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Kissed by a Wolf

Chapter 12: Courage

Summary:

Eivor and the reader take a bath and prepare for a funeral. The reader makes some new friends.

Notes:

Thank you all for bearing with me, I'm currently spending up to 8 hours a day studying and it's really hard to get myself to write so I apologize for making you all wait so long for this chapter. The next chapter is going to be kind of an epilogue so this work is almost complete. It's probably going to be another while until I upload the last chapter.

Content warning for nudity and language, smut, talk of death, hinted abusive relationship, Eivor being a himbo

Chapter Text

Wrapped in nothing but your fur coats, you and Eivor made your way up to Valka’s hut for a bath, laughing and chasing each other through the snow, almost slipping several times. You were breathing heavily when you arrived and Eivor knocked at Valka’s door, still chuckling to herself. 

The door opened and the still sleepy, slightly confused seeress rubbed her eyes before looking both of you up and down. Then her eyes brightened with realization. 

“Oh.” The hint of a smirk was on her lips.

Eivor just gave her a grunt and put an arm around your shoulders.

“Good morning, Valka. We’re here to ask to use your bath. If you’re indisposed, we can come back later.”

Valka made a gesture as if she was swatting away invisible flies and shook her head, stepping back to invite you in. 

“No, no, it’s fine. I should be up and at the longhouse anyway, thank Freya you woke me. It was a long night.” 

You thought back to the red-haired woman, Yngvor, wailing at her dead husband’s side. Valka had probably stayed at her side all night. Eivor let you enter first before ducking through the small door frame. 

“Oh yes,” the warrior said, concern in her voice, “is Yngvor alright?”

Valka was bustling around the hut, putting on her coat, throwing a thick knitted shawl around her shoulders, and covering her head with a woolen cap before putting on the metal headdress. 

“Yngvor, right,” she muttered as she put a few things in a linen bag and hung it over her shoulder. “She was better after the ceremony. The Gods have given her new strength.”

Valka avoided both your gazes. 

“We shall say our farewells to Alfarr tonight.” She sighed. “Stay as long as you like. I will see you at dusk.”

And with that, she was out the door. You and Eivor exchanged a look, but the blonde just shrugged and took the kettle from the fire, heading out to fill it with snow. 

You had a look at Valka’s cupboard for a few herbs and essences that you wanted to add to the bath. Annoyed by your long sleeves, you let your fur coat fall to the floor. It was warm enough in the hut and you were admittedly looking forward to Eivor’s face when she came back and saw you standing there naked. 

A gasp-like noise at the door told you the moment had come faster than you had expected. You turned around grinning, but the smile froze on your face when you saw not your beautiful drengr , but Yngvor standing in the door. She was just as shocked as you were. Then, she just nodded slowly and turned to leave, visibly upset. In a flash, you had picked up your fur coat, punching your hands into the sleeves and pulling it tight around your body as you ran after her. The snow stung on the bare skin of your feet but you gritted your teeth and sprinted after the fire-haired woman, quickly catching up to her. 

You put a hand on her shoulder and she whirled around, tears in her eyes but no anger, no hatred, things you were so used to seeing in both Randvi’s and Eivor’s gaze. You swallowed hard and tried to regain control of your breathing.

“Yngvor, right?”

She nodded, not meeting your gaze. 

“It’s not what it looks like. Please just believe me, I am so sick and tired of people seeing things and making assumptions. Too many tears have been spilled in this godforsaken village because of jealousy and stupidity.”

Now her eyes were focused, wide and alert. She looked very confused and maybe even slightly offended. As was her right. But you would not stand for another tragedy.

“I am with Eivor. I was waiting for her in Valka’s hut. Valka went out looking for you, I think she is in the longhouse.” You gave an exasperated sigh. “Just trust me, alright? Valka would never do anything to hurt you. Neither would I.”

Yngvor cleared her throat.

“I do not understand half the things you just spoke of, but I believe you. Thank you for telling me. I will find Valka now.” She gave you a respectful nod and turned away, making her way down the slippery path. 

Your feet were now nothing but numb, painful stumps. Cursing and whimpering, you ran back up the path and stumbled into the warm room, leaning against the wall and squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to breathe through the pain.

“Where were you, then?” You open your eyes to see an amused Eivor sitting back against the wooden table, her coat hanging open and revealing her slender, strong body. Now it was you that was thrown off guard. You closed the door, took a few steps toward her, and pressed your cold hands to the warm skin on her sides, making her gasp. 

“Yngvor came by,” you said casually. “I told her where to find Valka.” 

