InsaneJournal

This time you see - like holy water
Who: Leif & Linnea
Where: Niemi household
When: Late afternoon/early evening

Miakoda truly hated being transported inside the car. They both knew she was more than capable of following it, but for some reason Leif was uneasy. So the hawk had humoured his demand and done as she was told, making sure to shriek down his ear every time the car took a sharp turn and jolted her too much.

‘Birds were not meant to travel in these things.’

“Stop complaining.” He shot a glare at her via the rear view mirror. “And stop that hissing, it’s childish.” Lacking sleep, he was in a bad enough mood without her harping on about insignificant details that would be over with in a minute. Ideally he would have waited until he was less inclined to curse the next humanoid he saw before even considering approaching the Niemi household. But there were things that had been in Jokull’s possession that now did not belong around people who didn’t know or understand what they were for. He was, of course, assuming his father’s office had remained largely untouched. Despite speculation that at least Kajsa probably tried burning any of his belongings, none of them had the nerve to disturb Jokull Niemi’s belongings. Least of all Linnea. Fingers crossed the Pitbull isn’t home. Which was about all Kajsa was good for. Hissing and spitting at unwanted visitors. Satu was more dangerous. Trying to banish thoughts of his littlest sister biting people’s ankles, Leif pulled into the drive with a vague smirk. It had faded by the time he reached the door. Miakoda flexed her talons against his shoulder as he knocked. ‘She’s not going to like this. You should have called.’

Linnea was having a good day. It had started with a swim in the lake and currently she was content to lounge on the couch with a book her brother had sent her from back home, fingers of one hand idly trailing through one of her smaller fountains. Now that people knew of the existence of water elemental's there was no doubting that the Niemi's were, or at least the majority of them now that Jokull was gone. How ironic that the children she had had by him would be the water elemental's while the others were not. And so what will that make you? A question that would have to wait for quite awhile before she would get any sort of an answer. Linnea was not going to let herself worry about something like that when she had larger concerns. Her grown and semi-grown children for instance. Bradley. The ghost of the husband she had had killed... yes, there were just a few things to occupy her mind. And she was thinking of none of them thanks to this story about Gustave being trapped thanks to an avalanche.

Her day of peace was shaken when Strike lifted his head from under his heat lamp, flicking his tongue at the air to relay the message that there was a visitor a moment before Linnea heard the knock for herself. Folding the top of the page to mark her place she stood, brushing her clothes before going to the door. Her breath caught for a moment, her heart stopping before racing when she saw her eldest on the other side. One could not call Leif any sort of a child anymore and she had not thought of him as one since he decided to remain at boarding school instead of coming to Scarlet Oak like Kajsa. But he was still... more Jokull's than hers. Always. "Hello, Leif. Please come in. Can I get you anything to drink, perhaps some dinner?" With any of her other children had she gone more than a week without seeing them she would have had them wrapped in a hug and halfway to the kitchen by now. Not Leif. Oh, she wanted to hug him as she always did and there was a shiver of regret at how cold his face was. Her first mistake had been letting Jokull get his claws into him. "Have you been well? Dagmar said you were by a few days ago, I wish you would have said hello." Dagmar and Kajsa who were currently out having some sisterly bonding or something to that effect, Linnea had heard Dagmar saying something about it much earlier.

“No, thank you, I’ve eaten.” A lie, but hardly an unexpected one. Really, why would he come here to eat when he had a perfectly functioning kitchen at home? And there was always take-out. In fact, why would he come here at all unless he had a very specific reason to do so? “I’ve been better,” he shrugged, “and I’ve been worse.” He smirked inwardly at the mention of Dagmar. Somehow it felt like a victory that he should be continuing dealings his father had started, and right under Linnea’s nose. On Niemi property, no less. This property was no less his father’s, dead or not. “I would have done--” But why would I want to? “--but I had business to attend to. Someone was caught giving out personal information at work.” That he had already dealt with it by the time he found Dagmar was irrelevant. Flashing a brief smile that was inherently warm on the surface only, he gestured in the general direction of Jokull’s office. “We came to take a few things off your hands.” Mia clacked her beak in greeting. “Unless, of course, you’re busy. I can always come back another time.” With or without an invitation, and illegally if he had to. It was entirely up to her.

