my back with another quiet laugh.
A few moments passed before he said, “Were you really insulting everyone?”
I signed, Mostly you.
“That is reassuring.”
You deserved it.
“Usually?”
I considered the question.
Then signed, Frequently.
His hand squeezed lightly at my waist.
“You are much more troublesome with a voice.”
I glanced back.
My throat had begun tiring again, but the answer was worth the effort.
“You liked me troublesome.”
Elias went quiet.
The words had come out softer than I intended.
His gaze held mine.
For one heartbeat, I wondered whether I had crossed somewhere we were not ready to go.
Then his mouth curved.
“I did.”
The past tense caught somewhere inside me.
His expression changed before I could look away.
“And apparently,” he added, “I still do.”
Warmth crept up my neck.
I turned back toward the fire.
His arm remained around me.
The rain continued beyond the overhang, harder now, drumming against stone and leaves until the entire mountain seemed wrapped in it.
I covered the hand resting over my stomach with mine.
After a while, Elias said my name.
“Lyanna.”
I tilted my head.
He was quiet long enough that I almost turned around.
Then he said, “Nothing.”
I smiled into the blanket.
My fingers tightened around his.
This time, neither of us needed anything else.