Eivor squinted at you for a second, then she took your hands in hers and blew air into the hollow of her palms to warm your fingers. Her longing gaze met yours as she started kissing your fingertips. 

“I think the water should be ready,” she mumbled, and indeed, the kettle was steaming already. Eivor poured the water into the bathtub which was already half-filled and you threw in some flower petals and herbs before carefully dipping a foot into the water. It felt like tiny needles were prickling your cold skin, but you shrugged off your coat and stepped into the wooden tub. Eivor’s warm hands were on your back immediately, caressing your skin, wandering to your stomach, and coming to rest on your breasts for a moment as she placed tiny kisses on the back of your neck. You sighed and let your head fall back onto her shoulder. 

She stepped into the tub behind you and you both lowered yourselves into the water together, her legs framing yours and your back leaning against her chest. She wrapped her arms around you and pressed her forehead to the back of your head, inhaling your scent. You had caught her doing this quite a lot during the last weeks, even though you did not think she knew you had noticed. She used every opportunity to come close to you and when she did, she always inhaled deeply, nostrils widening and face softening as she took in your essence. It was something you had never known anyone else to do, but when Eivor did it, it just felt natural, real and raw, primal and poetic at the same time. You were not even sure if she did it on purpose. 

Smiling softly, you placed your hands on her gloriously thick thighs and sighed. This was your lover, your warrior. Yours alone. You stayed like that for a while, warm and dreamy, skin on skin. You were completely at peace. It felt like you were dissolving slowly, the light, sweet smell of the flower petals and the strong musk of the herbs weaving their way into your lungs and your head, the water reaching exactly the same temperature as your skin and your breath becoming one with the heavy, damp air in the room. Eivor was breathing deeply behind you, the rise of her chest against your back a reminder of how real all this was, how close you were, and what had happened last night. 

The thought of the last few hours lit a spark between your hips. You closed your eyes and wandered back between those white sheets, into Eivor’s arms, your tongues entangled and her breath hot on your face, her mouth on your stomach, her teeth in the skin of your thighs, her fingers inside you. Eivor seemed to be thinking the same, or maybe your body had given you away, because her fingers now lazily trailed down over your ribs, grazing your hips and softly stroking the inside of your thigh. You opened your legs almost unnoticeably and arched your back ever so slightly. 

Your lover kissed the silky patch of skin behind your ear before playfully nibbling on your earlobe. You sighed and turned your head to look at her. The soft daylight pouring in through the small windows and the few candles lit around the room showed Eivor in a completely different light than the low fire in her hut last night. She was sober now, well-rested and calm. And still, there was no doubt in her eyes, no nervousness or uncertainty. She was with the woman she loved, she was with you, and she wanted no one else. 

You pressed your lips against hers, gentle at first, then more demanding, and Eivor obliged. Opening her mouth for you, her tongue brushed against yours and she gently bit down on your bottom lip, tugging on it before letting go and coming back for an even fiercer kiss. Her hand was now dangerously close to your core, her fingers drawing small circles on your skin, making you want more, feel them where you needed them most, feel her fill you up again, become hers. 

She took her time inching closer until your breathing was shallow and you were just about to start whining and begging when she dipped a finger between your folds and dragged it up slowly, brushing over that delicate nub and making you buck your hips forward involuntarily. 

Eivor wrapped her flat hand around your throat and pushed your chin up so she could kiss the soft skin there while her other hand began moving up and down along your cunt, not yet diving in, still teasing but at least giving you some form of friction. You sighed and dug your fingers into her thighs, hearing her breathe in a little more sharply than usual behind you. You lightly scratched your nails along the hard muscle, all the way up to her hip, and let your hand linger on there, your thumb hooked in the crease of her thigh against her stomach, just close enough to make her fingers tremble.

She bit into your neck, maybe as punishment, maybe as encouragement, and finally, her hand sunk lower. She pushed one finger inside you effortlessly, drawing a soft moan from you as you relished in the sore, tingling feeling in your raw, swollen flesh. Eivor had almost destroyed you last night, and you had edged her on every time she slowed down. You were already looking forward to tonight, longing for her to throw you on the bed and have her way with you, split you open and tear you apart with those delicious fingers and that oh-so-skilled tongue.

