Chaika

With a guttural, heaving outbreath, Freija slumped forward onto the smooth pine boards of her apartment, exhausted, smiling. Seven weeks into her high-intensity home workout regime had left her stronger than ever, and she relished the endorphin release following a strenuous set, pushing herself further each time. Lying on the floor, utterly spent, but very alive, had become a common experience for Freija - but not the most glamorous, she thought to herself, as she sucked in air, filling her desperate lungs. A few minutes spent watching the frosted landscape stretching out below her window was all the recovery she needed, and, rising to her feet with feline poise and grace, she flicked on the stereo and headed to the bathroom. As the primal, animalistic cries and wails of Eivor filled the silence, Freija peeled her damp clothes from her lithe frame, leaving them in a crumpled pile on the floor, and stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes and let the soft warmth of the water soothe her muscles, as the music tugged gently on the threads of her ancestry, calling over mountains, forests, ice, forged in fire and darkness.

*

Diana checked the perfect curves of her nails once more, watching the rain run rivulets down the windows, distracted: her ability to focus on the weighty ethnomusicology textbook resting on her thighs had left her some time ago, as her mind wandered in anticipation, to the evening ahead of her. She was not anxious - but excited, and perhaps a little nervous to meet the woman whose inescapable allure had drawn her away from the sun, over water, to this land of ice and darkness: Freija.

An unlikely pairing, the two women had met for the briefest of moments at university during a conference exploring the connections between music, language, and the influence of traditional music on early cultures across the globe. And it was this shared passion for delving into the formation of cultures through music that had woven a binding cord between them, and they had made hurried promises to stay in touch, before returning to their otherwise disparate lives.

Now Diana was finally here, surrounded by the unfamiliar landscapes of Freija’s childhood - and as the wan light leaked from the sky, their first date drew ever closer.

*

Freija was used to turning heads, even in her hometown - and tonight was no different. Tall, slender, and fair, her striking pale features were framed by elaborate braidwork through her blonde hair, reaching down to her waist, her bright, grey-blue eyes adorned with delicate dark shadows. Her breath billowed out around her, leaving a trail of mist in her wake, as she tucked herself deeper below the fur lining of her coat, tall, glossy black boots cutting a path through the soft covering of snow before her. These streets she could walk in her sleep, their interwoven patterns embroidered across her memory, deep in her psyche - cold stone, ocean damp, mist and shadow.

She had left her home for several years, travelling between exotic cities, seeking music, culture, fire - her lifeblood. But like the coastal gulls that nest each year along black cliffs, Freija felt the pull of home, of her lineage, and returned, to settle.

Now, cocooned in warmth below arched stonework in her favourite restaurant, Freija glanced with only mild interest at the menu in front of her: the oddly circular window above and to her right continued to draw her attention, catching her eye. In the minutes since her arrival she had already imagined scenarios in which Diana appeared - sleek, heeled boots passing the window, a muffled conversation in the doorway following, catching her eye as she removed her gloves...

And besides, she knew the menu almost by heart.

The ancient ship timber of the door creaked slightly as it opened, permitting a small flurry of snow to enter the warm restaurant and settle on the floor, as a glamorous pair of boots descended the stairs - Diana. Freija’s breath caught in her throat as warm, dark eyes rose to meet hers, full lips smiling a ‘hello’ across the tables: Diana was an exquisite beauty, and to once again be so close to her overwhelmed Freija, as she felt her composure slipping through her hot fingers.

‘Hello, beautiful,’ Diana murmured softly into Freija’s ear, as they embraced, holding each other as precious, old friends do. Freija inhaled the exotic, earthy scent of Diana’s perfume, felt the warmth of her cheek, her soft curves pressed against her body - and felt her own body respond.

‘Hi,’ she managed to mumble, then with more confidence, ‘I want to say I’ve missed you - but it was only last night that we spoke.’

‘I know. I’ve missed what we’re yet to share - if that’s possible?’

‘Yes! I think it is. This feels like meeting an old friend, a sister - but I’m still so nervous!’ Freija blushed at her unexpected confession, smiling.

‘Shall we order something to drink?’ Diana asked kindly, as she let her coat fall from her shoulders, adding, ‘I could do with something to calm my own nerves, too.’

Freija’s thoughts slowed as she felt her pulse quicken, thick beneath her skin, taking in Diana’s beauty: her midnight-dark hair falling around her shoulders, the full curves of her waist, her thighs. She started slightly as she felt her gaze linger on Diana’s cleavage a moment too long.

‘Oh. Um...yes please! I’ll have a glass of Merlot. They have a wonderful selection of French and Italian wines here. I checked for you.’ She flashed her eyes at Diana sheepishly, searching her face for any hint or acknowledgement that she’d noticed.

Instead, Diana smiled seductively, leaning forward as she sat down, allowing Freija to take in all of her fullness. At this Freija felt colour flood her pale cheeks, but did not look away. Her eyes brightened to the soft blue-grey of a sparkling sky, and she breathed more heavily as a current filled her body, across her chest, down to her thighs.

‘Wine?’ smiled Diana coyly, enjoying the effect she was having on her date. ‘I believe we were ordering some Merlot?’

Freija held Diana’s gaze across the table, trying to slow her breathing, and nodded slightly, not taking her eyes off the beautiful woman in front of her.

The wine arrived, followed by more, as the two women sank deep into conversation, impassioned, excited, exhilarated to finally have only a table separating them. Words flowed more comfortably, and they exchanged stories, fragments of themselves, of their history, their passions, as if they had a lifetime of sharing to do.

Freija and Diana only emerged from their state of reverie as their waiter arrived at the table, asking politely if they were ready to order their meals. And in a moment of surprise, they both realised they were clutching each other’s hands across the table, leaning in towards one another - their first moment of skin to skin contact had almost escaped them, such was their immersion in each other. Looking up at the same time, neither one let go of the other, and Freija turned to the waiter, asking for a few more minutes.

‘Would you like to order a main?’ she asked, gazing intently at Diana. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Diana deferred. Then, smiling slowly back at Freija, added, ‘I am hungry now - but I’m not sure my tastes will be met here…’ Her eyes plunged deep into the grey-blue sky of Freija’s.

Freija gasped out loud, eyes wide, as she felt the cold toe of Diana’s boot gently nudge her legs apart under the table, as heat converged between her thighs.

‘Let’s head to your place, Freija.’

As they stood up to leave, Freija felt a now familiar warmth flood her body at the use of her name - on Diana’s lips it felt like a welcome home.

She was the seagull, returning to the black cliffs.