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Chapter Text

Eivor seethed on the docks beside Styrbjorn, to the point that she would not be surprised if steam rose from her shoulders. Thralls rushed back and forth to prepare and dock the ship in their harbor, and Styrbjorn stood tall and proud, hand resting against the hilt of his sword.

Eivor frowned, struggling to keep her scowl from her face. She stood as tall and proud as her adoptive father. Her fur cloak made her shoulders look broader and the length of the cape kept her weapons on her belt hidden. Like Styrbjorn, she rested her hands upon the axes at her belt and watched as the Reindeer clan unloaded their ship.

The Reindeer Clan's jarl descended to the dock and approached. He was a burly man and his red hair, though speckled with gray strands, was braided down his back. A gangly boy of no more than fourteen winters followed him, offering a respectful bow of his head. He was tall like his father, and his sandy blonde hair was cropped short to his head. He rested his hands on a sword strapped to his waist that looked far too big for him to properly swing.

Two red-headed women appeared on Raudkarr's other side. They were nearly identical, except one was slightly taller than the other. The woman in green glared daggers at the Ravens, though her sister seemed calmer, tapping her fingers gently against the hammer at her belt.

The woman in blue met Eivor's eyes and the two sized each other carefully. Eivor suspected she was the one.

"Raudkarr Jarl, you honor the Raven clan. This is Eivor." Styrbjorn spoke diplomatically, gesturing to Eivor disinterestedly.

Eivor dipped her chin in a polite greeting, letting her eyes slide away from the woman to her father. He clutched his hands together before him and bowed his head in greeting. "Greetings,"

Styrbjorn and Raudkarr exchanged pleasantries as the thralls rushed about, and eventually Styrbjorn led them on a brief tour of Fornburg. It didn't take them long, and Eivor stewed in silence the entirety of their walk through town. The siblings following Raudkarr were mostly quiet. The youngest, the boy, occasionally spoke up when addressed by his father. The sisters and Eivor were ignored.

Eivor followed along towards the longhouse and settled beside Styrbjorn at their war table. Much of Eivor's time was spent doing chores about the village, but Styrbjorn relied on her to assist in alliance-building in the absence of his born-son.

Eivor frowned at the thought of her brother. Would she have been spared from this fate had he stayed?

"Let us discuss the terms of our arrangement." Styrbjorn began, once the Reindeers had settled into their seats.

"It is quite an unusual one, I will admit. I am hesitant to agree to such a deal."

Eivor tamped down on the hopeful lurch in her stomach. "It is indeed unusual." Styrbjorn conceded. "But the Raven Clan will honor it as though I were offering my first-born son."

Eivor clenched her fists beneath the table. The other two women at the table seemed in better control of themselves than Eivor felt over herself. The woman in blue shifted just slightly, and their eyes met again.

"Your daughter, Eivor, she is not your blood?"

Eivor stared at Raudkarr, watching him carefully. "I took her into my home after the near-annihilation of her clan." Styrbjorn explained. "She became my ward and my duty to her father remains. I will see that she is married and cared for before the coming winter."

Eivor bit the inside of her cheek, trembling with the effort to prevent an outburst. "Your loyalty is noble, Styrbjorn. It bodes well for our alliance."

Styrbjorn nodded his head. "And of your offering?"

"My eldest daughter, Randvi." Raudkarr gestured to his daughter, the woman sitting closest to him. "A skilled tactician, huntress, and of noble blood. She is dear to my clan, and she will make a fitting addition to yours."

Eivor wanted to wretch onto the floor as the conversation continued of their various merits. "My finest drengr, Eivor handles much of our martial forces. It seems to be a fine match."

The woman at Raudkarr's side raised her chin, meeting Eivor's gaze with a confident gaze of her own. Their lives reduced to a list of offerings and contributions, they were being traded away like admittedly prized livestock.

"So we agree?" Styrbjorn spoke. "We move forward with the alliance."

Eivor tried not to visibly deflate. There'd been a moment she hoped they would part ways without a deal.

"I will agree to the pairing." Raudkarr said. "I would see your daughter living among the Reindeers."

"That I cannot allow. She is my finest warrior, I cannot simply see her off without protection in her place. You understand, Raudkarr. If Fornburg cannot protect its borders we cannot possibly come to your aid in times of crisis."

Raudkarr stroked his red beard in thought. "I do understand, and for this I will concede. Randvi will remain here."

Randvi's eyes slid from man to man, before focusing on the table before them. Eivor felt a jolt of pity for her. At least she would remain among her own clan.

"Our union, it will include reinforcements against the Wolves?" Raudkarr leaned forward.

"You will have our protection."

"Prior to their union, I would expect trade routes secured fully."

"I will have my warriors handle routes between Fornburg and the Reindeers."

"In the meantime, I will have Randvi working alongside you to clear Kjotve from your borders."

"You have high regard for her martial prowess." Styrbjorn probed.

"I have ensured my daughters are educated and respectable." Raudkarr gestured to Randvi and her sister. "They are the pride of our clan. Randvi has been my right hand since her sixteenth winter."

Eivor arched an eyebrow as the two men continued to speak idly. She and Randvi watched each other, carefully blank expressions on their faces. From across the table, Eivor admired the angle of her jaw, and the slope of her cheeks. She was a beautiful woman, and the glint in her eye as she scrutinized Eivor told her that she was incredibly intelligent as well.

Eivor leaned back, this woman interested her. Raudkarr asked Randvi a question, and their eye contact broke. Eivor's eyes slid to her sister, and found the woman glaring heatedly at her. She was unsure why the woman seemed to dislike her, but she wouldn't allow her to intimidate her.

They haggled long into the night, and by the time the two jarls dismissed the negotiations the moon was high in the sky and the nighttime chill settled across the land. Eivor rushed from the longhouse, unwilling to bother with a late night meal, and fled outside.

As soon as the cold air met her face, she felt herself finally relax. She lingered outside and spotted Synin flitting between the hatches in the longhouse roof to sleep among the rafters. She sighed and watched the steam rise from her lips.

She heard footfall behind her, slow and hesitant, and finally they came to a stop beside Eivor. "The legendary Wolf-Kissed,"

Eivor turned to find Randvi standing beside her, watching her carefully in the low light. "Your reputation precedes you as well."

Randvi nodded her head, letting her eyes roam Eivor's form. "You were rather quiet in there."

"As were you,"

Randvi set her hands on her hips and turned fully to regard Eivor. "I am surprised a warrior of your caliber has agreed to such an arrangement."

Eivor stiffened, keeping her eyes on Randvi. "I do what I must to protect my people." She said. "I owe this clan my life."

"Then we understand each other,"

"We do?"

"This is a strategic marriage of importance to our people. We will need to discuss our personal arrangement."

Eivor dipped her chin in acknowledgment. "I feel that is fair. For now, I'm tired. We'll find time to talk tomorrow."

The winter nights in Fornburg were long and frigid, the winds seemed to steal away the heat from their bones, blowing through any overlooked crevice in their homes. Eivor loved it.

Normally, at least, Eivor found a twisted enjoyment out of chapped hands and purpling fingertips. This night, however, she tossed and turned beneath her furs, unable to calm the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears. She could hardly stop the shaking of her hands as she repeated to herself all the reasons this marriage would be necessary for her people.

The night lasted too long for Eivor's comfort. At the first signs of dawn's approach, she pulled herself from her furs and dressed herself. An early morning hunt would calm her mind. Synin would be grumpy, he usually liked to wait until dawn at least before following her into the forests, but she would feed him whatever he wanted and he would get over it.

Synin was indeed grumpy. He fluttered down to her shoulder solely to tug angrily at her braids, only to launch back into the air as she swiped at him with an irritated squawk.

It was a bitter morning that stung her face and dried her eyes. The furs around her shoulders ruffled in the wind and her horse snorted as she started a slow wandering pace towards her favorite hunting grounds just south of Fornburg.

She pulled away from the trail and dismounted from her horse, feeling a slight change in the hard ground beneath her feet, she noticed a hoof trail leading further into the woods. Eivor led her horse through the underbrush and followed the tracks.

The reins tied to a tree nearby, Eivor recognized the horse as one of Styrbjorn’s. A ginger beauty, it nickered happily as Eivor left her own mount nearby. A moment of comfort for the beasts while Eivor snuck away further into the forest.

Whoever took the horse left a trail. Eivor could see the broken twigs in the brush and the tracks in the late winter snow. She followed silently, more curious than suspicious.

She moved quickly, the trail was easy to follow. The hunter was not trying to hide. Dung along the tracks told Eivor that the hunter followed behind a young deer. The animal likely wouldn't have survived long even if she and the other hunter did not follow its trail. The animal tracks were small, and the fur left behind was so downy and soft.

Synin chirped in warning, and Eivor knew she was nearing the other hunter. She crouched, moving slowly and squinting through the brush.

The huntress moved slowly enough that Eivor nearly missed her. She crept through the brush, bow in hand.

The arrow hissed through the air before Eivor could quite spot their prey. The beast fell, a clean kill, and the huntress stood.

Her fiery red hair was pulled taut across her head, though a portion of it hung to the side to frame her face. The angle of her jaw was sharp, Eivor wasn't sure if that was how Randvi normally looked, or if her jaw clenched tight and the muscles in her cheeks tensed to cut a handsome line in her face.

Randvi rolled her shoulders, frowning as she set about handling her kill. Eivor took her chance to make enough noise to declare her presence. Randvi whipped around, hammer in hand and ready to swing before Eivor could properly move from her own hiding place.

"Eivor," Randvi greeted stiffly.

"I didn't mean to follow." Eivor held a hand up in placation. Randvi lowered her hammer, still eyeing Eivor suspiciously. "I came across your horse."

Randvi nodded. "I needed time to myself."

Eivor looked beyond Randvi to her kill. "Young,"

"Something to pass the time."

Eivor returned her gaze to Randvi’s own stare. They sized each other up, tension thick in the air between them. "I thought I was the only one awake."

"Are you normally hunting at this hour?"

"No," Eivor admitted. "Sleep is-"

Randvi’s blue eyes darted away. "It is difficult to sleep here."

"Fornburg is not so bad." Eivor shrugged, moving to crouch above Randvi’s felled deer. "You're right, though. The first nights are the hardest."

"What has you up?"

Eivor raised an eyebrow, looking again at the redhead standing awkwardly away from her. "I imagine we have similar reasons."

Randvi shifted her weight from foot to foot. "We have no choice in the matter." She said. "There is no use in ruminating."

Eivor snorted. "And yet, here we are. Unable to sleep, dancing around each other, the rest of our lives wound together and we hardly know each other."

Randvi’s tense shoulders loosened. "Understanding will come in time."

Eivor stood, gesturing to the young deer on the ground. "You made a clean shot."

"My father boasts of my hunting skills. I've met far more impressive hunters."

Eivor felt a playful smile tug at her lips, even as she hesitated. "I suspect our fathers boast of many facets of ourselves we find mediocrity in."

Randvi raised an eyebrow. "And you, Wolf-Kissed? Does Styrbjorn exaggerate of your battle prowess?"

Eivor scoffed. "None of that is exaggeration."

Randvi's smirk gave Eivor the distinct impression that perhaps she was stepping awfully close to a trap ready to spring. Randvi circled her prey, wolfish, ready to pounce. "Perhaps it is, perhaps legend grows wild and the great Eivor Wolf-Kissed is but another shieldmaiden of Fornburg."

Eivor struggled to maintain her cool. It seemed Randvi found a weakness in her armor. It seemed Randvi would exploit it until Eivor begged mercy. "I am everything the legends say and more."

Randvi tilted her head. "Arrogant, foolishly sworn to defeat an unbeatable foe. Loyal to revenge rather than to her king. Tell me, Eivor, are you really what the legends say? Will I be a widow within the year?"

Eivor gnashed her teeth together, ready to strike back. The wind blew the trees just slightly and the golden light of dawn fell across Randvi's face for only a moment. But a moment is just long enough. "Am I really so repulsive?" She teased, moving closer to challenge Randvi. "You cling to whatever insult you can conjure, hoping something will land." Eivor came nose to nose with Randvi, looking down only slightly. She could see the tension in Randvi’s body as her hands shook only slightly. "You provoke and provoke because you grasp at your final chance of escape. If I will grow too weary of your disdain and forfeit my clan for the sake of my own freedom, you stand to gain your freedom as well."

Randvi watched her for a beat too long. Her face a carefully blank expression, Eivor could admire her restraint. "Then you are clever enough,"

Eivor crossed her arms. "Clever enough?"

Randvi pushed past Eivor, their shoulders brushing gentler than she expected. "Perhaps you already know, I don't suffer fools. I cannot bear to marry a woman who thinks with only her axe."

"You believed me foolish?"

Randvi shrugged. "I was unsure. Anyone as vocal about their rivalry with Kjotve must either be foolish or suicidal."

"I am neither!" Eivor scowled at Randvi’s back. "His fate is sealed. He will die by my blade."

Randvi tutted without turning to regard Eivor. "You are veering back towards foolishness."

"You couldn't possibly understand." Eivor scoffed.

"You know I had an older brother," Randvi's voice was light and conversational, with just an undercurrent of warning.

Eivor frowned, crossing her arms. "Oh?"

"A handsome boy," Randvi cut into the carcass. "He grew up with a girl named Gunhilda. Father said the two were betrothed by the time they were six winters old. Not because he decided so, but because they were intent on each other."

Eivor furrowed her brows and waited.

"Kjotve captured my brother on his first raid. He was hardly a man, truthfully he was still a boy." Eivor stilled. Randvi’s voice grew rugged, though Eivor would let Randvi blame it on the tough task at hand. "I was six winters old when Kjotve’s men delivered my father a crate. Inside, was my brother's head."

Eivor opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted. "His balls were stuffed into his mouth. He was missing both eyes. My family has never recovered from such disrespect."

Randvi turned her head just enough to regard Eivor. "You see, Wolf-Kissed, I do not find your claim to vengeance to be unique." Randvi turned away again. "Many men have vowed to make Kjotve and his entire bloodline suffer. All of them were denied Valhalla by Kjotve’s cruelty."

Eivor gaped, not unlike a fish, at the back of Randvi’s head.

"So tell me, Eivor. You are most willing to die honorably. But are you willing to live honorably? Would you let your people suffer and die in your absence for the sake of vengeance?"

Eivor didn't have an answer. She suspected that there would be nothing to satisfy Randvi's questioning. Perhaps this was another test, but no matter what she said she would fail. "Kjotve is a stain on Midgard." Eivor said instead. "I would see it removed."

Randvi remained silent, and Eivor decided she had walked straight into Randvi's true disdain. "Two years later, Gunhilda hung herself from a tree not far from the longhouse. She was always kind to me."

"Where is your fire?" Eivor challenged. "Have you already become so defeated you cannot see what must be done?"

Randvi whirled around, skinning knife in hand. In those blue eyes, Eivor found a fire that burned hotter than perhaps even she felt. "There is more to this life than honor and vengeance. Is it so honorable to die a stuck pig on the ground? Would you sacrifice your chance at Kjotve's life to lead your clan to survival, Glory Hound?"

