They both wake up

The gentle rocking of the faering kept lulling Isa back to the gentle embrace of sleep. She would have stayed under longer. However, it seemed Magnus had other plans. Missing the warmth of the body next to her, Isa cracked open her eyes to see that Magnus had sat up. His own gaze surveyed their surroundings, taking in the fact that they were far away from the knarr.

“Well,” he sighed, “it seems we are alone…”

Her small hand found his larger one, weaving their fingers together. Magnus squeezed back comfortingly, or as much as one could in this circumstance. Isa pushed herself up, joining her lover in taking in happy chittering of wildlife and the soft rush of water underneath them. Beams of sunlight splayed across the water, creating a cascade of colours across the ice melt.

A loud grumble from within the skiff startled Isa, but only for a moment as she zeroed in on the source. A bashful chuckle came from Magnus as he rubbed the stomach that betrayed him. “Heh,” his smile dazzled her, “sorry!”

Isa could not hold back her giggles as she lunged on top of Magnus. The faering rocked dangerously, but they toppled onto their makeshift fur blanket and the teenage boy wrapped her tight in his arms. “Well, if this is what it takes to get some love, I won’t eat anymore!” Isa loved the way his the corner of his eyes crinkled with genuine warmth as he grinned up at her. She rubbed the tip of her nose against his, getting lost in that dreamy face of his before they were rocked to the side.

“Whoa!” Isa shouted, falling off Magnus as their faering seemingly hit a rock. The cold sting of water ran down her backside as a splash seemingly found the opening between her collar and skin. With a grace of a flailing goat, Isa flung herself off the skiff and onto the riverbed they had thankfully beached upon. “COLD! COLD! COOOOLD!” Her frantic dancing only made Magnus laugh harder even as he clutched his chest in mild pain.

“Now who’s the dork~?” Swinging a leg over the edge of the skiff to the beach below, Magnus hauled himself onto land with much more finesse than Isa had. He caught her when she drifted closer, pulling her tight to him. His hand ran up and down her back, soaking the cold water into her shirt to ease the startling sensation. With a parting kiss to the top of her head, he let her go to inspect their supplies.

“Don’t bother, mine own.” Isa interrupted, gesturing offhandedly towards the faering. “It’s just some trade goods and a satchel of flint and kindling.” Her hand reached past the inner hem of her cloak, finding the small pouch tucked into one of the large pockets. The pouch containing her portion of the food had thankfully been replenished the day of the attack. Only a few bites were missing during their, erm, excursion that afternoon.

Isa let out a small huff as Magnus seemingly ignored her and went about uncovering the fur blanket they laid on, poking around here and there. She decided not to wait around uselessly, so Isa moved further inland to see if there were any herbs or berries they could use.

Careful to keep within sight of her beloved, Isa roamed the forest line, eyes scanning methodically for anything that stuck out. She almost passed by a flower but doubled back at the last second. Squatting down, Isa warily brushed aside some of the greenery surrounding the beautiful purple flower. She froze, hand jolting just a fraction, when she remembered something vitally important. Something mother had warned her about.

Nightshade.

Hesitation splayed across her fair face, the temptation to harvest some overwhelming. After all, she thought, we could sell it when we get to Constantinople. Her gloved fingers made the decision for her, plucking the juicy berries and flowers with ease, her small knife slicing the more potent roots. Isa tucked them into one of the spare pockets inside her cloak, proud that the curiosity Father fostered had enabled her not only to learn as much as she had, but had allowed her to get her cloak tailored for extra pockets. Some where already filled with pebbles or other little momentos found from places she deemed special on this current voyage. Others, with seeds, the occasional herb, or just plain empty.

A surprise grope at her plump rump had a rather undignified squeak come from her. Magnus chuckled, getting one last squeeze before pulling her towards him. “Well, it seems I found a bog witch~” His voice dripped with a teasing tone. “If the other villagers catch you, it won’t be pretty, especially not as pretty as you are~!”

Isa could not help but snort, casting side eye at her goofy lover. His only response was a revoltingly cute grin. “I’ll turn you into a newt.”

It was his turn to snort. His firm grip traveled up her front. “Fine by me, I love being pillowed between these two~!” Biting the bottom of her lip, Isa held back a soft moan as Magnus’ experienced fingers started playing with her breasts. She was about to respond with a witty retort, but he pulled away too fast. When she turned to glare at him, he was waltzing away with a mischievous smirk that hat the tip of his tongue poking out the corner.

“Come, my besotted völva, it seems you missed something on the faering.” His arms were held out, begging her to come to him as he walked backwards. Isa counted down in her head, disappointed she was a second off when Magnus’ foot found a slippery rock. His arms whirled like windmills as he tried to catch his balance. Landing with the grace of a drunken cat, the silly boy transformed his uncouth crouch into one with a modicum of dignity. “What can I say? I’m head over arse for you, mine queen.”