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Covered in burns, deep cuts, and bruises that left him incapable of even standing up from his cot, Prince Hríd waited in the infirmary. The burns all over his skin bore their pain deep into his bones. His scars were fresh, still bleeding out through hastily applied bandages across his forehead and chest.
The clerics, all busy tending to injured Niflian soldiers, had not checked in on him. This was all according to his orders - he was not willing to lose a single life among his people. Meanwhile, Fjorm was not on speaking terms with her older brother. He never told her the revelation Gunnthrá had shared with him, the day they all swore an oath. Instead, he disappeared without a trace one day, without warning, to recklessly take on Surtr by himself. As a man, he took matters into his own hands. But to Fjorm, it was as if he forgot his duties as First Prince and as her older brother.
The War against Múspell scarred all of them. Fjorm watched her older sister die, slowly and agonizingly burnt to a crisp by Surtr. Their youngest sibling, Ylgr, was missing. Though others in Askr's castle claimed to have seen her, Hríd had a hunch that he just couldn't shake - it was an older brother's protective instinct.
Hríd was in pain. He worried endlessly about his younger sisters, he felt lonely without them at his side. But he said nothing. He demanded the healers look after his own people before him.
I've failed my Kingdom. I've failed my family... If it's my time to go, then it's what I deserve, he thought to himself. I hope Lady Nifl will forgive me for my transgressions. If my time is up, I wish to see Mother and Gunnthrá again.
Hríd pondered this to himself and suffered in silence, as a man should, as he was raised to do. The crown he wore was heavy. The responsibilities of manhood, of being the first Prince of Nifl, being a protective brother to all his younger sisters, being a soon-to-be King, it weighed him down mentally, just as his wounds did physically. The clerics followed his orders and yet he felt so invisible.
Outside the infirmary wing and in the castle halls, Sky had finished all of her daytime duties as Summoner. Training drills for the new Heroes, cooking up meals for everyone in the Dining Hall, sending the strongest off to the Arena, and making sure the halls were cleaned up for the day, her hands were always full, her thoughts always on the people around her. A lot of Heroes had a tendency to just leave their weapons laying around after sparring, a mess she cleared up by turning Breidablik into a vacuum cleaner. Sky was diligent in keeping the castle in top shape. The sun was setting, she accomplished a lot in the day, and she was still itching for something else to do to keep her next few hours busy.
"Please, Anna, I heard there weren't many clerics on duty today. Healing is what I do best, honestly." the Summoner pleaded. "When I'm not swinging an axe around, I get the staff to do its thing, and people feel better."
"This isn't an excuse to see Prince Hríd again, is it?" the Commander questioned, furrowing her brow. She read her adjutant and that blooming crush of hers like an open book.
"Haha, what are you talking about?" Sky responded bashfully. "I overheard some of the Heroes talking about their day. Lucius said he had his hands full. Libra needed to check in on the orphans. Sakura and Elise? They're just kids! I'd hate to see them work themselves to the bone."
"Well, you have a point. More healing hands means more recovered Heroes, and that leads to more productivity, which leads to more money! Knock yourself out, I guess." Anna answered, giving the blonde a thumbs-up. "Just don't overdo it."
"Thanks! You won't regret it."
Sky grabbed her staff from inside her coat and bolted over to the infirmary wing of Askr's castle. She briefly checked in on everyone else first, before heading off to that one room in the far off corner.
Hríd waited patiently for someone to get back to him. As much as he wanted to get up and do something, he felt paralyzed, stuck in his bed, his body too weak to even move. In this moment he was stuck in his thoughts, ruminating on his reckless mistakes and stewing in regret.
And then... the door opened. There was a gentle pitter patter of footsteps, the subtle aroma of her fruity sweet perfume, not watered down by the iron stench of blood splatter this time around.
"Heya, Prince Hríd! I heard the clerics were short-staffed again today," Sky chuckled at her cheesy pun. "So I'm here to help! Is everythin' alright?"
The Ice Prince couldn't help but laugh along with the Summoner's joke. The angelic sound of Sky's chipper voice immediately brightened the mood. While she was humble and casual around him, Hríd idealized the Summoner. He couldn't help himself. She was the woman who ran headfirst into the battlefield to rescue him. She didn't care how it made her look when she spat in the faces of her enemies before killing them, just as brutal as they were towards him. Her small frame packed quite a lot of strength that she happily lent to him in battle without even knowing his name, and she was his first love.
Sky made her way towards him, staff in hand, and the two locked eyes for just a moment. His pupils were wide and sparkly, and there was a sliver of white under his icy blue irises. She shone her healing magic over him, and the bleeding over his forehead stopped. He felt some strength welling in his arms and legs. The pain wasn't weighing him down so much.
"Thank you Summoner. I was looking forward to seeing you today." Hríd smiled.
"Y-you did...?" Sky stammered, her face flushed red, and her eyelashes fluttered downwards in a coy manner. "Just Sky works, by the way!"
Just... Sky. Beneath her long, bold yellow bangs, he could see her beautiful eyes. They were a soft pastel blue like her name, with hints of purple near the pupils. It reminded him of sunrise over the snowy mountaintops of his homeland. He would be sure to remember it, always.
Their intense eye contact caught her off-guard, and she was quick to change the subject.
"I... packed a lunch for you too. I hope you enjoy it."
"Thank you."
Hríd enjoyed his meal slowly. He needed to take care not to choke as his body was still weak from injury. Inspecting the packed lunch, he saw a warm, hearty meat stew over a bed of rice. The meat was slow cooked with potatoes and tomato sauce, so it was tender and easy to chew. The rice itself was soft with a rich, buttery flavor to it. All the love and care that went into making this dish did not go unnoticed by the Prince.
At first, he didn't touch the strange, small green fruits with red chunks in them until Sky encouraged him to try one. They had this oily, salty and savory taste to them, and they complemented the meat well. He enthusiastically ate the rest, leaving behind a clean plate.
"What are these... fruit? They don't taste too sweet, and I wasn't expecting to enjoy them so much."
"So, these are olives, and they grow in bunches on trees. There's a lot of 'em where I'm from. The pits are taken out, and the olives themselves are filled with red pepper and preserved in brine. They can also be extracted for their oil. They're actually really useful in a lot of ways."
Sky continued talking about olives and other plants that thrived in the warmer climate where she grew up. She enjoyed sharing her knowledge with the Prince, and he loved listening to her.
"I see. Your world sounds so vast and fascinating, Sky. I would love to learn more about the climate and culture where you're from. And... I will have to repay your kindness one day, when I'm feeling better."
"Aw, don't sweat it! I'm a Summoner, that's just what I do. I'm always glad to be of help." She winked at him and blew a kiss good night before heading back to her cramped dorm. It was a little forward of her to act this way, but she couldn't help it.
Though his sisters couldn't, or wouldn't, visit him, and the clerics had a lot on their hands, at least Hríd could look forward to seeing the Summoner every day. Her visits gave him a reason to keep fighting on despite his grave injuries. He didn't feel so invisible whenever she showed up.
Meanwhile, hanging out with him bought Sky some time to not cram herself in a tiny broom closet for the night. It was better than ending the day crying quietly and drinking herself to sleep where no one could watch. Sky had her own troubles and trauma that she wasn't ready to tell this handsome stranger about, things she never planned on telling him. Sky wanted to enjoy these moments with Hríd for as long as possible.