’I think that he’s lying to you,’ Strike imparted in his dry voice, somehow having slithered off of his perch to wind his way up along Linnea leg until she leaned down to help him the rest of the way to her shoulder. As he always did when he thought that their might be the slightest threat - or just when he felt like it - Strike looped himself around Linnea’s neck and affixed his glance on her eldest son. ’Why do you keep letting him into the house? It’s obvious that this particular hatchling has no regard for you whatsoever and if he had fangs he would bite you..’ No matter what Linnea said, Strike still regarded her children as hatchlings and consistently wondered why she did not just have them all at once and be done with it. “Are you sure? I have some strawberry licorice in the kitchen.” One of those things that she kept around purely by force of habit since she had no fondness for the treat, but she knew that Leif liked it. Just like she knew that Dagmar’s favorite was anything with chocolate in it while Kajsa never passed up Bailey’s ice cream. Apparently it was a mother thing. Hesitation did settle onto her features when she saw where Leif had motioned. The office. But he can’t go in there. Strike countered with something about how it would serve him right to get a headache. He is my son, stop that. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Leif.”

‘It’s a defensive little worm, isn’t it?’ Leif nearly turned to see if Miakoda had somehow hit her head. She was usually fairly respectful of other familiars and defensive regarding his family. Why she was choosing now to look down at Strike with a superiority that he could actually feel was beyond his understanding. I didn’t think you took issue with him. She shook her head, ruffling the feathers about her neck before settling again. ‘I don’t. He’s just defensive.’ That time he did give her a strange look. Even he didn’t consider Strike to be a worm -- merely unfortunate enough to be attached to his mother. “Really?” Alright, that caught him off-guard and the surprise showed. He had had a weakness for strawberry licorice for as long as he could remember. An oddity, since otherwise he didn’t have a sweet tooth at all. His gut reaction was to ask why -- it had always been his Achilles’ heel, unless one of the others had developed a fondness for it as well. He knew she didn’t eat it. ‘Maybe Strike does.’ A statement that came with a childish tone of amusement that he was ignoring. Perhaps just a-- “Alright, then. If you’re sure.” She wasn’t sure about the office though, unless there was something scandalous between the office and where he was stood, because otherwise they both knew he would have interest in none of the other rooms. The statement had been marked with his name too. He wondered if Linnea actually realised how easy she could be to read. Visually, at any rate. Her mind was quiet -- which he had been grateful for when he was younger and possessed even less control over his telepathy. Now he just found it irritating. “I’m afraid it’s a necessary evil.” Given how the rest of the family viewed his practices, the pun was intended.

Strike had no idea whatsoever that he was being talked about and even if he had known then he would not have been bothered. Leif was one of his elemental’s hatchlings and therefore he could think whatever he wanted about him and his familiar. Which may not have made sense to anyone else - Linnea included - but the snake had never needed to worry about making sense before and he was not going to start now. Linnea could work her way around what he thought and said and no one else actually mattered. Maybe Kajsa, he liked Kajsa. Linnea’s smiled was warm as she turned towards the kitchen, glad that she had even such a little thing to catch her son’s attention. “Of course I’m sure.” And there it was, kept in the cabinet along with a package of Dove chocolate and a box of teddy grahams that Satu never admitted to eating but somehow they always ran out when she was around. Reaching up for the container she pulled it down and opened the package before offering it to Leif. At the statement at how it was a necessary evil she froze. He can’t know that Jokull’s a ghost, he can’t. He’s not a medium. Telepath, yes, but not a medium. “Why do you want to go into your father’s office? He only used it on the weekends he was here and that was hardly at all. It’s technically Kajsa’s office now, anyway.” That was not going to make him happy.