A second finger slipped into you and you arched your back, pushing your shoulders back into Eivor’s chest. She was still going at an infuriatingly slow pace, refusing to touch that perfect, deep spot that always sucked you into an abyss of pleasure. You let your hand wander further down between your thighs, but she gently took your wrist and put your hand to your chest, intertwining her fingers with yours and squeezing your hand as she finally curled her fingers inside you and you let out a deep moan, whispering her name as you sank into that deep, dark place filled with overwhelming lust. You could already feel the heat build in the pit of your stomach as Eivor slowly pumped her fingers into you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me all night, again and again, screaming for me and falling apart on the tip of my tongue. I will forever carry that picture with me, you spread out for me, blushing and embarrassed but overcome by your desire for me. Your legs shaking, your lips swollen and your-”  she thrust her fingers deep inside you and your eyes rolled back into your head, your throat closing up as you choked on your moan - “beautiful, soaked cunt open and ready for me, your juices on my tongue, your hot flesh around my fingers.” 

Her hand was on your throat again and she squeezed it lightly, humming into the crook of your neck and slowly rubbing her thumb over your hard, pulsing bundle of heat while dragging her fingertips over that sweet spot inside you. 

“Fuck, Eivor, oh God -” You fell into the abyss, nothing but hot darkness surrounding you, the pressure inside your body exploding and leaving your body with a few high-pitched cries before you landed softly, cushioned by Eivor’s body wrapped around you, her mouth on your skin, her hand cupping your throbbing center. 

She gently stroked your head that was resting back against her shoulder.

“My love, my love, my love,” she whispered. You opened your eyes and tried to return to the present; the soft light in the cabin, the warm water carrying you, your lover’s skin against yours. 

“You will ruin me one day, and I will thank you for it,” you rasped and Eivor’s chest convulsed in a silent laugh behind you. 

“Nothing you don’t want, my darling dove.” She held out her flat palm for you to place your hand in, then she kissed it softly. “You really are the most beautiful, sensual, breathtaking woman I have ever known. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine.”

You smiled and let yourself slip a bit deeper into the water. 

“I am yours only, forever.” 

-

You stayed in the bathtub until the water was lukewarm, just caressing each other’s skin, mumbling promises and confessions, washing each other’s hair with that wonderful pine soap, and exchanging long, slow kisses. Then you rubbed the water off your skin with some linen rags Valka had left on a stool for you and Eivor combed out your hair by the fire until it had completely dried. She wove two delicate braids into your hair, one on either side framing your forehead and wrapping around your head like a crown. She braided a few heather blossoms into your hair, the red buds looking like tiny rubies in your diadem.

The whole process took longer than expected because it was constantly interrupted by kisses and hugs, little dances around the hut and unrestrained giggling. Finally, you wrapped your fur coat around your body and Eivor did the same before dragging the wooden tub to the door and emptying it into the shrubbery. You waited for her to put it back in its place, then you both rushed down to your hut, ignoring a few turned faces from the women washing linen in front of a hut nearby and slipping inside with Birna who had already been waiting at the door. 

You threw yourself on the bed and Eivor jumped right on top of you, straddling your hips as she placed a hand on your cheek and gave you her most devilish smirk. You were just about to pull her down into a kiss when someone banged on the door. 

“Eivor, it’s almost noon!” It was Randvi, sounding annoyed and exhausted. “We have a burial to prepare and the games for tonight. Yule is not over, and you are a part of this!”

Eivor groaned and let her head fall on your chest. 

“I’m coming! I’ll be at the longhouse in a moment,” she yelled into your skin before dragging the tip of her tongue over your rosy nipple. You had to hold your breath to not give anything away. Randvi sighed outside.

“Alright, hurry then. You had your fill of pleasure last night, now it’s time to work!” 

You looked at Eivor in alarm, but she just grinned. You could hear steps fading away on the path.

“I expect the whole village may have heard you last night,” she mumbled, her chest vibrating on your stomach as she spoke. You covered your eyes with the crook of your arm, deciding you would never leave this room again. 

Eivor rolled off the bed dramatically, catching herself at the last second and making her way over to her trunk in search of clothes that were not dirty from training, bloody from fighting, or filthy from last night. With a sour look on her face, she put on an old, brown tunic that had several holes at the shoulders and along the beltline, wrapped her leather belt around her hips, and let the weapons fall into place. She laced up her thick boots and threw a beaver fur cape around her shoulders. You pulled the quilt up to your chin and gave her a sympathetic smile.

“I’ll wash everything today, I promise. Tomorrow you will look like a glorious warrior again.” Instead of a young butcher’s apprentice , was what you both thought, but Eivor’s mouth twitched and she came over to you, bowing down to kiss your forehead. 

“Come join me for some food in a while, I first need to plan out the burial and the Yuletide festivities with Randvi.” She squinted at your flushed cheeks. “Do not feel ashamed of your love for me, my darling dove.”

