And when I asked this question of Noc, he had an odd reaction.
His expression grew soft and kind (er) and he turned into me so we were front to front, close, dipping his chin into his throat to bring his face near, all the while holding my eyes.
“You look beautiful, Franka. You always look beautiful. Your cheeks flushed from being out in the cold, your eyes brighter because the pain is subsiding, you look more beautiful than yesterday and the day before, and I could go on with that.” His hand that was covering my fingers he’d curled inside his elbow tightened as his lips tipped up reassuringly. “It’s all good.”
I heard his words and yet I did not.
And it didn’t matter that I did and did not.
I promptly and fretfully asked him another question.
“Can you tell I still have pain? When I move,” I hastened to add. “Or even stand,” I kept at it. “Can you tell,” I got up on my toes, “at all?”
“No, baby,” he whispered hearteningly. “You can’t tell at all. Where you were, where you are now, every day I’ve thought it. You may just be the strongest woman I’ve met.”
My hand reached up and clamped over his sweater at his biceps, curling around, but in my state I didn’t notice the hardness of muscle underneath his wool.
“You aren’t saying these things just to soothe me, are you?” I pressed.
He shook his head. “No way. Truth. All of it, Frannie. Swear to God.”
I stayed right where I was, this close to Noc, holding on to his arm, but I turned my head toward where Frey was still standing, beyond which was a passageway that seemed dim and bleak.
Noc’s free arm slid carefully along my waist and my attention returned to him when he stated firmly, “If you’re having second thoughts, we’re outta here.”
I stared up into his eyes.
They’d all come. Out in the cold, they’d all come. To be there with me.
To be there for me.
And Noc was right there, close, holding me, reassuring me.
For his part, he wouldn’t have let me go without him.
I might be a new Franka Drakkar, and she was a woman I didn’t yet understand.
What I did understand was that I had to do this.
But this time it was not for my brother.
It was for me.
“You wanna do it, we’re with you,” Noc went on, and I again focused on him. “The final chapter, Frannie. The end of that book. Period. Dot. You’re done. You do this, you show them they didn’t break you, they never broke you, sweetheart, you walk away, close that book and move on.”
I heard every one of those words said in his strong, deep, rough but luxuriant voice, and they somehow seemed to sink into my flesh, my muscle, my heart, lungs, innards, all this forcing my scabbed-over back straight.
They’d never broken me.
I was free. My brother and I were safe.
And they were there. In that dismal, bleak place, a version of which they’d be in for the rest of their lives.
“You’re correct, Noc,” I stated smartly.
“Fuck yeah, I am,” he replied on a grin.
I squared my shoulders. “I’m ready.”
“Right.” This came as a determined growl, and he bent his face even closer to mine. “Then let’s do this.”
I nodded. Noc took that in, slid his hand from my waist and turned us both toward Frey, Finnie and the guard. As he did, he lifted his arm where I held his elbow and drew it and my hand in to hold them tight to the front side of his chest.
“She’s good to go,” he announced to Frey.
Frey watched Noc say this before he turned his eyes and studied me.
And then he said something that if Noc wasn’t holding me up would have set me on my behind.
“For the first time in my life, you’ve made me proud to be a Drakkar.”
I heard a little pip that I assumed came from Cora, who had closed in at my left side. It sounded like she was fighting back a sob.
What I saw was Finnie smiling at me so largely it had to hurt her face.
My eyes drifting from Finnie, Frey’s words warming my belly, my anxiety fully left me and my surroundings came to me.
I saw the building was not made of wood but cold, dull, colorless stone. There were iron bars that stood as a door to the passageway. The room we were in had several wooden chairs that lined the walls but did not invite you to relax and pass the time. There was also a high desk at an angle in the right corner where two men wearing city guard uniforms (but with black epaulets) were clearly on a riser for they towered feet above us, lording over the small room. And there were intermittent, round iron hooks on the walls, some with chains and manacles hanging from them, obviously where prisoners were shackled prior to being led to their accommodation in the back.
Thinking that there was a great likelihood my parents had been fettered thus, I felt a swell of wicked glee surging up my throat that I felt no shame about whatsoever.
The guard Frey had been speaking with moved to the bar door, jingling a large loop filled with keys.
He found one, opened the door, and with Noc and I following Frey and Finnie, the rest following us, we walked through.
The first section beyond the doors had two more guards in their guard clothing, one on each side of the space behind desks. Behind the men there was cabinetry, one side looking like it held drawers where files were kept, the other side with an abundance of locks, which meant they likely housed weapons.
They looked up at us and stood instantly, at first putting their fist to the underside of their chin, a salute to The Drakkar, then pressing themselves into bows in deference to their Ice Princess, Finnie.