It was interesting how both Leif and his familiar eyed their apparent counterparts with the same vague disdain that was temporarily colouring their usual opinion. Or perhaps it was to be expected. Of course, Leif’s expression lifted the moment he knew she was looking at him again. He didn’t care whether or not the snake had noticed. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Mia’s mood had shifted between the car and the door. She had hated the car, but she had lightened up once free again. The presence of another familiar perhaps. She wasn’t especially fond of the siren’s butterfly either. ‘But her familiar is lunch for chicklets and spiders.’ His eyebrow raised at that comment. One had to wonder how the floating blue trinket had felt about Arich. Memories of his father’s familiar -- a strange creature, but then you got what you were given -- were brushed aside. He still couldn’t quite believe she had strawberry licorice. Again, the word ‘why’ perched itself on the tip of his tongue, but he ignored it. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It wasn’t in his nature to simply take it at face value that she was his mother and knew what he liked to eat. ‘You remember she is not demonic. She does not think like you.’ His familiar’s capacity for defending those who neither needed nor even really deserved defending baffled Leif. I was well aware of that, but thank you for the unnecessary reminder. Even as he claimed several sticks -- she did offer them -- and voiced thanks out of pure habit, he was trying to pin a motive to it. ‘Just because’ was not on the list of options. Kajsa’s office? Mia shifted, talons flexing as she tried not to react to the slow burn of outrage that lay somewhere behind Leif’s mask. “I may have been an absent child,” he refused to give Kajsa verbal acknowledgement, “But I still know where father kept the good stuff.” With an almost apologetic shrug, he ignored any previous suggestions and headed to the office anyway. For starters, he wanted to see her reaction. Secondly, if Kajsa could invade his father’s space, he could damn well invade hers.

Had Leif gone ahead and asked why Linnea had strawberry licorice when it had never been a favorite of hers or any of the others then she would have told him the truth. She had them in case he came by so that he could have some. No matter what Leif thought she still viewed him as her son because he was. Yes, there had been mistakes when he was growing up, but she could not be blamed for all of them. It was rather impossible to be the mother that she had wanted to be when Jokull was there watching everything and ensuring that she did not ‘taint’ his firstborn son with her ways. Which Leif probably did not really know but Linnea saw no reason to tell him. It would change nothing this late in life and it would have just been cruel when he was younger. ’You shouldn’t worry about it, you worry about things too much without adding this on - for the love of everything, did you teach none of your children how to listen?’ Strike tightened his coil slightly, scales rasping against the skin on Linnea’s neck as his tail rattled and he broadcast his thoughts. ’Don’t you know how to listen, hatchling? Your mother told you that you shouldn’t do that and guess what? It means you shouldn’t do it!’ Linnea hushed her familiar with a quick motion before starting after Leif, worry painted on her features. Those with demonic blood should not enter a blessed room and while she was certain that the ward was serving its purpose she had never intended for any of her children to encounter it. “Please, Leif, tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you myself. You can have it, just don’t go in there.” Please.

Strike’s input only curved Leif’s lips into a sneer. “I was taught to think for myself,” he called over his shoulder, glancing up as Mia chose to follow at her own pace. She always had to be above everyone else. ‘There is a reason they call it a birds-eye view,’ she pointed out before publicising her thoughts. ‘Perhaps you should act on your mother’s advice rather than just registering what has been said.’ “Which part of thinking for myself did you misunderstand?” He fixed a glare on the hawk before stopping, only just noticeably exasperated by the fuss this was causing, to turn on Linnea with a look that questioned whether she’d been at Dagmar’s stash. “I could tell you what I need,” he began, eyebrow arching, “But you wouldn’t know where it was or what it looked like.” And then, after a moment. “You definitely wouldn’t want to know what it did.” He felt a tremor of disapproval from Miakoda. Yes, the last part had been purely for effect. But she was annoying him. Going into a room was hardly a-- “What’s in there?” He started walking again. She really wasn’t thrilled about this, was she? “What’s in there that you don’t want me to see?” Because there was no other reason that he could think of that would give her reason to keep him out. Stopping outside, he decided he’d give her a moment to explain herself before walking in regardless. Instead of the expectant stare he would have given out of sheer force of habit, Leif found himself staring at the door, brow furrowed in confusion. Something was... not right.

’You know, your hatchlings? Normally they’re fine but something went wrong with that one.’ Linnea did not need to hear that. She knew exactly what had gone wrong, well for the most part, and she did not want to discuss it. That meant thinking about it a little too much for her comfort and she had something else to focus on. Not letting Leif into his father’s office despite the fact that he was determined to do just exactly that. And how was she supposed to stop him? “Thank you, Miakoda,” Linnea murmured gratefully to the hawk. At least her son’s familiar seemed to have some semblance of reason. He should really go ahead and listen to her now and again, probably like his conscious. “There’s nothing in there that I don’t want you to see,” Linnea admitted. You could not see a blessing, or at least she had not been able to see any difference in the room. “I just don’t want you in there. It’s...” For some reason she really, really did not want to have to tell him what she had done. With Jokull gone that made him the technical head of the family and Linnea had had it bred into her that she was supposed to obey the head no matter the age. It was frustrating and she knew that she was perhaps one step away from having tears sting her eyes. “Blessed.”