Humiliation churned in her gut. How could this woman she barely knew push her to such seething rage? "I have sacrificed more than you know-"

"You have lost people," Randvi conceded. "You cared for them. But they are gone. Do you only care for what you cannot have? Would you throw away the ones who are still here for memories?"

Eivor snapped. "I'm marrying you, aren't I?"

A flash of offense crossed Randvi’s face before she could settle into neutrality. Randvi regarded Eivor a moment. Eivor got the impression that she did not see what impressed so many others about her. "Yet it seems I will be making the larger sacrifice."

Chapter Text

Eivor made herself scarce for the three weeks leading to the Reindeers' return home. Randvi would be left behind, and Eivor knew within herself that Randvi would hate her even more if she knew how much she pitied her.

Though they seldom interacted privately, their conversations had been polite, albeit stiff. Eivor was a dog with her tail between her legs. The verbal thrashing she had received that morning in the woods left her with a bruised ego, and she knew very little would cheer her other than a raid.

To her credit, Randvi did not seem to hold a grudge. She wasn't a cold woman, and Eivor could appreciate that.

The day did have to come, though. Eivor saw her future father-in-law off at the docks, standing tall beside Randvi. Eivor heaved a sigh of relief as the sails disappeared on the horizon. Thora, Randvi’s sister, had been particularly tough on Eivor. She suspected it may have had something to do with their conversation that first morning. Either way, Eivor suspected Thora thought even less of her than Randvi did.

Randvi stood, forlorn, as everyone she knew sailed away. Eivor shifted uncomfortably beside her, occasionally stealing glances out of the corner of her eyes. Randvi kept a stoic expression, but Eivor had observed her enough over the weeks to know that it was a wall she kept to protect herself.

Eivor sighed again. "I, uh,"

"Please," Randvi muttered. "I don't wish to fight today."

Eivor cleared her throat. She reached into a pouch at her belt and offered her hand to Randvi.

Randvi glanced down, brows furrowed in confusion. "What is that?"

"I am many things, an artisan is not one of them." Eivor mumbled sheepishly. "A peace offering," She supplied.

Randvi raised her eyes to meet Eivor's hopeful gaze. "Peace?"

Eivor shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance that she didn’t really feel. "I made a fool of myself, and you said I was clever. Clever enough to tell that, at least." Eivor looked to the ground. "It isn't beautiful, or particularly valuable." She warned. "But it took me weeks to get it right. Our marriage does not have to be a miserable one."

Amusement danced in Randvi’s eyes. There was a slight sparkle there that left Eivor feeling off kilter. "I appreciate it." A pause. "But, what is it?"

"You mean you can't tell?" Eivor scoffed. "A bear!"

Randvi giggled, a musical sound that surprised Eivor. "Of course! How daft of me."

Eivor pointed towards a portion of the carving. "Do you not see the vicious claws? Those great teeth and beady, evil eyes."

Randvi grinned, accepting the token. "I should look closer." She unraveled the cord attached to the pendant. "Your craftsmanship could use some work." Randvi looked back to Eivor. "But the cording is braided beautifully."

If Sigurd had been there, he would have made a show of teasing Eivor for her preening before a beautiful woman accepting such a crude attempt at a gift. Eivor squared her shoulders. "I am a fine drengr." She declared haughtily, just a little exaggerated to clarify her humor. "There will be many more extravagant gifts. But for now, this will have to do."

Randvi rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her. "I expect to be spoiled, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor's breath stuttered in her chest. Their first pleasant conversation and it sent Eivor spinning. "You have my word."

"Sigurd has sent word." Styrbjorn said, waving a hand adorned with rings through the air. Randvi raised an eyebrow, glancing to Eivor.

"What news does he send? Will he be returning soon?" Eivor asked excitedly.

"He predicts his return before next year's freeze." Styrbjorn shuffled his letters to find the correct one. "He sends his regrets that he will be missing your wedding. Sigurd said he would quite like to meet the woman to tame Eivor Wolf-Kissed."

Randvi's cheeks brightened, and Eivor rolled her eyes, pouting. "I'm glad he is well."

"I did not call upon the two of you today to discuss Sigurd." Styrbjorn sighed, setting aside his letters. "I have been invited to discuss an alliance with King Harald to the north. I leave in two weeks. Eivor, I must leave the care of Fornburg in your capable hands."

Eivor nodded her head to him. She watched him closely. Harald Fairhair had been a competitor to the Ravens for dwindling resources in the face of Kjotve's growing armies. An alliance would prove useful in ousting Kjotve, though it could devolve quickly following her defeat of their mutual enemy.

"Randvi," Styrbjorn regarded her, not suspiciously, but carefully. "Your father has discussed at length your skills in negotiation and strategy. I will require your assistance in preparation."

Randvi's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, of course. Our clans are to be united, my loyalty is to you."

"Father," Eivor spoke hesitantly. She would not want to offend her jarl. "I am concerned regarding this alliance."

"There is no agreement yet, Eivor." Styrbjorn reassured her, turning his attention to a half-written note before him. "What are your concerns?"

Eivor glanced to Randvi. She expected such a clever woman would agree with her. "With respect, King Harald is an ambitious man." Styrbjorn looked up to watch Eivor find the correct words. "He has been a rival for years, father."

Randvi watched Eivor without seeing her. "If I may, my king." She glanced to their jarl, but mostly spoke to Eivor. "His ambition is a concern. My father has had dealings with him in the past. King Harald seeks power across Norway."

"Yes," Eivor agreed.

"If you agree to an alliance with him," Randvi continued. "We should come to a long-term agreement. One that is well known across Norway. Should Harald break his vows, he will put his own ambitions at risk with other clans."

Styrbjorn scribbled a note, glancing at the woman they still hardly knew. "Your wisdom is sound, Randvi."

"If we are to ally with him against Kjotve, I would like to understand his intentions for our bonds following his death." Eivor said. "I will kill Kjotve, my jarl, and if we are not careful, King Harald may consider us to be the next barrier between him and power."

Randvi straightened. "It would be an honor to prepare agreements and demands, Styrbjorn Jarl."

"Yes, Randvi, we shall discuss our demands in the coming days."

"Who will accompany you?" Eivor asked.

"I will require a seasoned warrior to lead our security force. Who would you have to protect your Jarl, Eivor?"

Eivor paused a moment. "I would trust your life in no hands other than Dag's, father." Eivor straightened. "Sigurd entrusted Fornburg's wealth to him. Our raiders trust him to lead them in my absence."

Styrbjorn nodded his head. "Then prepare our warriors for my trip north. Ensure they are in superior condition."

"Yes, my king."

Eivor wandered through Fornburg, the crust of a loaf of bread hanging out of her mouth. After a stop at Gunnar's forge to sharpen her weapons, she was ready to whip her raiders into shape. Dag would help as her right-hand.

Dag and Sigurd had always been close, even before Eivor was introduced to Fornburg. Eivor and Dag were friendly and always had been, but Sigurd's absence pushed them closer together. Eivor hadn't been the only one Sigurd left behind. Dag, like Eivor, would kill for the chance to raid alongside their future jarl.

This particular day, the sky cleared and the sun warmed the town with a golden glow. Eivor did not move fast, instead she languidly enjoyed the unseasonable light. Her warriors would prepare themselves for their training before she arrived, and she had no reason to hurry.

Synin dropped from the sky to land upon her shoulder. His sudden appearance staggered Eivor an extra step, her raven was a heavy bird. She paid him no mind and continued her leisurely walk. As she passed by, a woman haggling with a nearby merchant straightened. She tossed her fiery red hair over her shoulder and turned her head just so. Eivor was transfixed.

The angle of her jaw and the slope of her throat was inviting, but it was Randvi's cunning eyes falling upon her that stopped Eivor in her tracks.

Her bride was beautiful. She knew this already, but the Gods would not show her mercy. Randvi arched an eyebrow as she turned fully to regard Eivor and her bird-friend.

"Who is this?" She asked, gesturing to Synin. "He's a beautiful bird."

Synin chirped as if to respond, and Eivor shrugged her shoulder until he fluttered to the ground between them. "His name is Synin, he is a good friend of mine."

"Have ravens always followed you around?"

"Synin does more than that," Eivor smirked. "He is my eyes and ears. There have been many times he has saved my life."

Randvi clicked her tongue at the bird, stretching her hand to him and waving her fingers. Eivor opened her mouth to warn Randvi about his attitude when Synin tilted his head and hopped closer toward Randvi. Eivor had never seen Synin approach another person.

Randvi caught Eivor's stunned expression and smirked. She snatched the last piece of Eivor's snack from her hand and tore a piece for the bird, tossing it to the ground between them. Synin chirped happily, taking the offering and hopping to stand at Randvi's feet. "He's friendly,"

Eivor scoffed. "He absolutely is not. Do not let him fool you."

Synin chirped again, taking another piece directly from Randvi's fingertips. "Perhaps he just doesn't like you."

Eivor let out a bark of laughter despite herself. "Perhaps he doesn't."

"Don't worry, handsome." Randvi cooed at Synin. "I think she's obnoxious too."

"Well, I think you're mean." Eivor retorted. "Every conversation is a test to you."

Randvi hummed, attention still on the bird. "When you stop failing them, maybe I will stop testing you."

Eivor rolled her eyes. "How have preparations with Styrbjorn gone?"

"Well," Randvi straightened, fondly watching Synin take flight. "I have gathered more details, some I would like to discuss with you. You know our king better than I do."

Eivor nodded. "Walk with me then, I am heading towards the training pit. Our raiders are always kept in good condition, but I will be evaluating them in advance of the summit."

Randvi followed Eivor towards the pit, a beat of silence before Eivor spoke again. "Your concerns?"

She pursed her lips, and Eivor's curiosity grew. "I am not convinced this summit is to discuss an alliance."

"A trap, then?"

"No, an alliance, just not between equals."

"I don't follow."

"King Harald has bold plans to unite the clans of Norway." Randvi spoke quietly, to prevent others from overhearing. "I believe this summit has more to do with absorbing the Raven clan than partnering with you."

"Us,"

"Hm?" Randvi turned, catching Eivor's eye. She blushed. "Yes, us, I suppose I should say that."

"It will take some time." Eivor shrugged. "Harald wants to conquer us?"

"No," Randvi shook her head. "I'm afraid it may be more underhanded. Harald approached my father with a similar proposition some years ago. My father rejected his deal. Harald will ask Styrbjorn to abdicate his throne and swear fealty to him."

Eivor stopped, watching Randvi continue a few more steps before turning to watch her. "He would never agree to such a demand."

Randvi pressed her lips together. She approached Eivor and leaned in. To the outside, it looked like two lovers leaning into each other. Eivor knew better, even if she found the freckles dusting across Randvi's cheeks to be alluring. "Between you and I, Styrbjorn has expressed interest."

Eivor's stomach dropped. "What of Sigurd?"

"What of him?"

"He expects to return home to lead a clan. If Styrbjorn abdicates the throne, Sigurd will not inherit leadership."

"Then we are lucky he is not here." Randvi whispered. "Such an argument could cause irreparable tension not just within the Raven clan but between your clan and mine."

Eivor tilted her head. "Why are you telling me this?"

Randvi blinked. "Are you a fool? This could damage our alliance, it could thrust our people into a war. Kjotve would wait long enough for us to weaken ourselves and then lay waste to everything we have."

"I'm no fool." Eivor frowned. "But you must be. This would be your chance to dissolve our betrothal."

Randvi's eyes dipped down. Eivor wasn't sure what she was looking at, but her gaze returned to meet Eivor's with a new conviction. "My concern is not- I don't want," Randvi sighed again, interrupting her own nervous stuttering. "Marrying you is not a comparable fate to the torture Kjotve would put our people through. I couldn't convince Styrbjorn not to consider whatever offer Harald will have ready. It will be tempting, it was for my father. But if he accepts, Harald would become an even stronger king than before."

"Our people would not like that." Eivor muttered, slightly distracted by Randvi's beautiful eyes. "Our people already pay a high tax to Styrbjorn, their loyalty is to him, to Sigurd. But if he abdicates then Harald will demand heftier taxes to him as well."

Randvi placed a hand on Eivor's chest, no one would think hard about what they were talking about in the middle of the village. "You have a keen mind for politics, Eivor. This could be dangerous for us."

Eivor frowned. "A coup would kill us alongside the jarl." Eivor covered Randvi's hand with her own. "Do what you are doing. Keep working with Styrbjorn and convince him to reject Harald. In the meantime, I will speak with Dag and write to Sigurd. If anyone can convince him otherwise, it would be his son."

"Not you?" Randvi asked curiously.

Eivor shook her head. "I am his ward and responsibility. My loyalty is to his son. But I am not his daughter. He won't consider my argument."

Randvi nodded. She leaned in and Eivor’s breath caught in her throat. Randvi pressed her lips to her cheek and whispered. "Keep your wits, Eivor. If this does not go well our heads will roll alongside Styrbjorn's."

Randvi yelped as Eivor yanked her down a path with a hand on her elbow. "A word, darling?" Eivor said loudly enough to catch a few eyes.

"Eivor?" Randvi muttered, allowing her to drag her away towards a more private wooded area.

"We fucked ourselves on this one." Eivor hissed.

Randvi blinked at her. "Okay, you need to breathe. Nothing has happened yet."

"It's about to!" Eivor threw her hands in the air, turning around to pace. "Sigurd wrote back!"

Randvi's eyebrows shot up. "What did he have to say?"

"He's pissed and he's coming back early!"

Randvi remained nonplussed. "Yes, Eivor, I'm going to need a better explanation."

Eivor growled. "Sigurd is to return home early, if he interrupts the summit, we will lose any chance of an alliance with Harald."

Randvi rested a hand upon her hip and watched Eivor pace, stewing in her frustration. "Styrbjorn leaves for the summit tomorrow. There's no possible way for Sigurd to interrupt it."

"Then he returns early and Styrbjorn will know we acted outside of his orders."

Randvi inspected her nails disinterestedly. "As I recall, you acted outside of his orders."

Eivor turned to Randvi. "Are you serious?"

Randvi smirked at her fingers. "No," She looked up to meet Eivor's glare. "Darling,"

"Randvi," Eivor rolled her eyes. "Our lives are on the line."

Randvi pursed her lips. "Say Styrbjorn abdicates," She wandered toward Eivor, plucking one of her knives from Eivor's belt. She twirled the blade between her fingers and thought for a moment. "Say Styrbjorn abdicates, Sigurd can't possibly be here in time to stop him."

Eivor crossed her arms, watching her betrothed play with her dagger. "And then, what?"

"Well, it's not Sigurd's throne to abdicate. It is his father's." Randvi said, glancing to Eivor. "What could Sigurd really do?"

"Stage a coup,"

"And if he does so he puts his own position in danger. Is Sigurd really so brash?" Randvi asked. "Would Sigurd risk dividing his army between two loyalties? He's been gone for two years now."

"We spoke about this earlier, a coup-"

"Organized by an angry people," Randvi interrupted. "Would end in our deaths. But Sigurd would be a fool to do so himself. Styrbjorn's abdication would complicate Sigurd's claim to power. Let him come, he will throw a child's tantrum and Styrbjorn will have to put him in his place."