“It is not my love that they judge me for,” you murmured, fiddling with the hem of the quilt. Eivor laughed. 

“Things may have happened very quietly and secretly where you come from, but I promise you, while my clansmen may jest and tease, the ones who have known love will also know what it does to you. Where I come from, we celebrate love and those who get to relish in it.”

With a last kiss to your temple, she rushed out the door, leaving you and Birna to ponder that sentiment. 

The cat curled up at your side and you absentmindedly stroked her fur for a while before admitting to yourself that you were too hungry to stay here any longer. There was no point in hiding, you were now with Eivor and everyone should know it. She was yours. That thought gave you a burst of strength and you swung your legs out of the bed and got dressed quickly, slipping into your only clean tunic and woolen underpants. It was not exactly impressive, but it would keep you warm at least. 

You collected some snow from the front of the hut and set up the kettle for your washing, then you gathered the courage to put on your wooden clogs and head over to the other women who were washing their clothes together. They had big wooden tubs, washboards, and some kind of strong-smelling soap, maybe lemon balm and sheep fat? Their chatter stopped when you came closer and they blinked into the sun behind your head, waiting for you to speak. You took a deep breath.

“I do not think I’ve been properly introduced to either of you. I’m Y/N, from Williamsburg.” Their faces were friendly, curious even. “I just wanted to ask… can I join you? I do not have the tools for washing and dear God, I need to clean a mountain of dirty clothes.” You laughed awkwardly and wanted to slap yourself, but held your breath instead, waiting for them to ridicule you or send you away.

One of them, a woman a bit older than you, with thick black hair and dressed in a beautiful violet linen dress with a beige apron, got up and smiled at you. 

“I’m Hilda. I came over with the Raven clan from Norway. You’re very welcome to bring your washing. We all do ours together every nine days, that way we have company and it is not such a dull task when you’re with friends.” Your heart jumped in your chest. 

“Oh thank you, you are incredibly kind,” you said with a relieved smile, “I’ll be right back.”

You whirled around and rushed back to the hut to gather all the dirty clothes you and Eivor had thrown on a pile over the last few days, ignoring the growing smelly mound and the dwindling stacks of clean clothes. 

“Birna, they were so nice to me,” you told her quietly so they would not hear you speak to a cat, “I may be on my way to finding some new friends!” The cat yawned and stretched her paws deliciously as an answer. You wrapped your hands around the big ball of dirty linen, trying not to drop any smaller pieces, and staggered over to the other women. 

Hilda led you to one of the steaming tubs and told you to dump them all in. With a grunt, you let go of the clothes and started pressing them down to fully submerge them in the milky soap water. 

“First, we soak the fabric and let it sit in the hot water. Then we rub it over the washboards to get rid of the dirt.” She handed you one of the wooden boards with deep ridges in it. “After that, we wring them out and change the water in the tubs so we can wash the soap out of the fabric. Then we make a big fire and hang the clothes around it so they don’t freeze out here before they can dry.”

Another woman, younger than you, with straw blonde hair in a long braid gave you an encouraging smile. 

“And when we wash, Hilda tells us about Norway and her old clan or sometimes Valka comes by and tells us stories about the old days and the Gods. And when the sun comes out-” her eyes were practically sparkling with joy - “we sing songs together.” 

The other women nodded joyfully.

“That’s right, Inga,” Hilda said as she knelt down next to you and began kneading your clothes in the water. “Do you have a song for us today?”

Without hesitation, Inga took a deep breath and began to sing. Her voice was truly the most wonderful thing you had ever heard. Clear and bright it filled the air, her words foreign to you but her expression and the tone of the song telling you about the sun on bright white snow, about melting ice, about warm wind, and the first green leaves on trees. You would not have been surprised if the snow actually started melting and spring came after being called by this angelic voice, this beautiful young woman, and her marvelous lyrics. 

In the second chorus, a few of the other women joined in. The song was long, stretching over dozens of verses and telling a long story of the four seasons and the way the world changed. Sometimes Hilda whispered a few translations to you. While only Inga seemed to know all the verses, everyone had now learned the chorus and even you dared to sing along after a while. The sun was warming your face, your hands were red and warm from the hot water, your arms growing tired from the washboard but you were not going to give up anytime soon. A few women sang along in passing and three younger girls, wrapped in thick woolen coats, sat down on a log closeby, giggling and trying to remember the words. 

You were filled with deep, warm satisfaction and hope for the days to come. This clan was your home now, your family, and you were getting more and more certain that you were going to find your peace here. Not only that, but also new friends and new knowledge and new songs. You had forgotten all about your hunger and the sun had already wandered a good bit further when you remembered that Eivor was waiting for you in the longhouse. You were just about done hanging up the wrung-out clothes on a thick string next to the fire and listening to the others speaking in a funny mix of Norwegian and English. 

