Dragoncrest Cliffs Underwater

Was there any greater pain than to be the cause of, and witness, such misery in your beloved? To know you had cut their heart, shaken their strong resolve, and permitted sadness to root itself like a weed in a garden?

Njord had known he had erred despite his best intentions. That his choices had fractured, if not broken, the vows of trust he had promised Meerkat on their wedding day…. But to actually hear her cries, in the flesh, was a pain worse than death. He held her tight – tighter than he ever had before – face pressed into the sandy ruff he had so deperately missed.

The muscles clenched around his jaw to hold back visceral emotions that threatened to pour from him. Perhaps it was a natural response to seeing your partner in a state – an attempt to try and keep it together. Yet Njord shook with the effort. His adams apple bobbed up and down, stiffling the hiccups of sobs that fought to be free. Fast blinks shepherded tears to the corner of his eyes when Meerkat pulled away.

Their glassy eyes met as water spills onto the beach. Njord’s lips pulled themselves into a smile despite his short breaths, and he leaned into her touch, relieved, until her paw cradled his temple. A long, shakey exhale pressed itself from his lungs as he felt Meerkat’s gaze rove across the new wounds, face changed by the trials of his summer abroad.

Words came next. Though his wife’s voice was symphony to the ears, Meekat’s rhetorical questions went unanswered. It felt like there were no earthly words to satisfy the sentiment that he had left her alone, with newborns at her breast, to wonder… if he had gone. Died. Drowned. Despite this, Njord knew he had to try.

“I’m sorry, mo luaidh. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into her ear, smoothing the hair of her cheek with the gentle touch of his maw. He heard Chacal’s words behind them, and felt the shifting of their presence towards the wood… thankful to the young leader for the space to be alone with his beloved.