Eivor pinched at the bridge of her nose. "That does not solve our problem regarding our people."

Randvi pressed her lips together. "For that I have an idea. You won't like it."

"Why won't I like it?"

Randvi shifted on her feet, her hand drifted up to her collarbone. "Move up the wedding."

Eivor staggered like she'd been struck. "You want to marry early?"

Randvi tossed the blade between her hands. "A wedding could pacify anger. Distract the people."

"That doesn't-"

Randvi leveled Eivor with a heated gaze, one Eivor couldn't quite understand. "Think, Eivor." She said gently. "It gives Sigurd and Styrbjorn time to fight through their disagreements. Meanwhile, we smile and wave, kiss babies, and our clans prepare for a wedding."

"I don't understand."

"Think, Eivor. While Sigurd and Styrbjorn squabble, the clans will look to us to lead. Styrbjorn will lose support, Sigurd will divide loyalties, and you and I will symbolize peace and unity."

Eivor's heart thundered. "Are you suggesting we seize power for ourselves?"

Randvi shook her head. "No, not unless you wanted to."

"Unless I wanted to?"

Randvi scoffed. "You are a leader, Eivor. It's clear as day." She said, handing her knife back. "Sigurd has traipsed across the world for two years, Styrbjorn leads his clan from above. Behind a table. Stoic and dispassionate and cold. The face this clan sees every day, working for them, pushing them, serving them, is yours."

Eivor's gaze grew dark. "I will not betray my brother."

Randvi raised her chin, searching Eivor for an answer. She wasn't sure if Randvi found it. "Then, we must be clever."

"By gaining support and loyalty through a smokescreen marriage?"

"I stand by my suggestion. We move the wedding up, give the people something joyful to think about and work towards. Your people will naturally gravitate towards you. But when you throw your support behind Sigurd, the people will rally behind you, and thus, him."

"Then we must deal with Harald Fairhair."

"We ride the winds behind Styrbjorn's deal. Harald will not know that Sigurd disagrees. Until it is time to defy him, we enjoy his alliance and protection."

Eivor nodded, looking over her wife-to-be. "You are quite wise."

Randvi smirked. "The time will come for you to prove yourself to me, Wolf-Kissed. Until then, it is in both of our interests to work as a team."

Chapter Text

Eivor tried to gasp for air as quietly as she could as she stood beside Randvi at the docks. She'd sprinted across Fornburg the moment she heard the horn announcing the ship's arrival.

"I always find it quite impressive you manage to sweat so profusely in this weather." Randvi quipped, eyes never leaving the approaching ship.

"That is not Styrbjorn's ship," Eivor responded. She could try and defend herself against Randvi, but she knew in truth that Randvi was wittier. When she found Randvi in these moods, she knew there would be no winning.

"I believe it is his son's."

Eivor let her fingers trace the handle of her dagger at her belt. "We have three days before Styrbjorn is to return." Eivor said, watching the thralls rush to dock the ship. Sigurd stood tall at the helm, voice booming directions and orders to his raiders. Two men stood beside him. Eivor did not recognize these men, they wore strange and expensive clothing.

"We have a plan." Randvi said lightly. "We have time."

Eivor looked to Randvi. "Not much,"

"Enough,"

"You are insufferable." Eivor grumbled.

"You drive me mad." Randvi retorted, scowling at Eivor.

"I could choke you-"

Randvi smirked crossing her arms to turn fully to Eivor. "I wouldn't be opposed."

Eivor groaned, throwing her hands into the air and storming across the docks to climb upon the ship and greet her brother. "Insufferable!" She called back. Randvi's answering laughter echoed across the docks and Eivor felt heat rise on the back of her neck.

Sigurd turned, even through his stormy mood, he greeted Eivor fondly. "We have much to talk about." He grumbled lowly.

"Come, brother. Meet Randvi, she knows best how to handle Harald."

"This woman is to be your wife?" Sigurd asked, following Eivor from the ship down to the docks. "She's quite beautiful." Randvi spoke idly to a raider from Sigurd's party. He flexed and grinned down at her, though she paid him little mind. She smiled politely at his clumsy boasting, and her eyes drifted from him to Eivor over his shoulder.

There was a gleam in her eye that Eivor was beginning to know well. She had been so serious when they first met, though over the weeks Eivor recognized a playfulness and cunning side of her that she kept well in check.

A small smirk played at Randvi's lips and Eivor watched with amusement as she leaned into the raider, running her fingers down his arm and making an exaggerated show of noticing Eivor. "Eivor, darling, this must be your brother. I have heard many great things about you, Sigurd."

The raider stiffened, and Eivor kept a straight face as he turned, all color drained entirely from his face. "Eivor! Lord Sigurd-"

Randvi stood just behind him, out of his sight, her playful gaze met Eivor's. "Peace, Arne, she is toying with you, you fool." Sigurd grinned, clapping Arne's shoulder and sending him on his way. "Randvi, it is my honor to meet an impressive woman such as yourself." Sigurd seized her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles.

Randvi's eyebrows raised. "The honor is mine, Lord."

"Please, we are to be family."

"Sooner than intended," Randvi fluttered her eyelashes. "Eivor and I have moved our wedding to the beginning of the summer season."

Sigurd turned to Eivor, surprise written across his face. "Why is that?"

"We should discuss this privately." Eivor said, glaring at Randvi. "We are short on time."

Sigurd's mood darkened. "Let us meet at the longhouse. I have more to add."

It took another hour for Sigurd's raiders to settle into their responsibilities hauling their riches across Fornburg and claiming the glory of two years of raids.

Randvi lounged in her normal seat at Styrbjorn's war table while Eivor paced behind her. "Eivor, you must sit down."

"I don't understand how you are so relaxed."

Randvi hummed. "I have a big strong warrior at my beck and call. Why should I worry?" Randvi simpered, tossing a smirk over her shoulder. "You're here too."

Eivor paused in her pacing, conflicted. Randvi was pleased with herself, she could tell. It was time to knock her down a peg. Eivor approached Randvi, a dark look in her eyes. Her smirk faltered as Eivor leaned in, inches from Randvi's nose. Her arms caged her between Eivor's chest and the table. "What was that, darling? Who is this great warrior? Perhaps I should defeat him for my bride's honor."

Randvi's eyes widened, caught off-guard. "I've yet to see you in battle, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor grinned. "We have time."

Randvi opened her mouth to say something when Eivor heard boots approaching. She moved away from her bride and took a seat at the table just as Sigurd entered the room. He grumpily moved to his father's traditional seat at the table and scattered the letters he brought across the table before Eivor and Randvi.

Eivor leaned forward to begin speaking when the two strange men from the ship entered as if they 'd been given permission. "Good, we're all here. Please, sit." Sigurd gestured to the men as they settled across from Eivor and Randvi.

"We have not met." Eivor grunted, eyeing them distrustfully. Randvi placed a hand upon her thigh for just a moment before she knit her hands together in her lap.

"It is a pleasure to meet the two of you." Randvi corrected Eivor's tone stiffly. "Sigurd, this matter before us-"

"I trust Basim and his apprentice Hytham with my life." Sigurd interrupted. "They have urgent matters to attend to here in Norway."

Eivor straightened. "If you are sure, brother."

"We have heard much about you, Eivor Wolf-Kissed." Basim spoke, his accent curling around the words in a strange and unfamiliar way. He regarded her with a strange intensity that set Eivor on edge. "It is to our understanding you are hunting Kjotve the Cruel."

Eivor stiffened, and Randvi touched her knee again. "I am, our jarl is participating in a summit with a neighboring king regarding an alliance against Kjotve."

Basim nodded sagely. "We will be delighted to assist in defeating Kjotve." Basim waved his hand towards Hytham. "My apprentice here will complete the kill-"

"Kjotve's head is mine!" Eivor growled.

"Peace, Eivor." Sigurd waved his hand again. "You will have your chance at revenge. You may kill Gorm Kjotvesson."

Eivor ground her teeth, and ignored Randvi's tightening grip on her knee. "What claim to his life could they possibly have?" Eivor snapped.

"We are members of a worldwide brotherhood. Kjotve serves a dangerous order intent on controlling the world. It is our duty to eliminate his threat." Basim explained, eyes never leaving Eivor.

"Kjotve deserves to die by my blade."

"Eivor," Sigurd warned. "Kjotve poses a wider threat than the one to your pride."

Eivor gaped at her brother. His nerve and disregard for her life's mission, one he had helped her work toward all their lives, shocked her. "You-"

"We are appreciative of your support, Hytham." Randvi spoke over her, shortened nails digging into Eivor's knee beneath the table. "We would appreciate any information you may have, Basim. Styrbjorn Jarl is negotiating with King Harald as we speak. A concerning deal, which we should go into detail about before we make any moves or plans against Kjotve." Randvi turned to Sigurd. "This deal especially will concern you, Sigurd."

"Eivor explained some in her letter." Sigurd warned Eivor against speaking out with a glare. "I would like a full explanation from you, Randvi. Eivor mentioned you have a plan."

Randvi glanced to Eivor, a ghost of a smile gracing her lips before she met Sigurd with a serious gaze of her own. "Styrbjorn will be offered a deal with King Harald. Abdicate his throne to Harald and receive protection and wealth spread throughout the Raven clan as subjects of Harald's rule. The alternative is to allow Kjotve's wolves swallow Fornburg whole."

Sigurd's lip curled into a silent snarl. "That throne is my right."

Randvi raised an eyebrow. "Yes, well Styrbjorn intends to release his seat of power to Harald. The deal will be made at the end of the summit, but it won't be announced fully until Harald has met our demands."

"Your demands?"

"Styrbjorn will not vow fealty until Kjotve is dead and the Wolves weakened. The Wolves, in turn, will be conquered by King Harald, and their threat to Fornburg and its allies will be eliminated."

Sigurd stroked his beard with a ring-laden hand. "I will not see my throne traded away."

Randvi tilted her head and Eivor bit the inside of her cheek. Randvi was unimpressed. "Let us discuss our plans against Kjotve."

Eivor frowned at the knife in her hand. After weeks of planning, weeks of tension between Styrbjorn and Sigurd, her wedding was only a few days away. She sat upon the wooden steps leading to the door to her small hut in the center of Fornburg. She was in the middle of fletching dozens of arrows for herself and her warriors in preparation for their confrontation with Kjotve.

"You look troubled," Randvi said. Eivor startled, she hadn't noticed her betrothed approaching.

Eivor blinked up at Randvi. She stood before her, hands on her hips, the sun behind her made a fiery halo around her head. She'd heard some about the Christians in far away lands, and the way their god stood tall above his subjects, shining in golden light. Eivor could imagine Randvi raising her chin, staring down with ice-cold, blue eyes as she whisked away fallen warriors to Valhalla. Eivor would follow without hesitation.

Randvi watched a moment, her eyebrows slowly raising as she waited for Eivor's acknowledgement. Eivor cleared her throat. "Yes, well, yes," She stuttered.

"What bothers you?" Randvi took a seat beside Eivor, plucking an arrow from Eivor's finished pile and mercifully fixing her attention upon the fletching. "You seem angry."

"I am,"

Randvi turned. "Why?"

Eivor pursed her lips, avoiding Randvi's eyeline. "I am angry, because I am not."

Randvi's eyebrows shot up. "And I suppose that makes sense to you."

"I mean to say, I should be angry. I am, but mostly I am grateful. And I'm angry that I feel grateful." Eivor through her hands into the air, tossing her half-finished arrow to the ground and handing the knife off to Randvi to continue her task.

An amused smile grew on Randvi's face. "I thought Tekla's brew wasn't to be ready for another two days."

Eivor bumped Randvi's shoulder. "It is difficult to explain."

"In truth, it's difficult to follow."

Eivor heaved a sigh. "Would I be married had my father not laid down his axe that night?" She began. "My mother was an accomplished shield maiden, my father a strong chieftain. As Varin's daughter, would I have given my life to another in exchange for a profitable alliance?"

Randvi pulled Eivor's unfinished arrow from the dirt, she handled Eivor's whittling knife much more gracefully than Eivor did. "So you are angry because you are to marry me?"

Eivor deflated. "No, that is precisely why I am not angry." Eivor avoided Randvi's surprised gaze. "You are not as intolerable as I expected."

Randvi snorted. "Thank you for your approval."

"Think this way," Eivor tried to explain again. "I am grateful that I am to marry you, and not some other stranger. Especially not a man with a delicate ego."

"So you are angry that I am not some man your jarl has decided he wanted for a son."

"Yes," Eivor furrowed her brows. "No,"

"Which is it?"

"I am grateful that you are here, Randvi." Eivor turned to her, finally catching her eye contact. "I am angry that I had to lose my family to meet you."

Randvi nodded slowly. "You feel as though you shouldn't be grateful your own father did not make a match for you. But you are."

Eivor sighed in relief. "Yes,"

Randvi was silent a moment, making marks in the arrow in her hands. "The nornir carved our fates into the stones below Yggdrasil long ago." She said. "Your father made his choice that night. He forfeited his life so that you may live yours. You do not disrespect him by living contentedly."

Eivor twisted her fingers in her lap, focused intently on not looking at Randvi. "My mother would have loved you dearly." Eivor was careful not to witness whatever reaction Randvi had to that statement. "My father and I would have known not a moment of peace."

Randvi's shoulders shook with laughter. "Is that how you see me, Wolf-Kissed?"

Eivor smirked to herself. "Troublesome? Yes,"

"Good," Randvi smiled.

"And you?" Eivor asked after a moment. "Are you ready to marry me?"

Randvi whittled for a few more seconds before she looked up to watch the bustling of Fornburg before them. "My sister hates you."

"I gathered that."

"She thinks you're a hot-headed fool," Randvi explained. "Eivor Wolf-Kissed of the Raven Clan. Your reputation as a talented warrior has spread far and wide across Norway."

"That doesn't-"

"You're brash." Randvi said. "You may have the skill to back it up, but you're cocky and that will put you in danger. And when Kjotve has hunted you down, he will turn to me. Thora does not like that idea."

Eivor squared her shoulders. "I will not allow that to happen."

"Oh, so you do like me?"

"Was that not clear?" Eivor shrugged. "This may be an unusual match, but you will be my wife and it will be my responsibility to care for and protect you."

A small smile played at Randvi's lips. "I don't need your protection."

"But you have it."

"I'm honored," Randvi simpered. "My sister arrives tomorrow. How are you to convince her you will make an honorable wife?"

"Perhaps a good word from someone she trusts?"

Randvi laughed. "Oh no, this is your battle, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor shook her head. "Then I will fight it alone."

The Reindeers arrived prepared for a wedding, but they brought along raiders to train alongside the Ravens. Styrbjorn and Sigurd only barely kept themselves in check before Raudkarr and his clan. Eivor and Randvi, in the meantime, spent every waking moment entertaining and preparing for their vows.

When they weren't actively preparing for their wedding, or in Eivor's case, to sail towards Kjotve's stronghold days later, Eivor and Randvi spent their time studying maps and planning the siege.

