Son and Throne - Diana Knightley Page 0,71

well as here. We can buy food. I am verra tired of fish, I would like some bread.”

“It’s a deal, let’s do that, beginning tomorrow, for tonight I want to introduce you to the fun of makeup sex.”

“What dost that mean?”

“Sex after a fight, it’s good because it’s a way of asking for forgiveness.”

He smiled. “We hae forgiven each other, but I would like tae try harder in the askin’.”

Forty-eight - Kaitlyn

I had been fishing. The stream we camped near had a wide low rock. I stood on it, holding the fishing pole Magnus had fashioned. This was something that had become routine but also terrifying. What stood between me and food, between Magnus and food, was this pole and my abilities.

Luckily it was something I could do.

I was so tired of trout.

I was growing used to being alone out here now. Magnus would go to hunt. We had the two-way radios and he never went too far. I loved our life now. There was something really beautiful about this stage in our lives. We had never ever ever in any lifetime been alone like this, day in and day out.

But, my arms were empty, and there was a longing. In the beginning when I was alone at the edge of the water I would cry, but overtime my grief got all cried out. Like there were no more tears left. Magnus and I felt our grief settle, past the acute stage and into chronic. We both felt responsible. But also it was something that we couldn’t help. Not really. Some days I soothed him, kissing his temple, telling him things like, “You did everything you could,” and on some he comforted me. His strong arms holding me. His whispers warming me. Together we talked and laughed, but there were spaces where we held hands and were quiet.

I would put my forehead against his shoulder and we would just breathe. Loss was all around us, weighing us down, but we were so fucking lucky to be together.

I stared out at the stream, holding my pole, rhyming babbling brook with things like ‘I mistook,’ and ‘what I would cook,’ rapping to keep my mind busy. “Yo yo yo, streaming stream... Why ya gotta be so mean? Why ya can’t give me a fish — it is my most fervent wish, but actually now that I imagine, what I really want is giant cannon, to shoot me to the moon! You know what’s on the moon? Cheese, cheesy wheezy wheeze, man I want some cheese...”

My pole jerked, the familiar tug of ‘something for dinner.’ I pulled the fish to shore and landed it beside the other. Two trout would do for our calorie consumption for the rest of the day. Though Magnus was looking thin. I peered down into the eddy and saw another trout, right there... I cast my line into the water again.

“Trouty, Trouty, big and pouty, I’m gonna eat you, hungry hungry Katie goin’ to...”

That’s how I was alone, like that, silly rapping down by the river while I imagined Magnus was writing poetry while he chased rabbits. Though who was I kidding? Magnus was still, quiet, patient. He would just sit and wait for the rabbits to hop into his lap.

I loved that about him, his mountain-ness, his fucking depth. While my depths were shallow as the stream that I was standing beside, my emotions bubbling to the surface — he was calm as the mountain.

But we were both carrying sadness, and I could see his behind his eyes, a reflection of my own. We both missed our children. Together we both carried the loss of everything: our family, civilization, convenience, and he carried the loss of his throne, of being king, of being the one who handled things and did it well.

Right now we had each other.

It was enough.

I caught that third motherfucking trout. Because I was queen of the stream, the best of the fishers. I was a lean and mean fishing machine — the greatest of wishers.

He called me on the radio. “I hae a surprise for ye...”

“Is it—?“

“Nae, m’apologies, but I found buachiar and some greens and berries.”

“Awesome, I love mushrooms. I have breac.” I lifted the string of trout to my shoulder and carried it home.

I called it a feast, but it was only to be nice. We cooked the fish, and ate it with our fingers. The berries were too tart, but it was a nice change of pace. The green leaves

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