“Hilda?” You took a step towards her and she raised her eyebrows at you, her lips curved in a soft smile.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I need to go now, I’m sorry I cannot stay longer. Thank you so much for taking me in and teaching me, it was a wonderful morning.” 

She nodded, a knowing look on her face.

“Don’t leave Eivor waiting. It was nice meeting you. You will make a fine Raven.”

You blushed and lowered your gaze - of course she knew. Thanking her again, you turned and made your way down to the longhouse. When you entered, you could already hear Eivor’s raspy laugh in a corner and after following the sound of her voice, met her at Sfáva’s hearth fire. They were both drinking mead and Sfáva had put a few sausages and vegetables on the metal grill over the fire. Eivor was throwing dried berries into the air and catching them with her mouth, cheered on by the old cook’s almost toothless laughter. 

When your drengr saw you, she sprang up with a cry of joy and pulled you closer, putting an arm around your shoulders as you both faced Sfáva. Eivor said something in Norwegian, something about min kone , and Sfáva’s eyes widened with excitement. She got up to squeeze your hand and pat Eivor’s arm, clearly very pleased to find out you two were now officially together. 

“Very good, very good,” she repeated as she took the sausages and vegetables from the fire with her bare fingers without flinching. She put them in two bowls before adding a few slices of bread to each and handing them to you.

Takk ,” you said and nodded your head respectfully. Eivor laughed and probably made another joke to Sfáva, then you two sat down at one of the long tables. A few other people were scattered around the hall, engaged in humming conversation, some younger women were sweeping the floors and scattering fresh straw for tonight, others were lighting candles as daylight was already beginning to fade. 

“What took you so long, little bird?” There was no blame in Eivor’s voice; she seemed terribly happy considering the loss of a friend yesterday and the planning of his burial just now. 

“I did our washing, remember? I met Helga and Inga.” You placed a hand on hers. “But what about you? How was your meeting with Randvi?”

“Oh, isn’t Inga incredible?” Eivor leaned forward conspiratorially. “She must sing at our wedding. Her voice will bless the day and our bond for eternity.” 

Your head was spinning. Wedding? You had never spoken about such things before. Yes, it was common here as it had been in Williamsburg to marry before… intertwining, and you had certainly seen that for the two of you in the future, but you had been a couple for less than a day. 

“Eivor, I…” your voice trailed off. She seemed completely unbothered by your hesitation. 

“Tonight we shall have games, shooting targets and axe throwing and the like. Do you care to join? I think you could actually show some of our vikingr how it is done.”

You were still too flustered to answer her, quickly stuffing your mouth with a way too hot sausage and burning your tongue, coughing and trying to will away the tears in your eyes. Great. Eivor just waited and smiled. You gulped down some of your ale and hit your chest a few times to help your lungs settle before taking a deep breath and nodding. 

“Thank you,” you said, your voice pressed and your throat still cramped up, “I’d very much like to attend.” 

“It is settled then,” Eivor said with a satisfied tone, downing the last of her drink. “If you want to, you can do a few test shots on the targets with me.”

You sat up straight. 

“Wouldn’t that be considered cheating?” 

Eivor waved her hand between you and made an indistinct noise. 

“All the other men have participated in these games for years, they know their way around the field. You, however, only have a few weeks of practice.” 

You finished your plate, still fighting to control your breathing. Eivor was practically buzzing. She grabbed both your plates and rushed over to Sfáva, thanking her for the meal and coming back to take your hand and pull you with her. The world outside was already darkening and everyone seemed to be in a great mood. You were still puzzled by how quickly they had accepted yesterday’s loss, but Yule must have just come at the right time. 

Hand in hand, you made your way through the village, Eivor greeting people left and right as you tried to memorize their names and faces. You really had to start getting to know other people than the few Englishmen you had come here with. You arrived at a wooden stand in front of an open space between huts and wooden fence, woven straw targets with colorful markings set up at different heights and distances. Eivor took one of the longbows leaning against the railing and handed it to you before picking up a quiver and giving you the first arrow. 

You had only practiced shooting a few times, most of your training involving heavy weaponry and close combat as opposed to less intrusive ranged combat. You nocked the arrow and straightened up, pulling the string back until your fingertips rested right on your cheek. The bow was wonderful, the smooth wood bending slightly and the leather grip firm beneath your fingers. The feathers on the arrow tickled your cheekbone. You adjusted your aim ever so slightly and slowly breathed out. Then you let the arrow fly. 