More than once, Thora snapped the two of them awake with an annoyed clap of her hands. Randvi would fall into Eivor's lap at the sudden loss of Eivor's shoulder beneath her cheek. The two would stammer and ramble to Randvi's sister about their plans, and she would glare down at Eivor as if she'd somehow taken advantage of Randvi.

One such instance, Randvi buried her face in her hands. "For the Gods' sake, Thora." She muttered. "You have to stop waking us. I haven't slept."

Thora shook her head and crossed her arms. "We have much to prepare for, Randvi. You can't get distracted."

"I'd hardly call this a distraction." Randvi argued, Eivor shifted awkwardly, Randvi hadn't properly moved from her side. "We cannot lay siege without rest."

Thora's eyes shifted from Randvi to Eivor. "And you?"

Eivor blinked. "She's warm." She said, immediately cursing herself for her own stupidity.

Eivor didn't have to turn to Randvi to know she was going to never hear the end of this. "The wedding is tomorrow, Thora. Relax, there will be a great feast, perhaps you will find a fitting match among the Ravens as well." Randvi's voice shook with barely concealed mirth. "But only if you remove that stick from your asshole."

Thora scoffed and retreated, leaving the two to untangle themselves from each other. Randvi worked her fingers through her hair and straightened her braids while Eivor slouched in her own seat. "Warm?"

"Your sister despises me."

"The great Wolf-Kissed, felled by my little sister." Randvi teased. "I'm exhausted."

"Go, get some rest. I will finish the plans and send Dag his orders." Eivor offered. "The wedding preparations are in place. There's nothing more to do."

Randvi nodded, stifling a yawn. She patted Eivor's shoulder and left the room to head towards her own sleeping quarters in the longhouse.

"I swear before the Gods, on this day, to protect and honor you as my wife, Randvi." Eivor declared before her entire clan. "I present to you my prized axe as a gift and token of my devotion."

Eivor did struggle to make eye contact with Randvi for most of their ceremony. Randvi wore a beautiful dress, adorned with beads and silver and gold. Her hair was done specially, twisted and braided into place to reveal a slender, pale neck. In Eivor's darker, poorly controlled moments, she imagined love-bruises littering her throat.

Randvi accepted the gift, and gestured to Thora for her own offering. Thora stepped forward with a shield in her hands. Randvi took the shield and presented it to Eivor. "I offer to you, Eivor, my loyalty. A symbol of this loyalty, I present to you a shield so that you may protect us and our home."

Gunnar, an officiant both clans could agree to, not least because Eivor insisted, clapped his hands together and finished the ceremony, gesturing for the two to exchange their bodily vows. Eivor leaned down, and Randvi pulled her the rest of the way.

Randvi's lips were soft and pliable beneath Eivor's own. Eivor knew she was at risk of Randvi recognizing her racing pulse, but when the whistles and cheers began, they pulled apart. The kiss over almost as soon as it began.

"Let us feast!" Styrnjorn announced, clapping Raudkarr's shoulder.

"There will be changes in here." Randvi slurred her words as she wandered about Eivor's home in Fornburg. "Your organization skills leave much to be desired, darling."

Eivor couldn't quite respond, the room was spinning too fast. She made a beeline straight for the bed of furs and she collapsed onto her back in the center of the bed. Her legs hung off the edge, her boots still laced to her feet. "I suppose I do not have much of a choice?"

"The Wolf-Kissed can learn!"

Eivor snickered into her palm, a wheezing giggle became a full-chested guffaw as Randvi wandered slowly to the bed. She crouched to unlace Eivor's boots, and once they were off, she nudged Eivor with her foot. "Move over, oaf."

"The room is pitching too fast. We are not at sea, are we?"

"Move," Randvi shoved Eivor again.

Eivor managed to roll to her stomach and crawl onto her side of the bed, Randvi collapsed with a sigh. "You're very demanding."

"And you're drunk."

"There are too many of you, one is enough."

Randvi giggled rolling to look at Eivor as she lolled her head to the side to regard her new wife. "I thought the great Wolf-Kissed could hold her mead. I'm disappointed, Eivor."

"I'm still awake, aren't I?"

"Barely," Randvi snickered.

Eivor rolled her eyes, though she couldn't quite open them again to continue their conversation. The bed shifted and Randvi pressed a kiss to her cheek. "What was that for?" Eivor couldn't be sure her question came out in anything resembling a language.

"I am grateful that you are a not a man with a delicate ego."

Eivor fell asleep, a small smile playing at her lips.

Randvi knew how to raise helheim, that was certain.

"Eivor, talk some sense into her!" Sigurd boomed. Styrbjorn regarded the women with little interest.

"I have directed these scouts and spies for months now, when's the last time you spoke to one of them?" Randvi cocked a hip and Eivor played with the corner of a sheet of parchment before her.

"Directing spies and waging war are not comparable!"

Eivor leaned forward. "Randvi, please, take a seat."

Randvi leveled Eivor with a glare so heated she was surprised she did not combust then and there. "I-"

"Sit,"

Randvi rolled her eyes, but took the seat offered to her. She crossed her arms and refused to let up on her angry stare at her wife.

"Sigurd," Eivor turned. "We need every axe. Randvi's strategic mind is unmatched. Leaving her behind would be foolish." Randvi glanced between Eivor and Sigurd with surprise. "The scouts and spies trust her, and they follow her command to the letter."

Sigurd steamed. "Fine," He looked to Randvi. "You will stay out of the way of the warriors. Direct your scouts and spies. We will expect a report when we arrive."

"Yes, Lord." Randvi spoke to Sigurd, but her eyes never left Eivor.

Chapter Text

The sea-salted wind whipped her hair about her face and she could feel her lips chapping already, but despite it all, Eivor could finally breathe again. She stood tall at the helm, one foot dangling loosely as she propped herself against the serpentine figurehead. Her eyes scanned the horizon, and though her mind should be present and focused on the possibilities of oncoming dangers, Eivor's gaze continued to find its way back to the redhead lounging not far from her as she shuffled papers that were perilously close to flittering away in the breeze.

Her wife was headstrong, stubborn, and most importantly, a pain in the ass. But Eivor found herself already quite fond of her. She was smart and tougher than she let on, Eivor could only regard her with the utmost respect.

Eivor frowned down at Randvi as Sigurd paced on the other end of the boat. His path was short and clipped, for lack of space. Randvi and Sigurd did not get along, and that posed a difficult conundrum for Eivor.

Every now and then, Randvi's eyes would drift from her letters, and Eivor would only realize she'd been staring in the first place when their eyes met. The corner of Randvi's eyes would crinkle just so, and Eivor would find herself too distracted to pretend she hadn't been looking.

After the third time or so, Randvi raised a challenging eyebrow in Eivor's direction, and Eivor finally hopped down to approach. She squatted before Randvi and peeked at the sprawling handwriting on the page between them.

"You're quite at home at sea." Randvi said, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"The wind calls to me, I think." Eivor murmured. "You're hard at work, I see."

Randvi hummed. "Yes, well, someone needs to make sense of these reports. Our scouts are only as useful as the questions we ask."

"You are not subtle."

"About?"

"Your distaste for Sigurd. He is a good man and he will make a good king."

Randvi pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the writing, though her gaze stopped moving with the flow of the words. She was no longer reading, simply staring at the page. "I'm sure that he is."

Eivor glanced over to Sigurd and back to Randvi. "He underestimates you."

"I suspect I will be disappointed by the both of you come the dawn of our siege."

"Why me?" Eivor scoffed. "I thought we'd come to an understanding between us."

Randvi scowled down and refused to make eye contact with Eivor. "The measure of a warrior does not just lie in battle. But in those they choose to fight for."

Eivor blinked. "You think Sigurd is an unworthy jarl?"

"He isn't a jarl, Eivor." Randvi reminded her. "His father is set to abdicate the throne that Sigurd claims his power from. Yet, you follow him blindly. Why?"

"He saved my life, many years ago. And since, he has been my loyal brother and confidante."

"What do you think of Basim?" Randvi asked, a sudden change in direction Eivor wasn't prepared for.

Eivor's hands came together and she adjusted the strap of her hidden blade, a blade she kept purposefully in plain sight, and she frowned. "He is a strange man. Sigurd trusts him. I trust Sigurd."

Randvi nodded. "Be careful, Eivor. It is too convenient these men appear hunting the same thing we are, loyal to your brother, and yet so secretive."

"What about Sigurd is setting you on edge?"

"Call it instinct."

Eivor nodded slowly. "You don't trust Sigurd."

Randvi worried at her lip with her teeth, before finally nodding her agreement.

"Do you trust me?" Eivor asked.

Randvi's lip looked ready to bleed before she finally heaved a sigh and nodded again. "I do. I don't wish to regret it, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor leaned in closer, she held Randvi's gaze with all the intensity and sincerity she could possibly muster. Randvi's eyes widened slightly, but she watched Eivor just as closely. "I am not asking you to trust my brother, Randvi. I trust my brother with my life. I am asking you to trust me."

Randvi opened her mouth to argue and Eivor cut her off with a slight wave of her hand. "I trust you as well. And should you discover my brother truly traitorous, I will stand at your side, as I have vowed before the gods."

Randvi seemed at a loss for words. Eivor would assume for the first time in her life. "I understand."

Eivor nodded silently, and turned to move from her position, but Randvi stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. "I don't trust Basim."

"Do you know why?"

Randvi's eyes wandered to the horizon beyond the sea. "He has given us no reason to trust him or what he says as truth. Sigurd trusts him completely, but he has made no effort to appeal to the clan."

Eivor scowled at the deck between Randvi's feet. "I don't know what happened those years away."

"Neither do I, a wise leader would ensure his people trust his advisors as much as he does."

Eivor tilted her head up to watch Randvi's expression scrunch and smooth out as she thought hard about whatever she thought about when Eivor was around. "What are you thinking about?"

Randvi allowed her gaze to return to Eivor's, giving her a clear view of the troubling thoughts plaguing Randvi's mind. "Keep your axe sharp."

Eivor nodded once and returned to her post at the head of the serpent.

Eivor and Randvi had little time to speak between their individual duties preparing for the siege. The troops gathered at a port controlled by King Harald just to the north, they would set off by noon to arrive at Kjotve's stronghold by nightfall.

Eivor barked orders to the raiders rushing about, the tension in her shoulders impossible to ignore. By dawn tomorrow, Kjotve would be dead, or Eivor would be feasting in Valhalla.

"Eivor!" A voice called. Eivor paid her no mind, continuing to haul crates from their ship and directing raiders. "Eivor!"

Eivor finally turned. "Sunniva, I have other things to do, you know Randvi-"

"It's her." Sunniva panted, coming to a stop beside Eivor. "Randvi went off with another of the scouts. Kjotve's men are monitoring the port. The scout is back but Randvi was left behind."

Eivor swore. "You!" She grabbed a raider's arm and yanked him to a stop. "Direct the raiders to prepare for the siege." She snapped, shoving the crate into his arms.

Eivor turned and pushed past Sunniva. "Find Sigurd, tell him what's going on. Where's this scout?"

"He didn't make it." Sunniva said darkly. "He was injured escaping."

Eivor ground her teeth as they maneuvered through the port. "Where did he say she was taken?"

Sunniva gestured with her chin forward and they marched away.

Eivor was angry enough that she was surprised steam didn't rise from her body as she stalked through the underbrush of the surrounding woods. Their spies were not talented warriors, but they were not defenseless either. Randvi's spy ran when he should have stood to fight, and now Eivor stood to lose the Reindeer Clan's alliance. A marriage that lasted less than a week? They would string her up by her neck and let her sway in the wind for nine days and nights.

They couldn't spare anyone for a rescue mission, and Sigurd had caught up to Eivor just in time to dress her down and insult her skill. It took every ounce of her control not to knock him flat on his ass. Instead she'd explained in no uncertain detail the danger of allowing her wife to be captured and killed by Kjotve's men and what that meant for his own claim to power.

She would kill anyone who got in her way.

The Wolf Camp was not far from the port, and Eivor cursed their spies' competency. The camp was large, and bustling, and well-guarded. How the spies had missed such an encampment, Eivor was unsure. Randvi was a talented spymaster and such a mistake casted doubt on their spies' loyalty.

Eivor cut through the bushes towards the back of the encampment. She slipped under the slightest opening and dashed across the open space between tents to reach the largest tent settled in the center of camp. She slipped a dagger from her belt and made three quick gashes in the back of the tent.

She found herself crouched beneath a desk set to the backside of the tent. On the other side, a cage stood, three figures slumped inside. Eivor recognized the bright red hair of her wife from afar, though, and took the momentary absence of guards to dart out and to the padlock of the gate.

"Eivor?" Randvi whispered, shuffling forward.

"The others?"

"Dead," Randvi glanced to the other two in her cage. "Dead when I got here."

"Come then, we have to go." Eivor muttered, the small blade of her skinning knife fit within the padlock and she worked to pry it free.

"Quiet, the guards are nearby-"

"Then stop speaking." Eivor glared.

Randvi's lip curled slightly, though her irritation disappeared when the padlock burst apart and Eivor pulled open the gate. She stepped through the gate, and in a flash of movement, ripped an axe from her belt and sent it sailing through the air.

Eivor turned to watch her own axe embed itself into the skull of one of the guards. Randvi killed him before he could so much as recognize her escape.

Eivor fetched the axe from the guard and handed it off to Randvi, along with an extra dagger. "For your offhand,"

Randvi nodded, accepting the weapons just as they heard shouts from behind the tent. "Time's up," Randvi muttered. "They found your little incision in the tent."

Eivor shrugged, pulling a larger Dane axe from her back. "Stay close, we leave out the front."

Randvi gestured with her chin to the tent entrance, and together they leapt through, axes at the ready.

They didn't have much choice when it came to annihilating the entirety of the camp. They were incredibly lucky, and Eivor took more than one hit meant for Randvi. But had they left survivors, it would be quite likely that their port would be attacked and their siege plans reduced to ash.

They took the time to loot some of the camp. It was only after killing the guards that Eivor recognized the axe in one guard's hand.

"This was my father's." Eivor muttered, Randvi glanced over her shoulder in curiosity, but left Eivor to her ruminations.

Eivor reached for the handle of the axe, and flashes of visions she hadn't seen in anything but dreams appeared before her eyes. She blinked once, and they were gone, replaced by the gory mess she and Randvi left behind.

Eivor and Randvi returned to the port, drenched in blood, without much fanfare. Many had no idea either of them had been missing, and without missing a beat, they pushed forward into the final preparations together. They would have time to lick their wounds on the boats.

Eivor kept close to Randvi for the final hour they spent at port. Randvi, to her credit, seemed uninterested in letting Eivor out of her own line of sight.

Sigurd pulled Eivor aside, and Randvi stood far enough away not to hear their exact conversation, but closely enough that Eivor could meet her eyes.

"You went after her?"

"I was very clear with my intentions, Sigurd." Eivor snapped back. "Our alliance with her clan is not stable enough to allow her to die."

"You disobeyed my orders-"

Eivor raised a hand to stop him in his tracks. "I made vows to the gods to protect her." She muttered. "I will not place your pride above her life."

Basim approached quietly, and at his sudden presence, Sigurd threw his arms into the air. "Just get on the damn ship!"

