She loved early mornings on Bellassa.
Having developed the habit of waking up long before dawn while the house beyond yet remained silent, Aelin quietly worked to unlatch her bedroom window and crawl onto the rooftop, sitting with her knees pulled tight to her chest, watching the growing light creep over the panorama of trees that stretched on for miles and knowing it may very well be her last.
Gradients of beryl pink hues and dreamy oranges eddied together in the sky as the sun lifted higher and higher, painting the swaths of emeralds and sage in golden light, the sound of drowsy birds chattering to one another as they roused.
I could stay here forever.
She thought, allowing herself to dream of that reality for perhaps the first time.
Waking every day to watch the sunrise, running through the meadows and forests with Børre, splashing through the endless summer streams and rolling through the brambles.
Coming home exhausted, but fulfilled, met with a warm reception in the dining hall, the five Drage brothers sitting around the table and roaring hearth, joined together in varying rumbles of boisterous laughter and chock full of stories about their own days - not cold, or solemn, nor filled with the ramblings of madmen.
A future as bright as the sunrise.
Her eyes closed as the warm sunlight lighted across her skin, imagining Bjørn’s proffered hand reaching for her, “Come.” he’d urge in that kind, yet gruff voice. “Stay. You’re home. You’re safe.” An invitation to see what else life had to offer her, to see that life was not so listless and empty.
She wanted that. To take his hand and hold it, to kiss it and let the well of her tears pour out. She wanted it more than anything, so much so that her heart ached with longing.
With the back of her hand she brushed away unfallen tears, an unconscious part of her knowing that after today, the door to that dream would close forever.
Only restless days lay ahead.
