90 Meeting The Family

Frey clutched at the book, wanting to throw it into the river, but knowing it was too expensive to do so. With no other choice, he stuffed it into his spatial ring and headed back to his old house. The flower fields, having been expanded, were closer to the mansion but the flowers were still the same. From what Gwen told him, they alternated in patterns of colors for coordination. He followed the pattern, looking for a row of white roses at the end. He kept walking but never found them. He instead found a row of blue ones next to the road back, right where the white flowers usually were. He followed the gravel path down which eventually lead to his old house.

A permanent grin was stuck on his face, but he stood outside, rubbing his chin. The old broken-down house didn't look so old anymore. The windows had been repaired along with some of the holes in the roof that Frey had long ago promised Gwen he would fix. He must have stood out there for a long time because the door burst open and Gwen ran into his arms.

"Gwen," Frey said as he returned the hug. "I've missed you." After they separated, he gazed at her working limbs. "Did you get healed? When did this happen?"

Gwen's smile was brighter than the sun. Her formerly frizzled hair was now straight as it blew around her face. She danced around: "A few months after you left. The elixirs were helpful. I've missed you so much." She gave him another quick hug and then pouted: "You left me fallen in the dirt. You could have at least picked me up."

"I'm sorry," Frey's expression didn't change although he winced at the memory. "I was afraid if I turned back, I would never leave. Come on, let's go inside." He stepped towards his house but Gwen tugged on his sleeve.

"Actually, let's stay out here for a bit." Gwen blushed as her smile slightly faded. "You were gone for a long time. Since you can't read and I didn't know where to send the letters, I never got to tell you." She hid part of her face behind her hair.

"Dear," A voice called out from inside the house. "Where's the…" A man's head peeked from the doorway and sent a glare towards Frey. His short brown hair looked to have recently been cut. His skinny face looked not a day over twenty. He was shorter than Frey, even though he stood on top of the step. "Who's this?"

"I should be asking the same thing." Frey stood a little straighter, trying to step in front of Gwen.

Gwen walked between them. "Owen, this is my brother Frey. Frey, meet my…husband."

"Brother?" Owen stepped out of the house, allowing Frey to see a bundle of rags with a small lifeform in his arms.

"Baby?" Frey had to take a step back, looking from a blushing Gwen to Owen, then to his brand-new nephew, then fainted.

…

"Frey," Gwen shook Frey awake. He got off the gravel road, still in a daze.

"Oh is right," Gwen pulled him closer to the house. He could feel her slightly trembling. "Come inside and we'll all eat." Frey was unsure what to do as he passed Owen, who seemed as shocked as he was. Gwen sat them at the table and put the baby in an old baby seat that had been in the house when they moved in. "I'll be right back with the food." She left the three of them, alone in a pit of awkwardness and silence. Frey glared at Owen, who smiled and tapped his feet around, not daring to meet Frey's glare.

"S-So," Owen said, his head still downcast. "Gwen's told me much about you."

"Probably because she idolizes me." Frey growled. "When did the two of you meet?" He did his best to sit up straight and dwarf Owen, which wasn't hard. He smirked.

Owen stuttered: "R-Right after you left. Lord Virility ordered me to look after h-her and satisfy h-h-h…help her when she needs it." He looked down even more. Frey followed his gaze to the wooden ring on his finger. Owen retracted his hand and hid it in his pocket. "Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Frey leaned closer, letting his shadow block the light from reaching Owen's face. "Do you do something wrong to her or me?" Owen shook his head.

"Nope. Nothing wrong here." Owen shook his arms around and chuckled. The baby seemed to like this. It giggled. Owen scrunched his nose at it. "Of course you would like it, Arte."

"Arte?" Frey's demeanor cracked. "You named him after our grandfather?"

"Oh no," Owen seemed to regain his confidence as he let Arte play with his hand. "Gwen named him. She didn't even let me get a word in even during childbirth. The doctor was astounded by her resilience."

As if on que, Gwen walked in with three bowls. She set them down, lifted her shirt, and breast fed Arte. Frey looked away as he slurped at his soup. "Gwen, you've gotten better at cooking."

The outsider responded: "Thanks, it's my family's recipe." Frey couldn't turn to glare at him so he just kept slurping at it. When he heard Gwen flip her shirt back down, he turned to see Owen stand up and pick Arte up, who was beginning to cry. "I'll put him to sleep. You two should get a chance to talk." He left as fast as his two chicken legs could carry him. Gwen's smile was a needle in Frey's eye.

"He's a cook?" Frey asked, his demeanor darkening by the second.

"Yes," Gwen's smile faded a little. "And he's taken good care of me in this past year, even though I wasn't always good back to him." She laid her face on the table and yawned. "And Arte's been a handful, always crying in the middle of the night. If not for the baby things the previous owners left behind, I would have probably lost my sanity by now."

Frey's hands curled up. "In just a year, so much has changed. Has it really been that long?"

"Maybe it was short for you," Gwen shot.

"What does that mean?" Frey looked at his sister, his same old sister that was now sitting up by herself and supporting a baby.

She sat upright with her shoulders broad. An air of femininity mixed with her dominant stare. She looked at him as if she was looking at a faraway place. "I was lonely. Every day I just picked at the roses then returned to an empty house. I just wallowed in the dark without a care in the world. Sometimes I forgot to eat or drink. Owen forced me to keep going. You left."

"That's not fair." Frey shot back. "I had no choice but to follow the lord's wishes. Owen took care of you because I was away."

"So I always need to be taken care of?" Gwen didn't have a weapon but Frey winced. "I relied on you too much. It took separation for me to stand on my own two legs. With you, I was never allowed to be by myself. Owen filled a gap that you left without being overprotective or looking down at me. He was there for me. You weren't, just like mom and dad."

Frey stood up: "That's not it and you know it. You were stuck in a state of shock. You had to be taken care of at every hour of every day by me, your little brother. Even when you got pricked, I was there. Don't lump me with our parents, ever."

Gwen bowed her head. "I'm sorry, that was too far. But still, I need some space from now on. I want to be my own person. I've grown over this past year, just as you have."

'What's happened to her? Did Owen do this?' Frey looked her from head to toe, finding nothing different about her physically. "How can someone like that support you? He's just a cook. What if something happens?" He circled around the table. Instead of backing away, she got close to him.

"Then you'll be there, won't you?" It was like she held a dagger to his throat. Frey found it hard to breath, and when he did, it fogged up the steel. He could smell his own rancid breath. He swallowed, taking both joy and fear at his sister's confidence. He took a step back. She took a step forward as if pressing the blade into his skin.

"Yes," Frey said, as if begging for his life. "I'll be there for you and protect you…and everyone else. I promise." A knock at the door distracted her enough for him to step away. "I'll go see who that is." He hurried over to the door and swung it open to find an old maid with a book under her arm.

"Hello, I'm your new tutor, Liz" She curtsied. "I usually teach Thomas but now it seems you require my services for literacy, is that correct?"

Before he could respond, Gwen rounded the corner and asked, "Why are you learning how to read?"

"Because I'm not staying." Frey didn't dare to turn around, afraid that Gwen would mutilate him with her stare that drilled into the back of his head.

"You're not staying?" Even more painful than the dagger were those three words, said with as much betrayed trust as when their parents abandoned them. He lowered his head, hoping the ground would save him from dealing with her.

Frey walked out of the house and shut the door. "No, I'm not staying, but I'll get stronger and come back, I promise." As he recited the words, he imagined Hopi's corpse. "I'll get stronger. I have to protect you."