Eivor turned then, caught Randvi's eye, and gestured to the ship. Randvi followed silently as they settled in around their warriors, and the war horn sounded. Thralls pushed them off into the waters, and the warriors set their sights on Kjotve's stronghold.

Randvi sat to the side, picking at the blood beneath her nails. Eivor gave her final orders, and then wandered to her side. They sat together in relative silence, neither really willing to break it for the sake of a discussion.

Eventually, though, Randvi turned to Eivor. "Sigurd ordered you not to come after me?"

Eivor pursed her lips. She shook her head, avoiding Randvi's inquisitive stare. "He insisted I focus on the siege preparations. That we would find you afterwards."

Randvi nodded slowly, sucking a breath of air through her teeth. "That does little for my faith in him."

Eivor silently agreed. She would never say so aloud, but to leave someone so important behind with a slim chance of finding them later, it was a foolish move that called into question Sigurd's rationale. "You fight beautifully."

A smirk played at Randvi's lips, though she mercifully decided not to comment. "I've finally seen a hint of the Wolf-Kissed legend. Impressive indeed." The playfulness melted from Randvi's face. "Sigurd risks the loyalty of his people making decisions like that."

Eivor nodded grimly. "We will defeat Kjotve, our people will surge in support of his leadership and when Styrbjorn abdicates his throne, Sigurd can rally our people around his latest victory. We just need to defeat Kjotve."

Randvi inspected her nails again, careful to hide her eyeline from Eivor. "I should thank you. You defied your Lord to free me."

Eivor grinned. "Don't take it too personally." She mumbled. "The wrath and havoc Thora would invoke upon your death is not appealing to me."

Randvi smiled. "Is that the only reason you find my death unappealing?"

Eivor shrugged. "No."

Randvi paused, waiting for Eivor to elaborate. When she did not, she shook her head as if to shake the thoughts from her skull. "Tonight, Kjotve dies, not by your hand. What will you do next?"

Eivor frowned at her feet, considering the visions returning to her mind with the discovery of her father's axe. "I'm unsure. I will find some purpose or other to live by."

The celebratory feast was one for the ages. Though Basim was subdued, Valka joined the celebrations shortly after ensuring Hytham's survival. Eivor nursed the same horn of mead throughout the night.

Sigurd had disappeared shortly after the festivities began, a beautiful woman on his arm, and Eivor took to sulking in the corner. Dag did his best to entertain their allies while their fearless leaders, and heroes of the hour, were too sour to dance and revel in victory.

Randvi socialized graciously. Eivor noticed she rode a thin line between pleasant hostess and boastful wife, but Eivor couldn't bring herself to come to her side.

It took only a few hours before Eivor was able to slip away unnoticed. Synin recognized her poor mood and kept his distance, and Eivor took the time to wander unseen through Fornburg.

King Harald's men, the escorts at least, would stay happily in the longhouse until their king summoned them home. Eivor suspected they would be permanently stationed there. Randvi's clan filtered among them, and Eivor knew they would travel home in the coming days. These strange men that Eivor didn't know were scattered across town, in varying stages of drunken disorder. They called to her in congratulations, in pride, in song, as they competed in flyting stories of the great Wolf-Kissed and her brutal and swift defeat of Kjotve the Cruel.

Normally, Eivor would swagger by and bathe in her moment of glory. She felt empty instead.

When she arrived at her home, and Randvi's home, she had to remember they shared her space now, she dumped the remainder of her half-empty mead by the door and shouldered her way inside.

She didn't expect to see Randvi sitting cross-legged on their bed. Her hair was wet, but loose around her shoulders as she worked a comb through her fiery waves. She looked up and Eivor froze, unsure what to say, partially because she and Randvi were still new to each other's moods. Also, partially because Randvi was a beautiful woman sitting on her bed and it made her slightly dizzy, even without the mead.

Randvi tilted her head, regarding Eivor like a particularly interesting puzzle. "You don't seem quite as merry and drunk as to be expected, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor frowned at her nickname, usually a point of pride and identity. It made her lip curl tonight. "Gorm escaped."

Randvi hummed, returning to her combing. "Is that really what bothers you?"

Eivor wanted to pout childishly at the ground and whine about being interrogated. But she figured that wouldn't make her point as efficiently as intended. "Nothing bothers me, I have defeated the biggest threat Norway has faced in hundreds of years."

Randvi stared at Eivor, cool and unimpressed with Eivor's deflection. "Your characteristically roguish smirk is missing. I'd almost hazard to say that you miss the hunt."

Eivor grumbled to herself under her breath. Finally, she sighed and met Randvi's eyes. "I am unsure about sleeping tonight."

That seemed to catch Randvi off guard. Her eyebrows shot up, and a flash of interest entered her gaze. "And why is that?" When Eivor failed to explain immediately, Randvi shifted to her side of the bed and gestured with her chin for Eivor to take a seat.

Eivor finally pushed forward into their home, and took her time taking her seat beside Randvi as she combed her hair. Without much to do with her hands, Eivor gently took the comb from Randvi and moved to comb the tangles from the locks she'd not reached yet. Randvi hummed again, tilting her head to allow Eivor better access.

"They call me the Wolf-Kissed because of this scar on the side of my neck." Eivor tilted her head so that Randvi could better see the scar that Eivor knew she'd seen before. "The night Kjotve raided Heilboer and massacred my clan, Sigurd rescued me and we rode away towards Fornburg. But one of Kjotve's men chased us and the horse collapsed. Sigurd fought the raider, and I fell over the side of a small cliff onto a frozen pond. There, a wolf attacked. When his teeth sank into my throat, I saw visions. Unexplainable visions from the gods. They haunted my dreams for years following that night." Eivor took a breath. "When I found my father's axe earlier, the visions returned."

Randvi inched closer so that Eivor had a better angle to the hair closer to her scalp. "And you are concerned they will appear in your sleep?"

Eivor hesitated. "Yes,"

Randvi tilted away, resting her fingers on Eivor's hand holding the comb. She moved so that her eyes could meet Eivor's frustrated gaze. "Go to Valka." She said, a gentleness Eivor was unaccustomed to in her voice. "She is your good friend, yes? Trust her in this, she is a talented seer."

Eivor furrowed her brows, watching Randvi for the moment she thought less of her for her pathetic fears. "You are right."

A twitch of Randvi's lips told Eivor that she had a sarcastic remark aching to be unleashed, but she kept it at bay, and a rush of affection filled her chest. "You shouldn't worry, darling." Randvi said lightly. "You have seen my skill with an axe today, but with my hammer I am as fierce and bloodthirsty as you are."

In a moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability, Eivor let herself feel small. "You will wake me?"

Randvi shifted closer, pressing her lips to Eivor's cheek. "Yes, I will wake you."

Chapter Text

Betrayal.

That word echoed through Eivor's head every waking moment as she and Sigurd danced around the inevitable. Styrbjorn planned to announce his loyalty to King Harald in a few short weeks, at the coming Althing.

Sigurd, on the other hand, was ready to burn Fornburg to the ground rather than see it handed over to the Unifier of Norway. Sigurd's frustration tended to provoke Randvi's ire and disdain, and Eivor, a veteran of Randvi's disdain, pitied him. She made his life difficult, and despite her loyalty to her brother, she felt a sense of pride.

Yet, betrayal hung low over her head. Valka had interpreted her visions as an omen. Eivor would rather bare her neck to Sigurd's axe than to betray him and his trust. She'd kept this bit of information from Randvi, she suspected Randvi would not take well to Eivor's pre-destined fate souring the alliance the both of them had sold themselves to each other to forge.

She had no choice, she would do anything to avoid betraying her brother. She would dodge her fate if it killed her.

Sigurd took to holding quiet and subdued meetings in the longhouse when Styrbjorn was not around. Eivor joined him at every meeting, Randvi occasionally attended to report on Styrbjorn's movements. But the vast majority of the time, Eivor, Basim, and Sigurd were alone.

It took three weeks before Sigurd recognized the inevitable.

"I think it's time we take our people and settle land elsewhere." Sigurd spoke lowly, frustration dripping from every syllable. "My father will not see reason. We will gather those loyal to me, and sail in two days."

Eivor's eyebrows shot up. "Two days is not enough time, brother."

"We don't have much of a choice." Basim spoke. "Styrbjorn will surely not appreciate this betrayal."

Betrayal.

"Where would we go?" Eivor demanded. "There will be nowhere safe in Norway where King Harald cannot reach!"

"England," Sigurd answered. "We sail to England to settle land alongside the Ragnarsons. The land is fertile, the people wealthy, and we will have allies easily at our side."

Basim and Sigurd launched directly into planning their departure. Eivor sat for a moment, how would they get the word out? And who would join them? Would they simply leave behind those who wouldn't?

"You are ahead of yourselves." Eivor said quietly, finally looking up as silence fell between the three of them. "Will the treasures you brought home be enough to pay for the ships and the rations we need? You are asking our people to leave behind their homes to follow you with half a plan!"

"Peace, Eivor." Sigurd raised a hand in placation. "We have more than enough to procure supplies. Basim has spoken with many of the people living in Fornburg. Living under Harald's rule is universally disliked! We will spread the word quietly, and we will set sail in two days. Can I count on your axe at my side?" He eyed her with suspicion, and Eivor set her jaw.

"Always, brother."

Betrayal.

Eivor came to the realization that she would have to talk to Randvi on her way towards their home late that night. She nearly tripped in her dread and a squawk high above her from Synin sounded suspiciously like laughter. She suspected her wife would not appreciate such a huge decision without her consultation.

Upon entering, she found her home to be empty, and Eivor curiously wandered inside. Randvi had fully taken over the desk with her notes and letters, though Eivor didn't mind. She rarely used the desk anyway.

She set about lighting the hearth and cleaning up as she waited for Randvi to return. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as time marched on and the tension built in her shoulders.

The door swung open, and Eivor startled slightly from her leathers. Randvi winced in apology and moved to unlace her boots. Eivor openly watched her as she struggled to pick her words.

"Your anxiety is choking me. What is it?"

Eivor rolled her eyes. "I'm not anxious."

"You're watching me." Randvi said without looking up.

"You were out late." Eivor diverted the conversation, she knew there would only be a few more minutes before Randvi grew too impatient and she would be forced to get to the point.

"Much to do when double-crossing your jarl."

Eivor pressed her lips together when Randvi surfaced from her boots, one eyebrow ticked up as she waited for Eivor to spit it out. "Sigurd has made a decision."

That caught Randvi's attention. She fully dropped her faux disinterest then and came forward to stand closer to the hearth. "What do you mean?"

Eivor deflated. "Sigurd intends to gather his supporters and sail to England, where he would settle a new clan and carve out a home there."

A flash of anger crossed Randvi's face before she calmed herself enough to respond. "And what did you say?"

Eivor stood then, unsure if she should be prepared for a fight, or to run. "I tried to buy time, but he is intent on this."

"What did you say?" Randvi gritted out between her teeth.

"That he will always have my axe." Eivor admitted.

Fury, pure, flaming fury ignited in Randvi’s gaze. "You are truly unbelievable." She growled.

"Randvi-"

"I agreed to all of this for the sake of my clan, with the understanding that this was a unique arrangement." Randvi's voice grew louder with every word. "We were to be equal in our marriage, we were to unite our clans and build a life we could both tolerate!"

Eivor, unsure if she should step forward to placate her wife, or step back to give her space, remained rooted to the floor. She'd never quite seen Randvi enraged. Though she was a great and powerful drengr, she imagined Randvi would tear her to shreds with sheer force of will.

"You want to abandon our home and drag me away to a far away land to follow your impulsive brother- you best have a better reason than loyalty." Randvi spat.

Eivor opened her mouth, then shut it again. Finally, after a few breaths, and to be sure Randvi was done, she spoke calmly. "It was an impulsive decision. I did not think. But Randvi, I think this is an opportunity for us as well. With Sigurd as jarl, and a home we call our own, we would be powerful, and wealth is not in small supply in England." She took a hesitant step forward, when Randvi did not attack, she took another. "With Styrbjorn's throne abdicated to Harald, your clan will follow suit, and be protected as well. Our marriage will serve its purpose there too, Harald will honor our alliance."

Randvi shook her head. "You are asking me to sacrifice the last of what I have left."

Eivor's shoulders slumped, but she reached out to brush her fingertips across Randvi's shoulder and touched the fur there anyway. Randvi tensed, and then seemed to relax just slightly under her fingers. "Come with me to England, I can promise you riches and power." Eivor tilted her head as Randvi frowned at her words. "I will do everything to make you happy."

Randvi finally met her gaze, and Eivor was startled to find tears in her eyes. "What choice do I have?" She whispered. "You have chosen your jarl. If I stay, what will be left for me here? A jarl who will never trust me, a family I cannot provide for, a clan left in shambles."

Eivor gently brushed the tears from her cheeks as they began to fall. "I will never ask this of you again." She murmured. "You will make no more sacrifices. You will live selfishly and comfortably, and I will ask nothing of you in return."

Randvi seemed to lean into her touch, even as her eyes closed and she pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. "When do we leave?"

With little control over her own impulse, she stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Randvi’s forehead, letting her lips linger against the skin there. "Two days."

Randvi swore, but said nothing else, and they stood together before the hearth for quite a while after.

Freezing rain and tall waves lashed the ships as they sailed. Weeks at sea kept her people restless and irritable, and Eivor was no exception. Sailing with inexperienced crews meant mistakes that could cost their lives.

Eventually, the storm died down enough for Eivor to rest. It had been all hands on deck, and she wandered towards the sleeping area of the ship to find Randvi settling in against the bow. She visibly shivered and Eivor could sympathize.

Eivor found a singular fur that had managed not to become completely soaked through and hoped it would be enough. Quietly she crept towards Randvi and when she looked up blearily, Eivor offered an apologetic smile and draped the fur over her.

Randvi tucked herself deeper underneath, fully aware that she was in possession of one of the scarcest resources on board: dry fur. She nodded to Eivor, gesturing with her chin to the space beside her, and Eivor took a seat.

"A peace offering?" Randvi asked, though her voice shook from the cold.

"You were cold."

"Everyone is cold."

Eivor shrugged. "I can't help everyone warm up."

"Just me?"

Eivor nodded, crossing her arms across her chest and trying desperately not to give away her own shivering. Randvi, ever observant, caught on anyway. She offered one end of the fur to Eivor, and with only a slight hesitation, Eivor scooted closer to her side and beneath the fur.

Immediately, the warmth settled over her and Eivor felt the tension in her shoulders and back release. "You work harder than anyone else, I'm surprised to see you resting at all." Randvi muttered, their faces so close Eivor could feel her breath tickling her cheek.

"There is still much to do." Eivor whispered. "But even I cannot do everything."

"I maintain that this is madness." Randvi said, shuffling beneath the blanket. Eivor startled slightly as cold fingers found her own. Eivor let Randvi take her hand, and they sat for several minutes quietly as the ship rocked on the still choppy seas.

"It is madness." Eivor finally admitted. "But I cannot allow my brother to sail away with only a stranger to watch his back. No matter how much he trusts this stranger."