It hit its target perfectly, a tiny thump echoing off the wooden walls surrounding the area. Eivor cheered and gave you a kiss on the cheek. She handed you another arrow and you aimed for a target further away, the board turned slightly so it was not facing you completely straight on. This would be more difficult. You took another deep breath and released the string. 

This time, the arrow flew past the target and landed in a ball of straw. Eivor gave a delighted laugh and patted your shoulder.

“No worries, that was the hardest one. Work your way up from the close, easy ones to those further back. You’ll have more practice and confidence that way.” 

“That makes sense,” you mumbled and took a third arrow from the quiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Eivor pressing her lips together with anticipation.

You picked a target that was also turned slightly, but closer to your stand. You had to get this one. Slowly, you nocked the arrow and pulled back, feeling the muscles in your upper back contract and gripping the bow as tight as you could before relaxing your fingers and holding it more loosely. Now you had complete control over the smallest movements of your weapon. You fixed your eyes on the target, pulled back the arrow just a little bit further and then let it soar through the air, hitting the red center perfectly. 

With a content grin, you lowered the bow and turned to Eivor. She looked proud. 

“Wonderful, little bird. You will honor me today.” 

You leaned the bow against the railing again and Eivor went to collect the arrows before putting them back into the quiver. She held her arm out for you and you dove in, snaking your arm underneath her coat and around her waist so she had to wrap part of the fur around your body and hold you closer. She squeezed your shoulder and you made your way back to the hut. 

“The washing!” You suddenly remembered, quickening your pace. The fire had almost burned down and only your and Eivor’s clothes were still hanging around it. The wolf-kissed already went inside while you quickly pulled them off and brought them into the warm hut, throwing them on the bed next to Birna. Before you could even try to begin folding them and putting them away, the cat had claimed her new throne. 

You huffed and threw yourself on the bed next to her, scratching her tiny head until she purred. Eivor sat down next to you and gave the cat a loving smile. 

“Our little queen,” she mumbled, and she was right. Birna truly was the queen of this hut, this village, maybe even this whole clan. A few days ago, you had seen her walk up to Sigurd in the longhouse and he had bowed his head and thrown her some bacon from the plate he had just assembled for himself. She had taken it gracefully and made her way into an alcove to devour it in peace. Even he was no match for the mighty Birna.

You turned to face Eivor and drew your fingertips over her wrist. 

“Eivor. You have been in such a great mood today. I do not understand. You lost Alfarr last night, why does it seem to me no one is mourning him?” 

Your drengr ’s face was calm and smooth; she did not flinch at the name of the friend she had lost. She took your hand in hers and thought for a moment before answering.

“My love, I think you and I have very different perceptions of death. Vikingr know that this life is only a step on a long road, a chapter in a long story. They will do everything they can to bring glory and prosperity to their clan or their family so that when they die, they can go on to Valhalla. This is why we always choose to be brave, why we act instantly and without hesitation, why we fight so hard for what we want. We never know when death might tap our shoulder, but when it does, we want to go gracefully, knowing we have always done everything the best we could and given everything we could give.”

You let her words sink in. That did make a lot of sense. While the Vikings believed in an afterlife just like you did and acted toward reaching that afterlife, it filled their life with a want for the good, with courage and pride and bravery. You instead had always been taught to cower before God, before the idea of going to Hell, making yourself small and hoping that your missteps would become just as invisible as you. Your ideas of death were very different, indeed. 

“But… Yngvor? Why was she so shaken?”

Eivor laid down on her side next to you.

“We all were. It had been a brutal fight, and the moment a person just vanishes from your life is always horrible. I did not know Alfarr too well,”  she gave you a wondering look,  “and I was not close with him. I still hate losing men in battle. I often blame myself for not protecting them.”

You were about to protest, but she raised a hand and smiled. 

“I know, we are all trained fighters and I cannot be responsible for everyone. I know. I struggled with this for a long time until Randvi helped me realize I can’t save everyone.” 

Eivor looked down at your intertwined fingers.

“I cannot tell you why his death hit Yngvor so hard. As far as I know, she was not very happy with him.” She sighed. “She was still very well off with him. He was away hunting most of the time, so she had a hut to herself and was well fed and clothed. Maybe she realized she lost that, too.”

You shook your head.

“I do not believe - Valka wouldn’t-” you stopped yourself from mindlessly stammering. “I do not believe Yngvor is like that. But she seemed to be a lot better today.”

Eivor let herself fall on her back with a thump and stared at the ceiling.

