Owned by: Catherine Fisher

Warning: slight J/K

Dauntless Pluck

1: Skapti's Kantele

Summary: Jessa and Kari give Skapti the one thing he thought he'd never see again.

The tall skald known as Skapti leaned against the tall tree in the forest. It had only been two days since he and his friends had returned from their journey to the ends of the earth to rescue Signi's soul and save the others in Jarlshold.

"How could you?" Jessa asked gently.

"No choice. We had to get warm." He smiled wanly at the burning wood of the kantele.

In sacrificing his minstrelling instrument, he had saved his friends from freezing to death, yet he still missed it dearly. He hadn't the heart to look for a new one, either; he had grown accustomed to his old kantele, and replacing it seemed wrong to him.

Like replacing a friend, he thought, and closed his eyes, letting ideas for new songs flood his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cough, and he looked up to see Jessa and Kari standing over him. Jessa had her hands behind her back, a mischievous glint in both her and Kari's eyes. They exchanged glances, and Skapti bent his head down again, a smile on his face.

"What trouble are you getting yourselves into now? Surely it must be something big."

"No," the pale boy replied, "we've gotten you a gift."

"I've already told you, I don't want a new kantele! It-"Skapti stopped, seeing a wide grin spread on Jessa's face.

She carefully pulled her first hand out from behind her back, empty. She pulled the second one out, too, but in it was something the wiry skald hadn't dreamt of seeing.

"My kantele!" He cried, and Jessa handed it to him. He stood, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and lips twisted in a foolish grin.

"We noticed how sad you were, so Kari sent the ravens to see if there was anything left. He did the rest." Jessa said, and Kari nodded shyly.

"Well I thank you both. There will most definitely be a tale of Kari Ragnarsson and Jessa Horolfsdaughter. Perhaps a courageous tale of love?" He laughed, seeing heat rise to Jessa's cheeks, and Kari's face turn a faint pink.

He left them there, his kantele under his arm, making his way to the entrance of the Jarlshold.