Randvi let out a jaw-cracking yawn, shaking her head at Eivor's admission. She said nothing, instead she settled in to rest her head against Eivor's shoulder to presumably fall asleep. Eivor adjusted to sling her arm around Randvi's waist and knitted their fingers together with her other hand. Randvi heaved a quiet sigh and quickly, Eivor was asleep.

Eivor never struggled for sleep, even wedged between Randvi and whatever Raven collapsed to her other side as they repaired the longhouse. Days of labor and physically demanding work kept her busy from dawn until dusk, and nights sleeping on the longhouse floor left Eivor exhausted and ready to fully settle in. Sigurd admirably kept up morale with his boisterous attitude and vigor, but turning Ravensthorpe from an abandoned forward camp to a proper home required resources and organization, and that was where Randvi excelled.

With Sigurd's approval, Randvi directed Eivor and her raiders to nearby monasteries and bandit camps, easily flushed out and pillaged by fearsome Danes. When they returned from their raids, it was Randvi organizing their people into something resembling a working community. Eivor did her share, of course, with Sigurd's unbound optimism, the townspeople sought solutions to their problems with Eivor. Randvi steered the ship, and Eivor put out the fires.

When Sigurd offered Eivor and Randvi a room in the longhouse to stay, they eagerly accepted, one less building they would have to work towards constructing. Though they accepted and used the room, they didn't fully furnish it until most of the other townspeople had at least more permanent tents to live in. This was simply in their nature, to put others before themselves.

A fully repaired longhouse, most of the town under construction, raiders and traders off procuring resources for further growth, Eivor only found time for herself after several weeks. Randvi took to disappearing around the settlement, it was never hard to find her, but it was increasingly difficult to get a word in without interruption from others.

So, after a morning of fishing and running errands, Eivor finally took to one of her favorite pastimes.

"Watch! The ugly draugr will eat us!" Sylvi called out.

Eivor groaned and roared, lumbering towards the kids with outstretched arms and a vicious snarl on her face.

"Wait!" Knud dove forward and snatched up a stick. "This draugr is no match for Knud Strong-Arm!"

"Strong-Arm? Wouldn't you want to be Raven-Feeder?"

"Roar!" Eivor said, mostly to keep from laughing.

"Yeah, Knud Raven-Feeder!" Knud agreed, lifting his stick-sword against the Eivor-Draugr. "Go back to Helheim where you belong!"

Eivor dodged Knud's first swing, she couldn't let them defeat her so easily, and swiped up Eira onto her shoulder. She let out a squeal and Knud lunged again. Eivor growled, spinning away and swiping at Sylvi. She managed to slip away from Eivor, and she tumbled to the ground behind Knud in a fit of giggles.

"Eivor!" A voice called from the side.

Eivor turned, eyes settling on Randvi, watching her with a strange look on her face. Eivor shrugged, jostling Eira on her shoulder.

"Come, Gunnar needs to speak with you." Randvi grinned fondly, apologetic to the kids for taking away the beast they were meant to slay.

They groaned sadly as Eivor set Eira down with a chuckle. "Come now, go play among yourselves. There is much to do around Ravensthorpe."

That's about when Knud poked Sylvi with his stick, and the three launched into a bickering fight that quickly devolved into a game of tag. Eivor watched with a smile as the kids ran off, and Randvi cleared her throat to catch her attention.

"Apologies, Randvi. They're distracting little ones, aren't they?"

Randvi stared at Eivor a beat too long, before she cleared her throat again. "Yes, I'm sorry to take you from your game." The corners of Randvi's mouth twitched up into a small smile that jumped Eivor's heart straight into her throat. "Gunnar is concerned the fires of his forge aren't getting hot enough. He has a few suggestions for what he needs you to find for him."

"I'll speak to him now." Eivor nodded, walking alongside Randvi towards Gunnar's forge. "Quite busy running a settlement."

"Yes, many moving parts." Randvi agreed. "You're good with them."

"With who?"

"The children, the townspeople, everyone." Randvi shrugged. "But I meant the children."

Eivor grinned. "It's rare I get to be silly with them. I take the chance when I can."

"It's endearing."

Eivor swore she broke out into a nervous cold-sweat at those two simple words. Eivor rarely felt nervous about anything, but when it came to Randvi and compliments, she'd come to expect a dig at her other traits to go along with it. This time, none ever came.

The rest of the walk, though short, was rather amicable, and Eivor quite liked the silence between them. Finally, they were comfortable together in a way they hadn't been before.

Chapter Text

Eivor was never oblivious to others and their internal lives. In fact, she was always rather observant and attuned to how others felt regarding her roles within the clan. Some believed she overstepped her bounds as a drengr from another clan behaving as Styrbjorn's child. Others believed her to be a competent leader and strong warrior worthy of Norway's glorious sagas.

In Sigurd's absence, even Styrbjorn looked to Eivor to fill his role as a noble and raider. Now, in Sigurd's absence from Ravensthorpe, the clan looked to her to lead them to safety and comfort in these strange new lands. In Sigurd's absence, Eivor was not oblivious to Dag's simmering irritation at her power over him. Another overstep made by a woman who did not know her place.

It wasn't until Randvi summoned Eivor, not Dag, to her war room in the longhouse to discuss their first potential alliance that Eivor realized how precarious her position among her people truly was. Randvi briefed her alone, but Norvid, Sunniva, and Dag were not included in their discussion, and Eivor briefly wondered how this would shift her reputation among her people.

"Eivor, are you listening?" Randvi leveled a flat glare at her from across the table.

"Yes," She muttered, staring down at the map between them to keep her faux attention believable. "This jarlskona, Soma, what do you know of her?"

"She is an impressive warrior and even more impressive leader. Grantebridge has thrived under her care." Randvi rolled her eyes. Eivor would admit she barely absorbed any of the information Randvi spouted so fluently.

Her words fell away into silence, and Eivor studied the map without seeing it. "I do not understand Sigurd's decisions." She blurted out, catching Randvi just slightly off her guard.

Randvi hesitated. "I would advise you not to question his decisions or authority so early into our settling here." Randvi watched her every movement like a hawk circling her prey. "Sigurd is not his father. Questioning his leadership will not be met with the same patience."

Eivor crossed her arms, finally leaning back from her inattentive staring at the map. "Why not allow Dag his chance to lead? He will resent me."

Randvi leaned against the table, mercifully pulling her gaze from scrutinizing Eivor. "Your friendship with Dag has always been strained, has it not?"

Eivor shrugged, finally allowing herself to properly pout at the floor.

"Perhaps Dag must forge his own path." Randvi shrugged one shoulder, busying herself with letters and notes. "When will you leave for Grantebridge?"

"First light tomorrow." Eivor muttered. "We need open trade routes and an ally nearby for protection. These Saxons are not fond of us."

Randvi nodded. "Best prepare then. I have other matters to attend to."

Eivor took the dismissal for what it was. She headed through the longhouse, past Sigurd's empty seat, and made her way towards Gunnar's forge. She would need her weapons in their best shape for her journey beyond Ravensthorpe's borders.

Dusk settled across Ravensthorpe and those with permanent homes found their ways to their families, wandering slowly and bidding farewell to their neighbors. Many wished Eivor safe travels as she moved towards the longhouse with the rest of her clan for a hearty meal before a night's rest. She would leave for Grantebridge in the morning.

Their evening meal was silent, perhaps tense, though Eivor couldn't quite explain why. Only a few of the Ravens ate with Eivor and Randvi in the longhouse. By the end of the meal, most of the others retired to their homes and Randvi disappeared into their shared quarters.

Randvi had been impossible to find or speak to all day following their conversation about Grantebridge. Eivor wasn't sure what it was that she did to deserve such silence, but it grew to be rather frustrating by the end of the day.

She tossed her dishes to the side and rolled her shoulders, readying herself for a fight. About what, she couldn't say, but she was sure there would be an argument waiting for her.

Eivor paused just before the door, took a breath, and pushed through.

Randvi sat along one side of the bed. She'd fully undressed and now wore her undershirt and underclothes. She'd kicked her boots off to the side and folded her outerwear atop the chest at the end of their bed. She lounged backwards onto her hands behind her, and her long legs crossed before her. Her head hung low. She was the embodiment of stress, and Eivor felt the urge to go to her side.

She closed the door instead. At the clicking of the lock, Randvi looked up, their eyes met, and she trained her eyes back onto the wooden wall before her. Eivor took a few steps further into their quarters. "You've been quite busy, Darling."

Randvi's shoulders tensed at the nickname. They'd taken to calling each other with terms of endearment, though to Eivor, some of the irony had already begun to fade. Randvi's hands came up to her hair, her nimble fingers undoing the braids and slowly revealing red waves across her shoulders. Eivor watched, entranced.

"There is much to do, running a settlement in the absence of your jarl and his noblemen." She muttered, running her fingers through her now-loose hair.

Eivor took another step forward and Randvi sprung up from the bed, launching herself into a frantic pacing route before her. "My scouts have warned me of bandits along the road to Grantebridge. Thieves and Saxons. And you are going alone."

Eivor's eyebrows shot up, and she let a small smirk grow across her lips. "Are you worried for me?"

Randvi halted her pacing, back turned to Eivor. "You don't understand at all, do you?"

Eivor shrugged, though she knew Randvi wasn't looking. "What bothers you?"

She shook her head, red waves bouncing, and though Eivor knew Randvi was upset, she grew distracted. "You have to come back alive."

Eivor's smirk grew. "That is my intention, yes."

"I'm serious, Eivor." Randvi's voice wavered. "You have brought me to this strange land so far away from my home. Your brother flits about the world like he is not tethered to a clan that relies upon his leadership. If you were not to return I'd-" Randvi paused, taking a shaky breath. "I'd be forced to remarry to survive. I'd have no way home to Norway, no guarantee that Sigurd would acknowledge my status. What could I possibly do other than to find the nearest eligible match? And there would be no guarantee, no- there would be a large possibility he would not be so kind."

Eivor's smirk fell from her face as Randvi muttered, possibly more to herself than to Eivor. "Randvi-" Eivor began quietly.

"What is it, Eivor?" Randvi rounded on her wife, her eyes were wild and lips trembling. Eivor wasn't sure if she would snarl or sob. "What is it?"

Eivor tilted her head, her brows coming together. She moved closer, pulling Randvi into her arms by her waist. Randvi's hand came up to Eivor's chest, fingers resting along her collarbone. "I will not let that happen."

Tears welled in Randvi's eyes as she searched Eivor's gaze. "I can't do this without you."

Eivor pressed a kiss to Randvi's forehead. "You won't." When she pulled back, Eivor smiled gently. "I will be back as soon as the alliance is secured. I am the legendary Wolf-Kissed, it is not my destiny to die running errands for Sigurd."

Randvi's fingers twitched against Eivor's collarbone, she fisted the fabric there and hauled Eivor's face down. Eivor gasped into the kiss, and Randvi pulled away almost as quickly as she'd pulled Eivor in. She moved to step away, but Eivor held her firmly in place.  She stole another, longer kiss, stomach flipping at the gentle sigh escaping from Randvi's lips.

They stood together, wrapped in each other for what felt like hours. Enough time for the fire in their hearth to dim. Eivor's hands roamed, just a little. Randvi whimpered when Eivor's calloused palms brushed across her bare thighs. It only encouraged her more as she nipped at Randvi's bottom lip.

Eivor pushed Randvi's undershirt up just enough to spread her fingers across her bare hip and inch upwards, enjoying the soft skin beneath her touch. Randvi let out an airy sigh, and all at once Eivor came to her senses.

She pulled away, taking a small step back, though she couldn't quite bring herself to fully release Randvi. Her skin was too soft, too inviting, to willingly relinquish so soon.

Randvi's lips tried to follow Eivor as she stepped away, and had she not opened her eyes, she would have drawn Eivor right back in without even trying. Instead Eivor could see the confusion give way to insecurity across Randvi's face.

"I-" Eivor tried to speak, but nothing came forth.

"Eivor, please." Randvi whispered, she brought herself flush to Eivor's chest. She strained upwards to trace Eivor's jawline with her lips. "It's been so long without another's touch."

How could Eivor deny her wife anything?

There was a new fervor to her touch as she walked Randvi backwards to their bed. Eivor quite liked the way she hummed when she sucked at Randvi's pulse point. She liked the hitch of her breath as she palmed her ass, and the frustrated little huff she let out when Eivor pulled away.

Eivor pushed her back until Randvi sat upon the bed, and she looked up at Eivor, doe-eyed and needy. Eivor took just a moment to strip herself of her armor and outermost layers, but by the time she reached her undershirt and pants, Randvi was done waiting. She pulled Eivor towards her by the waist, and with one hand, lifted the hem of her shirt.

Her lips trailed up, tracing the tattoos across her abdomen. Eivor groaned as Randvi's tongue followed the muscled alleyways of her stomach. Eivor's hands tangled themselves into her hair and she tugged her back enough to look up at her. Randvi's eyes had darkened with hunger and arousal, and Eivor found herself quite ravenous.

Randvi's lips parted enough for the tip of her tongue to dart out and wet her bottom lip, and Eivor could no longer resist. She stooped to meet Randvi's lips with her own, drinking in the soft little moans coming from Randvi's throat as Eivor's grip in her hair tightened.

Randvi squirmed in her seat, her hands came up to fumble with the ties to Eivor's pants, though she was ultimately unsuccessful. Eivor pushed her hands away with her free hand, and firmly pushed her thighs apart. Randvi whined pathetically at the lack of friction between her legs, and Eivor smirked to herself.

Mercifully, Eivor sank to her knees before her wife. She finally released her tight hold on Randvi's hair and brought her lips to the inside of her thighs. Eivor started a trail of kisses from Randvi's knee up her thigh, almost to where she needed Eivor's lips the most, and back down to the other knee. Randvi's breathy whimpers did little but to encourage Eivor's teasing and Eivor brought her gaze up to watch Randvi's chest heave.

She wanted Randvi completely bare before her, begging for a release that only Eivor could give her. But she would be kind. With a firm hand on each thigh keeping her still, Eivor kissed a path ever closer to Randvi's center.

One of Randvi's hands gripped at Eivor's braids, not quite pulling, but anchoring herself to reality. Eivor dragged her tongue through Randvi's already wet folds, a path from her center up to her clit, and her grip tightened almost painfully. Eivor let out a groan, and it was her turn to squirm uncomfortably, searching for friction she couldn't quite reach.

"Eivor!" Randvi yelped as the tip of Eivor's tongue flicked against her clit.

With a smirk, Eivor repeated the motion, enjoying the way Randvi's thighs tightened around her head. She devoured Randvi with purpose from then on, watching from between her thighs as Randvi threw her head back with a high pitched cry.

Each press of her tongue hitched Randvi's voice higher in pitch, and by the time her thighs began to tremble, Eivor was moaning alongside her. Randvi ground down onto Eivor's tongue as she neared her climax, and Eivor's final warning was a brutal twist of the fingers in her braids. Randvi came undone with a rush of wetness between her legs that Eivor eagerly lapped up.

As the aftershocks faded, Randvi tugged Eivor back up to her lips. Randvi sighed into the kiss, tracing her fingertips across Eivor's cheek and ignoring the smear of her own slick across her face.