“The power of the Yule ritual,” she mumbled. “It really is a new beginning.”

You rolled over and crossed your arms over her chest, resting your chin on your hands and tracing her jawline with your gaze. Eivor’s comment about marrying earlier was still lingering in the back of your head. A year ago, you would have just hoped she would not bring it up again for a while. But you were no longer a small English girl hiding in the kitchens of Williamsburg. You were a fighter of the Raven Clan and you were Eivor’s right hand. It was time to be courageous. You cleared your throat and Eivor looked down at you. 

“Your talk about weddings and such surprised me earlier. I think it caught me off guard because I am just getting accustomed to the thought of being with you at all. You were a few steps ahead.” 

Eivor stroked your hair and smiled. 

“Oh, I know that. I just wanted to see how far ahead I was. This clan, this way of living is all I know. When people are lucky, they end up with someone they love. A lot of unions happen for other reasons. Take Randvi and Sigurd, for example. Randvi could have become a great drengr . She sacrificed that for peace.”

Her fingers were tickling your scalp and you were surprised to find the name of Eivor’s former lover no longer stung as much. Randvi had been through a lot, she had fought for what she loved and she had lost with dignity. 

“But the moment I realized what I feel for you and what the future could be if you joined my clan, I knew I wanted nothing more than to be with you. I have been thinking about this for a lot longer than you have, little bird.” 

You could suddenly breathe a little easier. Eivor had not said what she had said to pressure you or make you insecure. She had simply wanted to tell you just how serious she was about this.

“Well,” you pushed yourself further up the bed so you were face to face with your lover, “I can promise you this: I will not run. I will not cower and I will not go silent. I may need a little more time to adjust to all this, but I can’t imagine going down this path without you. You brought me into a new world and I plan to stay at your side as long as I am in it, and even beyond.”

You gently pressed your lips against Eivor’s and she held you close, her breath shallow as if she was afraid to scare you. You bumped your nose against hers, smiling down at her. 

“Eivor. What I am trying to tell you is that I, too, want Inga singing at our wedding.” 

Slowly, the corners of Eivor’s mouth lifted and she began to grin, her eyes overflowing with joy. She grabbed your head with both hands and gave you a few fierce kisses, accompanied by loud smacking noises that made you laugh and Birna grumble in protest. 

For the third time that day, someone at the door tore you from your little cloud of love. It was Randvi again. Eivor got up and opened the door for her while you sat up, brushing your hands over the fabric of your tunic and straightening your back. 

Randvi entered and gave you a respectful nod. 

“Good evening. The funeral is about to start and I cannot find Valka and Yngvor. Valka was supposed to send him off and Yngvor was supposed to say a few words.” You pressed your lips together, mind racing through the possibilities. Had Yngvor run off and Valka had gone after her? Or were they just hiding somewhere together, preoccupied with other things

“I have not seen Yngvor since before noon,” you said, trying to look as innocent and clueless as possible.

“I last saw Valka this morning,” Eivor added, shrugging. 

Randvi sighed and put her hands on her hips. 

“Well, Eivor, could you speak for him then?” 

“What, Valka’s or Yngvor’s part? Because I don’t suppose I am particularly good at either,” the blonde grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

“Oh come on, Eivor, please.” Randvi really looked desperate. “Sigurd is refusing, too. Someone of position needs to make this funeral bearable for all of us.” 

“Why can’t you do it?” Eivor asked, throwing her hands up. “You’re of position . Thor’s hammer, where are those two? Maybe I can find them before it’s too late.” 

Randvi gave her a doubtful look, but then she sighed and nodded. 

“Alright, you have until the moon rises. We already prepared everything. Hurry.” 

She stepped out into the dusk and you could make out Eda waiting on the path. Interesting. Those two really seemed to have grown inseparable. 

Eivor groaned and turned to you. 

“Help me?” She looked so hopeless and exasperated you had to laugh. You got up from the bed and patted her shoulder.

“Of course, my fierce warrior.” 

You quickly slipped into your more presentable clothes for the funeral, then you put another piece of wood into the fire for Birna and headed out. The stars were already shining down on you and you quickly made your way up to Valka’s hut. Of course, Randvi must have checked it before, but you decided that you were going to be as thorough as possible. 

Eivor banged on the door a few times, then she opened it and peered inside. Nothing. You squeezed past her and took a look around the room. Valka’s coat was thrown on the bed, things were lying around as if she had only been in here for a short while and grabbed things in haste. Her headdress was not here, neither were her boots. 

“She was here after we bathed. Maybe she went to Yngvor’s hut?”