‘Blessed?’ While his familiar was quite openly disbelieving, addressing Linnea directly, Leif knew. He knew the moment he stopped in front of the door that something significant was bothering him. “When Dagmar and Satu leave home, are you going to bless their rooms too?” He sounded almost curious, staring at the wooden fixture in front of him like it was going to change anything. There was a cold lead lining in his stomach and it was spreading. “You do realise,” he began, words lacing with ice as he turned the handle, “that demonic occupants do not... taint a room.” If they did, this whole house was damned to hell. ‘You can’t go in there.’ No, he could and he would. Even though just considering it was stripping his temper bare. One hand swept across the threshold, fingers curling as though he expected to find something tangible to drag out. Something to-- “So much for your children’s welfare, mother. Do the others--” He had to silence himself before his voice betrayed just how much entering the office was actually effecting him. Any form of mask had been shattered, and for a moment it was all Leif could do to stand and stare in open revulsion while Mia hissed her own opinion. She could feel it. “Kaj really that desperate to keep her sisters out?” he spat, turning on the spot mindlessly. He needed the right fucking cabinet. “Or were you worried they might rub off on her?” Hesitating before he could bring himself to actually touch any of the furniture, he flinched as his familiar alighted on his shoulder again. It was a pointless gesture, since she couldn’t actually change the state of the room, but nevertheless.

‘Do your daughters know?’ That note of accusation was from Leif, voiced by Miakoda, though she had to agree that if the room would have this effect on them too, they ought to know.

That was not it at all. Linnea shook her head and bit at her lip. She was good at letting things wash over her, there was not a person in the world better at it so far as she was aware, but this was seeping in. There was accusation there of her having done something that would cause her children harm when the goal was the opposite. The office was a place that no one except Kajsa would go and since it had been Jokull’s and where that thing with the broken frame slicing her face open had happened there seemed little else. She did not want a poltergeist in there when her daughter was trying to work, and the same principle stood for her room. There was nothing to do for the others but she did not think Jokull had a reason to harm them. “I know that,” Linnea said at last, her defenses snapping into place as her spine straightened and her face chilled, like it had been frozen. Strike’s tail rattled and he reared his head up in response to the tone and the feeling of ice that had settled over his elemental. He did not like that feeling at all. “And Kajsa didn’t do it, I did. After a presence attacked me. I don’t want it harming her and I didn’t anticipate there would be any need for you to enter this room. I assumed that if there was a thing you wanted you would have gotten it last time you were here.” Her eyes flicked to the hawk. “They know not to come in here, not that they ever have. They don’t like this room.” None of them did, herself included. Seeing the effect that the room had on Leif trembled her but the ice was not melting. “They don’t need to know what happened.”

’You don’t need to either, for that matter,’ Strike added in. ’You should’ve listened to her, hatchling.’

A presence. Leaning on the side, Leif gave a short bark of mirthless laughter. A presence? Fuck, she was a piece of work. Taking Strike’s rattle as a challenge, Miakoda issued a piercing cry in response. She was unimpressed. “Kajsa wouldn’t have the foresight to do this if a poltergeist floored her with a headstone bearing her name.” His voice wavered, his focus shifting between what he was looking for and what he wanted. Pain was building behind his eyes, spreading to his temples. Jarring drawers and cupboards open with unnecessary force, he rifled through them with a furious impatience. “And what did happen, Linnea?” Her familiar had become a nonentity. “Because, really, I’m interested. Just how did you happen to choose the one room in the house that--Motherfucker.” Recoiling from the cupboard in obvious pain, Leif carried one of his father’s books in one hand, a broken blade embedded in the palm of the other. The sting was oddly grounding, and the blade was one he recognised. He stood, without moving, just staring at the injury. It was going to need stitches. He could do that himself. A small part of him was filling with an anxiety he hadn’t felt since he was significantly younger. He was bleeding on his father’s floor. Staining the surface with what could easily be put to use. Instead of rushing to clean it away -- hide the mistake -- he tilted his hand to let the blood spill. Only a small amount but he could fix that. Removing foreign objects from the human body always seemed to caused more damage than the original injury.

