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 You Pray For Rain, Coira || Kelly
Gerda Ingrid Nordskov
 Posted: Dec 17 2017, 11:22 PM
Quote
  • Magical Beings (36)
  • The Snow Queen
  • Nordheim
  • “Oh how the hills were laughing. How the creeks they cried. How the grass would cheer on. As we passed them by.”
Skylark


a silhouette against the rising sun

“Be careful you two!” The ever-worried mother called out, to the two children spinning each other round in the snow. “There’s ice everywhere and I don’t want to see either of you hurting yourselves!” She added, turning then to unpeg one more bedsheet from where it was blowing in the icy breeze on the washing line quickly losing its tether in the wind.

Gerda only out of caution, out of the worry she expressed for everyone. Her children especially. Some might look at her and think she smothered them, was too cautious with them both. Too overbearing. Too overprotective. But if they knew what Gerda knew, if they had faced the loss she’d faced, they’d know just what it meant to keep those two young souls safe from all harm.

(A task she had once nearly failed in. And a duty she would never fail in again.)

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the girls don’t get too ahead of themselves, Gerda!” The father of Ilse’s friend, the quiet, freckled girl with the tight brown curls who Gerda’s daughter was currently spinning perhaps a little too fast for her liking, yelled back across a solemn promise in a booming laugh. Thanks in part to the friendship of their children, and again due to Gerda seeing his wife through an illness which almost claimed her, the two had grown to become friends. Parents unified in their ultimate task to defend their children with all they had.

Gerda smiled her thanks, returning then to the final cardigan of Ilse’s, pulling it from the line and tossing it in the laundry basket with all the rest. At she hoisted it up onto her hip, her eyes pass from her daughter and her friend, to her son. The boy with flame red hair like her own, the boy who had never found a home here like his sister had. Ivar leaned up against the front wall of their little cottage, arms crossed, sulking like nearly always about so much that it was hard even for Ilse to lift a smile from her brother these days.

The freckled girl’s older sister sat in the snow beside him, staring up almost in awe at the sullen-faced Nordskov son. Wittering on endlessly as Ivar failed to say a single word in return. It didn’t look as if she was remotely perturbed however, happily holding that one-way conversation all on her own as Ivar’s face creased in the concentration required to ignore her.

His mother’s heart lurched to think once more about how unhappy he was here. It was a thought never far from her mind, just as Ilse’s joy here never was. Ivar would never be happy here, he wouldn’t be happy until their life was back the way it once was. Back in Lourmarin where he had grown up, when it had been just the three of them.

Gerda sighed and shook her head, banishing that thought back to the space in her heart it always occupied. She settled the basket against her hip again and was about to move towards the cottage when something caught her eye. Just a little way in front of her, round the side of her home where no one but her eyes could see her for now.

Coira. The faery princess who’d befriended her, who had rescued her in her time of greatest need. The one who those months ago now had brought their little family here in order to save Ilse’s life. A kind-hearted creature who Gerda knew she owed so much to.

“Can you keep an eye on the children for me? I won’t be gone long!” The mother called across to the father making snow angels in the frozen ground to make their daughters laugh. “No problem! I can keep the little munchkins out of trouble!” He calls back, rising from the snow with bright red cheeks before storming towards the two little girls, roaring like a monster, and then lifting them both into the air.

The sound of their excited giggling and his warm laugh brought a smile to Gerda’s lips.

One which disappeared almost as soon as it arrived.

Laundry basket abandoned in the snow for the time being, she headed around the side of their cottage where the princess was waiting. Her boots crunching in the thick snow, arms holding her shawl tightly around herself.

“Coira.” The name comes with the fog of her breath. Gerda wasted no time in pulling her friend into a tight embrace, practically collapsing into her arms now they were out of view shot of her children. “You don’t know how glad I am to see your face again.”

@Kelly // Hope this all works <3
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