Eivor huffed and you left the cabin together, carefully closing the door behind you and rushing down the path. Eivor knew the way and you quickly walked to the eastern end of the village, hastily greeting people in passing and asking some if they had seen Valka or Yngvor, which they all negated. How could they have just vanished off the earth?

Arriving at Yngvor’s hut, a fairly small one with a blue door and beautiful Yuletide decorations, Eivor almost rammed the door in with her fist. You had to stifle a laugh. She really did not want to give that speech. 

“Valka! Yngvor!” Eivor roared. “Wherever you are, I swear to Odin…” She banged on the door a few times more. An almost inaudible squeaking noise caught your attention and you turned to the direction it had come from. There was only a small stable in the open space next to the hut, probably for goats by the look of the prints in the snow. They had already been brought in for the night. You followed the human footprints to the stable and notice that there were two different sets of shoe prints frozen in time for you to find. 

You elbowed the groaning Eivor in the side and gave her a sign to be quiet and come with you. As you got closer, you could see movement in the small ridges between the wooden planks of the stable. 

“Valka?” you called out as you stopped a few feet from the stable door. Eivor looked dumbfounded. 

The door swung open with another squeak and Valka stood in front of you. The headdress was hanging dangerously lopsided and there was straw all over her clothes. Her cheeks were flushed. 

“Apologies. I must have… fallen asleep.”

Eivor crossed her arms and leaned back, savoring the moment. It was a little mean, but she deserved her moment of vindication. 

“With the goats?” she said, voice thick with amusement. 

“Yes,” Valka sighed, bowing her head and trying to brush the straw off her robe, “I fed them and thought I’d lie down for a moment. I must have forgotten the time.” 

“You are a mastermind, Y/N.” Eivor put her arm around your shoulder and grinned. Louder, she exclaimed, “You can come out now, Yngvor.” 

The red-haired woman came out of the stable behind Valka, just as dirty and embarrassed.

“Isn’t this lovely,” Eivor mused. “Well, we have a funeral to get to. And Y/N has a tournament to win. I guess we better get going.” 

Yngvor closed the stable door behind her without a word and Valka continued to frantically pull straw from her clothes. 

“I did not lie, we fell asleep,” she hissed at Eivor, who had stepped around the seeress and generously began to help her clean herself up. Yngvor gave you a side glance as you made your way to the longhouse. You gazed back curiously and she gave you a nervous smile. 

“What you must think of me,” she said quietly, fidgeting with the cord around her waist. 

“Oh, I have been in your position quite a lot lately,” you assured her. “I prefer not to think anything about others as long as I do not know them well enough to make a judgement.” 

“Thank you.” She looked relieved. Upon second thought, she touched your arm. You slowed down to fall behind Eivor and Valka and she took a deep breath. 

“You know, Alfarr was a strong man, a good fighter. For so long, the possibility of his departure, the possibility of change was not something I ever saw coming, I thought this was my life and it would be so for years to come.” You nodded. You knew the feeling. 

“When they brought him back last night, I felt like I had been pushed off a high ledge, a cliff maybe. I was flailing in the air, not knowing what to do or where to go next. While our life together may not have been a good one, he was all I had. I had accepted that. And all of a sudden, I had lost my footing and everything I had seen in my future had vanished.” 

You took her hand and squeezed it softly, giving her a knowing look.

“And then Valka came,” you said. 

“And then Valka came,” she repeated, a warm glow behind her eyes. “She reminded me of all the paths I can choose to take, of my role in this clan, and of my own strength. And suddenly it was all so clear.” 

Yngvor smiled at you.

“I chose her.” It really was that simple. You smiled back.

“So did I.” You looked ahead to Eivor who was already talking to Randvi and Sigurd, both of whom seemed very relieved at the recovery of their seeress. 

You stepped on the yard in front of the longhouse, where a pyre had been built and Alfarr had been placed on top, dressed in his best clothes and holding his axe firmly across his chest. He looked at peace. You gave Yngvor an encouraging nod and squeezed her hand one last time. 

“You can do this. Close this chapter and step into a better future.” 

You saw Yngvor and Valka exchange a look before stepping closer to the pyre together and waiting for everyone to settle down. Eivor came back to you and you wrapped an arm around her waist, finding comfort in her warmth. She pressed a kiss to the top of your head and hummed into your hair. 

“I love you, Eivor,” you whispered. “Don’t you dare leave me for Valhalla.” 

Eivor pulled you closer and pressed her cheek to your forehead. 

“I love you, too. We shall conquer this world together and live a long, fulfilled life before we sail to the shores of the afterlife.”