“Because this is the one room in the house where your father’s ghost did me harm,” Linnea snapped back. Strike’s rattle fell silent. She felt the presence elsewhere, most especially when she was alone or preparing for bed or just upon waking, but it was here that the glass had flown and spilled her blood onto... the floor. Shaking her head she looked at the floor again, ignoring the cursing that her son was doing and the fact that he had called her by her name, because there was blood on the floor just where hers had spilled. But she had scrubbed it and that had been days ago and it could not be fresh... oh. Her eyes went up and she saw that Leif was bleeding on the floor and an expression of pain was twisting his face. The face she had been trying so hard to not look at. Even though he was swearing at her and even though he was always striving to be like Jokull, Linnea could not stand the sight of him in pain. ’He’s a blood witch, Linnea, he shouldn’t be doing that. He could do a spell, he could ruin what you’ve done.’ Linnea was not thinking about it. Whatever ice had been going through her blood was thawing out at the sight of him like that. “Leif, come out of there, you’re hurting yourself and bleeding all over the floor.”

If it wasn’t for the fact he was concentrating on getting the blade out of his hand in a manner that would not leave the wound to begin closing up right away, Leif might have laughed at that request. As it stood, his mind had hooked onto the word ‘ghost’. After that, there really was only one viable course of action to take. It was true enough that the room was causing him discomfort. It was causing outright pain, and if he could have shared it with her he would have. He was going to have a headache for days, but he was willing to endure that much for what he was about to do. It wasn’t just that she had given his father’s office to Kajsa. She had blessed -- blessed -- a room in what had always been a primarily demonic household. She could see what it was doing to him, and the only reason he had not thrown himself back out of the room yet was because he was fixated on undoing this. This was a danger to his sisters. Kajsa could drown in the family pool for all he cared -- and he sincerely hoped she would. With the blade out of his hand, Leif cast it to the floor, closed his fist and squeezed. Clearly he had overestimated her intelligence, since she seemed concerned only for his health rather than what was actually happening in front of her. “Father’s ghost,” he repeated, finally looking up. “Sorry, were you looking for the sympathy vote?” The right muttered words and the room wasn’t just desecrated, it was outright damned. With the pain in his head fading and the weight lifted from his gut, he took a deep breath and seized the opportunity to grab what he had originally come for. “Any other rooms that need fixing while I’m here?” If ‘Kajsa’s office’ had been blessed, he was willing to bet her room was too. Because dad wants the bastard gone too.

’Blood witch.’ Strike reminded Linnea, tightening again.

Son first. Ridiculous thing for her to worry about, she should have grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and found a way to toss him out of the house. “I have never asked for sympathy from any of you,” Linnea replied. Despite the painful thudding in her heart and the desire she felt for this thing to not be happening there was nothing she could do. There was never anything that she could do in the face of magic. She had never learned magic to combat it and somewhere along the line, Jokull had instilled a fear of it deep in her subconscious. The water elemental stepped right out of the room and reached for the nearest fountain. It was too far away but the water curled out of it and flowed across the floor to her, soaking her jeans as it moved up to gather around her hands, a sort of protective, soothing barrier against what was happening. It’s alright, her element soothed her, keeping the ice flowing because without it there would have been tears. You’re not hurt. Yet. “If there are then that is no concern of yours, Leif Niemi. I don’t care how old you are or what you can do with your blood because of your father this isn’t his house and it isn’t yours. You may have more of his values than mine but you will respect that or I will slide you out of here so fast you’ll feel like a child getting pulled by his ear for cursing a classmate again.” Strike murmured words of encouragement and her eyes flashed, a rarity but easier to do when it was Leif stood in front of her and not Jokull. He had never mastered his element and Linnea had been taking comfort in it for decades, there was likely nothing she could not do. “You are still my son and you are welcome in this house but it’s not yours to do as you please with and your father’s will is no longer done here.” Oh, her throat was burning and her limbs were starting to shake ever so slightly. Defiance of any sort was not Linnea’s cup of tea and at the back of her mind there was a babbling insisting that she was going to regret this, oh was she going to regret it. ’He’s not here and he can’t do that. Stop shaking, you’re doing so well, I’m proud of you.’ Still stood there with her arms encased in a moving second skin of water, Linnea sighed it all away. It was done, she could not undo it, she had no talent for that. “You’ll never forgive me.” A statement more than a question.