"I'm not done with you yet, Darling." Eivor husked into the space between them.

Clearly, Randvi wasn't quite ready to form words just yet. Instead, she moaned into another kiss and brought her still trembling fingers to struggle against the ties of Eivor's pants.

At Randvi's prodding, and after a quite embarrassing whine, Eivor pulled away with a smirk. "Off. Now." She murmured to Randvi, tugging at her undershirt.

Eivor unlaced her boots and untied her pants rather quickly, and by the time she was removing the last layers of her clothing, Randvi was completely bare, laying back against the furs. A pretty flush filled her cheeks, and Eivor felt her mouth go dry at the sight of her breasts bouncing with every heaving breath she took.

This woman was like no other. Eivor truly believed herself to be favored by the gods solely for this privilege. She'd only seen the Christian places of worship during her raids, where they pillaged whatever gold they could find and set alight any buildings nearby. But she knew of the rows of pews before the Christian God that they would kneel between to worship their all-powerful deity. She'd never understood the need to grovel at the feet of a man who could offer her nothing but favor. But in this moment, she did understand. She would do anything for the woman in her bed just for the chance to please her.

Eivor wasted no time joining Randvi on the bed, meeting her kiss-bruised lips hungrily. Eivor felt her skin ignite with each brush of Randvi's fingertips. She traced the ink marked across Eivor's chest and shoulders, and when Eivor groped her breasts, Randvi's nails raked down her muscular back.

Randvi's hands roamed down Eivor's body, and the moment she recognized Randvi's intentions, Eivor pinned her hands back to the furs. She hummed her disapproval, grinning wolfishly at Randvi's growing frustration.

"You are insufferable." Randvi muttered.

A deep, low chuckle vibrated in her chest, and Eivor kissed along Randvi's cheek. "My wife asked me to care for her." She husked, moving to nip at Randvi's earlobe. "I take this solemn duty quite seriously."

"Then get on with it."

"Demanding," Eivor smirked as her fingers met the slick between Randvi's legs. Randvi let out a guttural moan and her eyes rolled backwards as her lashes fluttered shut. Eivor withdrew her fingers just as fast, clicking her tongue. "Eyes on me, Darling."

Randvi's glare lacked its usual heat, and arousal simmered low in Eivor's gut even as Randvi tugged her hair. "Don't tease me, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor had to remind herself that this was more for Randvi's pleasure than her own, she would be kind to her. Only after she'd finished playing with her food, of course. "You aren't in charge." She whispered. "I am."

Randvi surged forward into another kiss, only to force a gasp from Eivor with a vicious bite to her lower lip. "Like that, Darling?" Randvi said, a faux innocence to her voice that brought a grin to Eivor's face.

She tasted blood, but she was far too fond of her rambunctious wildling of a wife to care. Finally, she acquiesced, trailing her fingers through Randvi's folds once more. Still, Randvi did as she was told. Her breath fanned out between them as she panted, and though her eyes were fogged with lust, she kept them open.

Eivor's fingers met no resistance as she buried them up to the knuckles in Randvi's cunt. Randvi's eyelids fluttered, but she managed to keep her eyes on Eivor as she fucked her slowly. Her hips canted up with each thrust, and Randvi muttered unintelligible sounds, interspersed between whimpered pleas and Eivor's name. Her pupils were blown so wide, Eivor could hardly make out a thin ring of blue, but she would be damned by any god listening if she tore her eyes away.

A pretty blush darkened across Randvi's cheeks as the temperature between them ratcheted up, and Eivor dipped her head down to lick the sweat from her throat. "Gods, Eivor!" Randvi's voice grew hoarse, and Eivor recognized the needy plea for what it was. She picked up the pace, thrusting harder and letting Randvi grind into the heel of her palm.

Between Randvi's desperate panting and the filthy slick sounds between them, Eivor could feel herself growing wetter with every breath. Randvi, usually quite rebellious, kept her gaze obediently trained on Eivor. Her lips parted and her moans grew louder with every thrust, and Eivor was acutely aware that this perhaps was one of the more erotic moments of her life.

Now, Eivor had plowed plenty of women throughout her life. From pretty noblewomen looking to piss off their fathers or husbands to shieldmaidens bedded in a frenzied battle-lust, Eivor had never grown so desperate for her partner's touch. Randvi's breasts shifted with the force of their fucking, and normally, Eivor would suck and tease her nipples with her tongue as she fucked her, but Eivor couldn't relinquish eye contact with Randvi. Even as she fell apart beneath her fingers, a moment usually far too intimate for Eivor to maintain anything resembling sincerity, Eivor couldn't focus on anything but the fluttering of Randvi's lashes. Her teeth worried at her lip as she came, and while Eivor should have looked away, should have busied herself with some other aspect of Randvi's pleasure, she simply couldn't.

She could have peaked from the sight alone.

Randvi's hands came up to frame Eivor's face and guide her back down for a kiss, though their lips slid together, it was mostly a moment for the both of them to catch their breath. Randvi hissed when Eivor removed her fingers, just slightly overstimulated, but it did little to break the moment wrapped in each other.

Though she had said she would care for Randvi, Eivor couldn't muster much protest when Randvi's hands slipped down between them. Eivor had never felt so needy before, so completely vulnerable. Randvi would be her undoing, and by the gods she needed it now.

Eivor groaned as Randvi's fingers met her clit. Randvi wasted no time tracing tight circles around her most sensitive spot, and Eivor's hips bucked with every twitch of her fingers. Eivor moved to bury her face in the crook of Randvi's neck, but Randvi would have none of it. She grasped Eivor's jaw with her free hand and forced Eivor to look at her.

"Still in charge, Eivor?" Randvi's beautiful, swollen lips turned up into a cocky smirk, and Eivor was gone.

She came hard against Randvi, far too lost in her own pleasure to care much for the wetness dripping down her thigh and pooling in Randvi's palm. Randvi stilled, allowing Eivor to ride out her orgasm on her fingers until Eivor's strength completely left her.

Eivor rested her head against Randvi's chest as the final aftershocks rocked through her system. She shuddered as Randvi shifted, bringing one arm around her shoulders and the other to toy with her braids. It took several minutes for their breathing to fully even out. But once she'd come back to Midgard, Eivor shifted to fully lay on her own side.

Randvi, it seemed, couldn't keep her hands to herself. Instead she traced Eivor's tattoos absently, and tangled their legs together as she found a more comfortable position laying wrapped in Eivor's arms. Eivor didn't mind much at all. After all, a beautiful woman in her bed? In her arms? There was nothing in this world she could possibly complain about. Especially not when that woman happened to be Randvi.

The fire in the hearth had completely died by that point. Just enough light emanated from the smoldering embers that Eivor could see the glowing of Randvi's eyes, and the red tint of her hair. Though England was not quite so frigid as Norway at nights, Randvi pulled herself close and Eivor snickered at the sudden coldness of her nose pressed to her collarbone.

Eivor could feel more than see Randvi's answering grin. "What is it?"

"Are you cold?"

Randvi huffed, though good-natured, she still didn't approve of Eivor's teasing. "The fire's out." Her words slurred together slightly, and Eivor knew she was close to sleep already.

Eivor pulled away just long enough to pull a fur atop their bodies, and Randvi's irritated grumbling turned into a contented sigh. They enjoyed the silence together for some time before Eivor finally spoke. "You could have always asked, Randvi."

Randvi's answering hum held a questioning lilt. "I did, didn't I?"

"Before this."

Her wife stretched languidly, the last of her tensing muscles finally releasing, and she fully melted into Eivor's figure. "You could have asked as well."

"Perhaps I will again." Eivor ran a hand down Randvi's side, simply enjoying the softness of the skin bared to her.

"Insatiable."

"Not tonight."

"Good," Randvi whispered. "You have a long journey ahead."

Though Randvi's voice remained light and airy, Eivor could feel the muscles beneath her fingertips tense again. She traced invisible runes into her skin and sighed. "I will write. You will need to know of my progress."

Randvi pulled back, and even as the room grew darker, Eivor could see her glistening eyes reflecting what little light there was. "You will have to tell me what you see." She said gently. "My scouts told me of the Roman ruins, of great statues and coloseums and towers weathered away. You will tell me of them?"

Eivor nodded, pressing her lips to the space between Randvi's eyes. She didn't miss the way Randvi's eyes fluttered shut, nor the soft sigh escaping her lips. "I doubt there is anything in this world quite so magnificent as you are. Not possibly whatever these Romans left behind to return to the ground." Eivor pressed a kiss to the tip of Randvi's still-cold nose. "But I will bring back to you whatever beauty I find. Know that it will pale in comparison to the divinity in my arms." Eivor met her lips with the gentlest kiss they'd shared so far. She certainly didn't miss the twitching of Randvi's fingers against her collarbone before they traced up to grab at the soft hairs on the back of Eivor's neck.

"My mother warned me of poets like you." She murmured against Eivor's lips.

"What did she warn you about?" Eivor couldn't stop her burgeoning grin, even if she wanted to.

"That they make women like us fall in love." Randvi whispered and Eivor's breath caught in her throat. "And love is dangerous for women like us."

"And why is that?"

"It rarely lasts."

If Randvi had known just how impressive Soma would prove to be, Eivor suspected she would have wanted to come along to Grantebridge. Not least because of the call of battle, or even the fascinating plot against Soma's leadership by someone within her innermost circle. In her darker moments, Eivor would make a mental note never to let Randvi come face to face with Soma. Not because they would not get along, but because Eivor truly believed Randvi would easily leave her behind to elope with such a powerful, admirable warrior and leader.

These dark insecurities lessened after a long night drinking with Birna following their victory against the Saxon dogs. Every time Birna referred to her as "Sunbeam" made her eyebrow twitch just slightly, but quickly, Eivor was just as fond of Birna as she was Soma. It took little investigation to discover Birna's dedication to her jarlskona, but it also took little scrutiny to know that Soma was dedicated to Grantebridge, and to Grantebridge only. Eivor would extend an invitation to Birna to join her crew among the Ravens, and Birna would accept with an excited clap to Eivor's shoulder, just enough to spill her mead and start some competition that Eivor would not remember much of in the morning.

Eivor spent much of the ride back to Ravensthorpe allowing Birna to chatter, and in her head, she composed poems to impress Randvi with. She would speak of the ruins she'd seen and the battles she'd led to victory, of the interesting characters that crossed her path.

"Tell me, Sunbeam." Birna began, grinning wickedly at the telltale twitch of Eivor's eyebrow. "There must be someone back home warming your bed."

Eivor frowned. "A bold assumption."

Birna smiled easily. "I've known Soma for many years. That's the closest I've seen anyone come to catching her attention." Birna cut her clever eyes over to watch Eivor's reaction. "I've never seen a single soul resist Soma's advances quite like you."

"What advances?" Eivor scoffed. "She is a leader with a full heart for her people."

"And an empty bed she'd have invited you to visit."

Eivor rolled her eyes. "I doubt the truth of your claims, Birna. But if you must know, I do have a wife."

"A wife?" Birna asked, eyebrows threatening to disappear into her hairline. "That's quite interesting!"

Eivor dipped her chin into a nod. "An arrangement between our clans to ensure a strong alliance. She is the eldest daughter of the Reindeer Clan's jarl, and I the closest present heir to the Raven Clan."

"Still, quite an unusal match."

"We did what we could with what we had. Of course, my brother returned and our clan traveled to England not long after our marriage." Eivor squared her shoulders. "Our situation may be unique, but we are true to our word."

"And this wife of yours, what is she like? Must be patient, I'm sure."

That got Eivor to crack a smile. "Yes, she is. She would have to be, you understand."

"Must be tougher than Thor's balls to wrangle the Wolf-Kissed into something respectable."

If Eivor beamed with pride, even at her own expense, she would deny it. "She is clever. A brilliant strategist with a mind like no other."

"Ah, see, that explains it!" Birna said. "How could my little Sunbeam possibly consider Soma when her eyes sparkle only for her lover back home?"

"Our match is a political one." Eivor shook her head. "I am grateful that we are friendly. But there isn't love between us."

Birna's smile faded slightly, and there was a sympathetic glint to her expression. "Oh Eivor, for your sake, I hope that changes."

Chapter Text

It was quite late at night by the time Birna and Eivor arrived in Ravensthorpe. After settling Birna in the raiders' quarters, Eivor trudged towards the longhouse. The moonlight was the only way she could see her way home. Though Ravensthorpe was silent and still, with every step towards the longhouse, Eivor felt the air in her lungs expand just a little more. She could breathe just a little better.

She skipped scrounging for leftovers and made her way straight to her chambers. A glance to the side told her that even Randvi had retired for the night. Something she knew was a rare occasion.

The nights had grown colder, so it seemed Randvi made more of an effort to ensure the fire in the hearth had wood to burn. The flames themselves were small, but the light was enough to see her way around the room. Randvi had curled entirely into herself on her side of the bed, all the furs fully claimed, leaving Eivor's side bare.

Eivor smiled a little to herself at that. She'd sent word that she would be returning soon, but she hadn't given a timeframe. Perhaps Randvi simply didn't expect her that night. She supposed tonight would simply be a cold one.

She took her time stripping her armor and properly storing her weapons. She'd managed not to wake her wife so far, but the moment she sat upon the bed to unlace her boots and fully finish undressing, Randvi shifted.

She peeked from her self-made bundle, blinking blearily at Eivor. She offered an apologetic smile in return. "I did not mean to wake you." Eivor murmured. "Rest, darling."

Randvi blinked again, Eivor suspected that she was too tired to properly process her words. But to her surprise, Randvi turned to her other side, still tucked into the furs, but this time watching Eivor as she fully settled back home.

Eivor stretched her neck languidly once she'd kicked her boots off. Her pants were next, and when she removed her shirt to address her chest bindings, Randvi sat up. Eivor turned to watch her over her shoulder as Randvi's gaze narrowed on an impressive bruise blooming across her shoulder and towards her side. "You're hurt." She muttered, voice still sleep-addled.

Eivor shivered at her touch, Randvi brushed her fingertips across the bruise, so gently it nearly tickled. Goosebumps erupted across her skin when she felt Randvi's lips against her shoulder. "It's only a bruise. It doesn't hurt."

"Still," Randvi whispered against her shoulder. "Visit Yanli tomorrow. She will have a healer's salve."

Eivor turned then, she tried to smirk, though she was brave enough to admit that perhaps her smile wasn't as sarcastic as she meant it to be. She wanted to say something, tease Randvi for her concern. But the way Randvi's hands roamed her back, the way her fingers unwrapped her bindings for her, all the while placing gentle kisses across her bruised shoulder, left her breathless and a little dizzy.

There was no heat to her kisses. No intention to push Eivor further, it was a simple act of affection Eivor hadn't expected. But by the gods she loved every second. Once Eivor was bare, Randvi wrapped her arm around her waist, hugging her tightly from behind, and she rested her cheek against Eivor's spine. Randvi's face was hidden completely, and Eivor let her eyelids flutter shut as she let herself be held. Randvi traced runes lightly into her skin with her other hand. If Eivor had to guess, they were simple protection spells, something any Norse knew and tended to ink into their skin, or etch into weapons, or sew into their clothing.