Leif’s blood stirred. His age may not have been an issue with her, but she did care about the practices Jokull had taught him, along with his bloodline. Because if anything, they frightened her. He could live with that knowledge fairly easily. Casting his eyes to the ceiling, he considered Kajsa’s room. He didn’t know which it was, but given that it was likely to be blessed, it would be easy enough to find out. “If this isn’t father’s house,” he said slowly, “Then why is he still here?” Stepping out of the office, carrying the reclaimed items under one arm, he glanced at Linnea’s sodden jeans. Leif did not fear his mother’s mastery. Ice was a bitch, but he was still a water elemental. Her little fluid shield did not faze him, nor did the idea of being thrown out of the house. He wasn’t supposed to be in this area at all, if the otter boy was to be believed. Father’s will. “Then what would you call that?” He raised his injured hand. “Or did you think I was merely trying to get rid of a headache?” The headache that had not yet vanished and was going to whittle away at his patience for the next few days. “Next time you see fit to pollute your home, tell my sisters. I’d hate to think what that would have done to Satu.” It wasn’t as much a display of concern as an accusation of sheer negligence. In truth, the result would have been the same, but his sister would have never stepped foot over the threshold. No, Leif would not be forgiving Linnea. It wasn’t in his nature. But regardless of what Dagmar believed, he did not hate his mother. That required an emotional investment that, to his recollection, he had never had. He looked at Linnea and all he saw was weakness. That was something to be pitied, not hated. It was almost a shame he did not do the former, either. “For which part?” Because, if he really cared to try, he was certain he could reel off a whole list of unforgiven crimes.

Why indeed? Linnea knew, deep down, that he was there because of what she had had done to him. Or maybe he would have come back no matter how he had died because of that deep hatred he held for so many things. Souls that unsettled could not move on. “Oh, please, you’re intelligent enough to know the answer for that yourself. He had no attachment to this house, he’s here to carry on as he did in life.” To make sure that Linnea was still afraid of what would happen to her and her children. Leif was a living example of exactly what she had never wanted her children to be, everything that Jokull had wanted. Later, that remark about what it would have done to Satu would find home and sting, but then it just slip off of her exterior like a droplet of water. ’I don’t like you like this. Make him go away so you’ll be you again.’ It was done to protect her and Kajsa, potentially even Valterri, from Jokull. Hell, he might even be so crazy after death that he would do harm to his own daughters as well, god knew he had harmed Dagmar in life. “I already told you, they knew not to come here and unlike you, they listen. As for forgiveness, I know you won’t, I wasn’t asking for it.” He was Jokull’s son and Jokull had never forgave anyone for anything, least of all her for being born and tied to him. One water-encased hand went up to smooth back a piece of her hair, the water dancing back so as not to soak it. “One day it would be nice if I could look at my son without seeing contempt in his eyes.” ’Giving him ammunition.’ “I was too young to raise you properly-” -to defend you from him. “-and if I ever thought I should be forgiven for something then it’s the mistakes I made when you were a child.” ’This isn’t a hatchling who cares, Linnea.’

“As head of the house.” Face twisting into a smirk, Leif had to admit he was finding this perhaps a little too entertaining. His bloodied hand patted down his pocket in search of the licorice, biting the end off the first stick he found. “We do wear hate well, don’t we?” His father was dead and nothing had changed. ‘Most want their deceased to cross over.’ The familiar went ignored. If Jokull wanted his household back, by all means, he could have it. Unlike the rest of the family, Leif had never had a problem with how he had behaved in life, but then he had not felt as much a member of a family since he went to boarding school. Thirteen years of varying degrees of separation altered one’s perspective. “They listen when you’re around, anyway.” The rest of the licorice stick disappeared into his mouth and he poked at the gash on his palm. He didn’t feel like pointing out that when her back was turned, Dagmar was stoned and conveniently compliant when it came to selling her blood. “And you can never prepare for every eventuality.” As he believed he had just proven. Part of Leif considered defending himself and his apparent -- evident -- contempt. He wondered how many times his father had caught him without the same look in his eye. The contempt was always there in the absence of a mask, it just wasn’t necessarily aimed at who he was talking to. “Mistakes you made,” he highlighted the phrase with a note of satisfaction. Not his father’s mistakes. Hers. The rest had fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps she needed to spend more time with Valterri. ‘I think we should leave. You have what you came for.’ And then some. Pulling his face into something resembling a genuine smile, he nodded at his familiar’s remark. “So I’ll be out of your way, then.”

All Linnea needed to know was that they listened. At least part of the time. Part of the time was better than never. Granted, there was a part of her that knew very well what her middle child engaged in just as there had been a part that knew what her eldest daughter was. Mother’s intuition was good for that sort of thing and hers never failed her. She just had a terrible habit of pretending it was not there unless she had to because, up until a few weeks ago, there had always been bigger things to concern herself with. Like their safety in general and ensuring that Jokull was not going to outright kill her. None of which matter to Leif because the only danger that had ever been presented to him was becoming Jokull and the boy had embraced that fate with open arms. ’No, they weren’t your mistakes. Blood bound you and then he made you do it.’ Linnea’s choice would not have been to have a child when she was that young, she did not know anyone who would actually want to do that. Too risky for the woman and the child. “You know that’s not all true,” Linnea remarked quietly. He was an intelligent boy and he had eyes and ears, whether or not he had chosen to use them was not her doing. Some things were her fault, yes, but not near as many as she suspected she was blamed for. “And you’re never in my way though right now you’re being bothersome. Have a good evening, Leif.” ’You say that after he goes and damns a room with his blood? Forgiveness may be a virtue but you shouldn’t drown yourself in it.’ She was not, she was letting the ice remain while water soothed everything else. Impossible to be angry.

‘At least some of it is to be blamed on Ka--’ A snap of cold fury and the jarring of Leif’s shoulder knocked the rest of that thought to silence before Mia broadcasted it to Linnea. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe she wouldn’t fill in those missing syllables herself, or that it wasn’t necessarily true. It just did not need to be said, telepathically or otherwise and his familiar had no business sharing it. When it came to his father, Leif had always had incredibly selective observation. It wasn’t something he noticed; the chances of him having learned to simply not see certain events around him at too early an age for recollection were high. His telepathy was arguably stunted at best, but thanks to his father’s... care he had not -- possibly even could not -- pick up on his thoughts. When he was close enough, there was a presence of Jokull in his head. A steady hum in the background, but nothing more. Something that had only grown louder and, if anything, comforting as he grew older. Now even that was gone. For one childish, fleeting moment he was tempted to prove her wrong and put himself in her way, but the squeeze of talons on his shoulder warned him against it. “Right,” he steered himself towards the front door, only just choosing to dwell on the fact that his father was both dead and earthbound. He flashed a smile over his unburdened shoulder, “I trust you’ll sleep well tonight.” He was. Once he had sutured the hand that was now bleeding on his car keys.

Linnea nodded. “I always sleep well.” A lie. With Jokull alive she had not slept well for fear that he might arrive at any moment for this or that and with him dead she was half-convinced he was always there. Perhaps if Bradley were over... or if Kajsa were not always gone. Linnea had always been the sort to take comfort from sharing a bed with one of her daughters and none of them had ever seemed to mind. It was comforting for her, and a sort of shield against her now-dead husband. “Have a good night.” The ice held out until he was gone but then it melted like it had never been, the water flowing back to the fountain as though she had ordered it to do so and she was leaning against the wall. ’I don’t know why you try with that one,’ Strike voiced his rather unwelcome input. ’He’s all his father’s.’ Which was the very reason that Linnea felt as though she had to try. He was his father’s because she had not tried hard enough when he was little and had allowed herself to be distracted almost completely from the child Jokull all-but labeled ‘mine’ by Kajsa. ’You should get back in the pool.’ “I should.” Instead she went to her bed, curling up in the middle with one hand over her stomach. Stress was not conducive to her state, no matter how early it was. ’I could bi-’ “All of life’s answers are not solved by poisoning the problem, Strike.” ’Should be.’