Her head swam a little at such open affection from Randvi. She could only assume that Randvi had been lonely recently, and paired with exhaustion and the late hour, she let her guard down. Eivor would accept her care and concern. She could be selfish in this, even if Randvi would never express such fondness in the light of day.

"It's late." Randvi whispered. "The alliance is secure?"

"Yes,"

Randvi nodded, suppressing a yawn. "You mentioned a new friend would join us. Are they well?"

Eivor stretched, forcing Randvi to retreat. Eivor lounged back, helping Randvi untangle her mess of bedding and letting her wife settle against her chest. Once they'd settled fully into bed, Eivor yawned, humming an affirmative. "Her name is Birna."

"If I recall, she is a close advisor to Soma."

"You have an impressive memory." Eivor offered, closing her eyes and letting her muscles relax. "Yes, the story is long. I will give you all the details in the morning."

Randvi nodded, turning to press a kiss against Eivor's chest. "You promised me tales of grandeur."

Eivor let out a low chuckle. "At this time of night? Are you not tired, woman?"

"You promised."

"You'll be asleep before I can tell you anything."

"Tell me anyway."

"Randvi,"

"Eivor," Randvi mocked her tone. "Are you not true to your word? After all of this time?"

Eivor pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Troublesome." She pulled her closer to kiss her forehead. "Demanding." When Randvi lifted her chin, she met her lips with a content sigh. "Stubborn." She whispered against Randvi's lips, enjoying the way Randvi's grin stretched across her face.

"Aren't I always?" Randvi asked, stealing another kiss.

Eivor gathered Randvi in her arms, shifting her fully so that she could kiss her properly. Their hands roamed lazily against bare skin, but neither had much energy for anything more than enjoying each other's touch. Eivor started to suspect that perhaps Randvi craved closeness and affection more than she let on. She hadn't lost contact with at least one of Randvi's hands or her lips since sitting upon the bed. It surprised her, but Eivor let herself indulge. Though she hadn't recognized it, Eivor herself craved intimacy and affection just as much.

Eventually they settled back against each other and Eivor grinned up at the ceiling. "Sleep well, Randvi. We will speak in the morning."

Randvi nuzzled closer to the crook of Eivor's neck. "Goodnight,"

Eivor hadn't intended to sleep as late into the morning as she had. In fact, she didn't wake until the sound of Randvi's laughter filtered through the longhouse and into their chambers. Eivor blearily reached for her wife, only to find her side of the bed empty and cold.

It felt as though her joints creaked as she moved to sit upright. Her head throbbed twice before she finally caught her balance and dressed herself for the day. She left off most of her armor. She elected to dress casually, for work around the settlement, rather than for battle.

She entered the greater room of the longhouse still braiding her hair. She found Randvi sitting just beside Birna, laughing loudly at something their new raider had muttered to her. As the two settled again between jokes, their eyes fell to Eivor, and their grins matched too closely for Eivor to feel anything but dread. Perhaps inviting Birna home to Ravensthorpe would bite her in the ass.

"There she is." Birna smirked.

"Good morning, Sunbeam." Randvi's voice shook with mirth and Eivor rolled her eyes.

"I see you have met Ravensthorpe's newest raider." Eivor sighed, taking a seat across from her wife and swiping a piece of sweet bread from her plate.

"You spoke true, Eivor." Birna cut her eyes to Randvi. "Your wife is quite lovely indeed."

A pretty blush crept up from the back of Randvi's neck to her cheeks, though she grinned quite maliciously in Eivor's direction. "I hear you speak highly of me, darling."

Eivor truly wished for the ground to open up and swallow her into its depths. "Would you prefer I tell our new recruits of your demanding, stubborn attitude and habitual sarcasm?"

Randvi rested her cheek against her fist, eyes sparkling like she'd caught Eivor in a trap. "I recall you were quite fond of those traits of mine just this past evening."

Birna positively howled at that. Eivor grumbled to herself. This was all a mistake. It was not too late to drown herself at sea, however, she would have to take solace in that fact.

"My Sunbeam is grumpy this morning." Randvi simpered, laughing alongside a wheezing Birna.

Eivor struggled to maintain enough self-respect not to pout, though she was sure she wasn't successful. Birna and Randvi continued their ribbing for much of the meal before Eivor finally slinked off to find some sort of chore to complete. Maybe a hunting trip into the forest where she may happen upon a bear or a pack of wolves to tear her limb from limb.

"Hej, Eivor!" Eira called from the road as she swept a few loose leaves from the longhouse entrance. "Randvi sent me, she says that a ship from Fornburg has arrived! There are letters, and Valka!"

Eivor grinned widely. "Run along, I will follow soon."

She finished her mindless chore and headed straight for the docks. Randvi clutched a letter in one hand and directed the thralls in unloading the ship with poorly concealed excitement. Birna's voice boomed happily across the water as she jovially joined the raiders in caring for the sails and weaponry the thralls passed from the deck.

Valka greeted Eivor warmly. "My good friend, it is good to see you here in Ravensthorpe." Eivor rested a hand on Valka's shoulder. "Though I worry what this entails for Svala."

Valka's shoulders dropped slightly. "Yes, my mother has passed along from this realm. I am sad for her absence, but her life was a gift to all of us who had the privilege to know her."

Eivor offered her a sad smile. "Yes, she was. I am glad to have known her as well. Come, there is space for you. I will help you with your things."

The brief walk through Ravensthorpe with Valka was rather pleasant, and though Eivor had nothing to offer Valka except a large tent and a promise to expedite the construction of her new home, Valka accepted her welcome with grace.

"Tell me, Eivor." Valka leveled a knowing look at Eivor, an expression that Eivor always felt was capable of baring her soul and innermost thoughts. "Your visions, have they worsened?"

Eivor shrugged, wincing at the stretching of her bruise. "They remain. I am unsure how else to interpret our discussion. I will not betray my brother. But these visions are troubling. I see through Odin's eyes."

Valka hummed. "I would guide you in understanding these visions. But much of what I can do must wait until I have a more permanent home. Come to me when I am fully settled, and I will see to care for your hugr."

Eivor nodded, accepting the subtle dismissal and moving through Ravensthorpe back towards the longhouse. She had plenty of other chores to attend.

She met Randvi at the entrance to the longhouse, and with a tilt of her head, she allowed Randvi in first and followed quietly behind her. "You're quite excited." Eivor grinned as Randvi tossed a smile over her shoulder.

"I have a letter from Thora."

Eivor followed Randvi towards their chambers. "Valka will settle in nicely here." She said. "It is good to see an old friend, even under sad circumstances."

Eivor rummaged about in the chest at the end of their bed as Randvi tore open the letter. "I am grateful for a volva here in Ravensthorpe. I trust Valka, and perhaps with guaranteed peace and prosperity she can finally guide me through understanding these visions." Eivor spoke absently as she straightened up the small mess she made.

She nearly missed the small whimper from Randvi, and when she staggered to sit upon the bed, Eivor rushed to her side.

Eivor hadn't paid attention as Randvi read the letter from her sister, and based upon her reaction to its contents, Eivor was likely an ass for it. Randvi pressed her hand tight to her lips, and even through her tears she read the letter closely. Eivor kneeled before her. She wiped Randvi's tears away with her thumbs, but Randvi was far too stunned to tell her what could possibly render her so speechless.

"Randvi," Eivor said, trying to tamp down on the rising terror in her throat. "Randvi, speak. What happened? Is your sister well?"

Randvi's eyes slid from the letter clutched tightly in her fist to Eivor's worried gaze. She shook her head quickly, closing her eyes tightly against the tears. A sob choked out, and Eivor sprung forward to wrap Randvi into her arms sitting upon the bed.

"Is Thora sick?"

Randvi sobbed into Eivor's chest, leaving Eivor bewildered, and her shirt wet between them. She held her firmly in her lap, letting her shiver and cry. She'd never seen Randvi so emotional, even in her more vulnerable moments, this was serious.

She finally collected herself just enough to speak again. "Thora is fine, my mother fell ill. She passed on from Midgard a fortnight ago." She hiccupped, fingers tightening in the fabric of Eivor's shirt.

Eivor froze. "Oh, Randvi."

The sobbing returned, and Eivor let Randvi curl in on herself in her lap. An arm wrapped tight around Randvi's waist kept her anchored to Eivor, and she let her other hand come up to soothe at the soft hairs on the back of her neck. Randvi freely lost control of herself as she nearly screamed in Eivor's arms.

Randvi grieved in silence for nearly two full days before she finally turned to Eivor one night as they sat in bed. Eivor reviewed letters and reports from scouts. She'd been sure to run off demanding residents and raiders looking for orders they could easily care for themselves, just so that Randvi would have some peace in the days following the letter's arrival. It was late that night, and though Eivor remained nearby, she hadn't pushed Randvi to speak.

"I will be leaving for Norway. Thora is to be married soon, and my father needs assistance ensuring the stability of the Reindeers now that my mother is-" Randvi stopped abruptly.

Eivor glanced up. "When should we leave?"

Randvi shook her head. "I will travel alone-"

"I'm going with you." Eivor shook her head in return, turning back to her reports. "I will send word to Sigurd, and Dag will have his taste of leadership."

"Eivor," Randvi said, voice growing sharp. "Ravensthorpe needs you-"

"Ravensthorpe needs you." Eivor argued, settling her papers in her lap. "Your family needs you." Eivor heaved a sigh, frowning at the scribbled print on the pages scattered across her knees. "I lost my family when I was young. I had Gunnar and Svala and Svend to grieve beside. When you return here, who will look at you and see you?"

Randvi sucked in a shaky breath as Eivor spoke. "I will be fine-"

"I have no doubt." Eivor murmured, finally looking to Randvi's unreadable expression. "Do not mistake this for pity, Randvi. You are my wife and- and my friend. The people here look to you for strength and leadership and your father's clan will do the same. But I will look to you as your partner, as your family." Eivor reached forward to brush the stray tears from Randvi's cheeks. "I will not ask you to be strong."

Randvi nodded, gaze bouncing between Eivor's eyes and her lips, before she surged forward into a tear-salted kiss. "Thank you," She whispered against Eivor's lips. Eivor stacked her papers upon the table beside their bed, and let Randvi crawl into her lap. For the rest of the evening, Randvi never lost contact with Eivor in some way or other, and Eivor was simply content to stay at her side.

Eivor grinned at the way Randvi shivered as the thralls docked their ship in the village Randvi grew up in. "England has made you soft to the cold." She murmured, rubbing her palms along Randvi's upper arms from behind. She gently rested her chin upon her shoulder as they drifted ever closer.

Randvi scoffed. Over the ten days since their decision to visit Norway, Randvi had slowly returned to her playful self. By no means was she happy, but she'd come out of her shock some. "No amount of punching and flexing will protect you either, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor planted a soft kiss to her cheek and stepped away, coming to stand at her side. "I see your sister waiting for us." Eivor furrowed her brows. "If I recall you mentioned she was to be married?"

Randvi nodded. "Her betrothed is a man we have known for a long time. He intended to marry her last year, but he left for raids before we could make proper arrangements. It seems he hadn't forgotten her while he was away."

Eivor watched Thora chat with the man she assumed would become her husband in the near future. "Is that how we looked before our wedding?"

"Hm?"

"Stiff and uncomfortable."

Randvi cracked a smile, waving at her sister. "Are you saying you're comfortable with me, Darling?"

Eivor rolled her eyes. "Perhaps just accustomed to you."

Randvi glanced to her, an eyebrow raised. "Sometimes I am confused by you."

"How do you mean?"

Randvi shrugged her shoulders. "You seem quite unaware of the world's contradictions, even less your own."

"I don't understand." Eivor shook her head. "You speak in circles."

"I'm smarter than you are."

"You are." Eivor readily agreed. "Explain, like I were a child."

"You believe your brother to be an honorable man and leader, yet he shirks his responsibilities. You believe my sister to be cold and calculating, though she would readily take a dagger to your throat on my behalf. You believe Styrbjorn to be foolish, even in the face of his best decisions. You believe what others say even when confronted with their actions. Tell me, Eivor, am I to believe you don't care for me while you stand beside me in Norway, prepared to comfort my grieving family?"

Eivor thought for a moment. "I know of my brother's flaws and your sister's loyalty and Styrbjorn's experience."

"And your love?"

Eivor pressed her lips into a line. "You may be smarter than I am, Randvi, but I am not stupid. People lie, and I put value in their actions. My brother saved my life, a thousand times over. Your sister thinks little of me in spite of my efforts. Styrbjorn allowed his people to be conquered out of fear. And you-"

Randvi's bright blue eyes turned on Eivor, waiting. "And I?"

"Your wellbeing is my responsibility."

Something changed then, in Randvi's expression. It closed fully off, and the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. Eivor was struck with the distinct impression that perhaps she'd fucked up something important. "You have plenty of other duties as well, a shame you prioritize your social obligations over the good of the settlement relying upon your leadership." Her tone was acidic, and Eivor felt cowed enough to remain silent.

Randvi and Thora's reunion was a rather emotional one, and though Eivor did not know the man's name, they clasped arms in a grim greeting. He seemed perfectly friendly, to Eivor, but the circumstances surrounding their meeting required solemn decorum.

Thora and Randvi pulled apart, and Randvi pulled her sister close to rest their foreheads together. She whispered something softly to her sister, and Thora nodded through her tears. Randvi wiped them away and pressed a kiss to Thora's forehead.

"It is good to see you." Thora mumbled, voice shaky as she held back tears.

"We intend to stay a few weeks. Mother would be happy that I will see your wedding." Randvi tried to smile.

That seemed to bring Thora back to the docks, she glanced to Eivor and frowned, though it lacked its usual heat. "Yes, I am grateful for this time with you. We need your steady hand. Da is- Da is not well."

Eivor looked from the sisters to Thora's fiancé, and he nodded grimly, as if to confirm Thora's words. Randvi shook her head with a sigh. "I wish I were surprised. She kept him steady." Randvi stepped away, clasping her hands before her. "How is Anarr?"

Thora sniffled, but nodded as if to brace herself. "He hurts. He has thrown himself into his training with the raiders. I can't get through to him. Even Mikjel has tried." She gestured to her fiancé.

Mikjel nodded. "I hoped his oldest sister could convince Anarr to step back. He will hurt himself if he doesn't train properly." He rumbled. He had a deep, hoarse voice, and his shoulders broadened as he puffed his chest out. Eivor suspected he was looking for a reason to feel important in a village that didn't need him.

Randvi pressed her lips together. "I will speak with him. Though, I'm not sure how much I could do."

Thora smiled slightly. "My fondest memories are of your nagging." She teased. "Though, Anarr may respond positively. I worry for him without mother's guidance. He expects to go on his first raid next summer."

"He has his father." Mikjel waved away her concern with his hand. "I and my raiders will be sure to watch after him."

Eivor wanted to roll her eyes. But she knew better than to openly dismiss him. Randvi would wait until a more opportune time to gut her for disrespecting him in front of her already-suspicious sister.

Thora gestured towards the greater village then. "Come, the thralls will care for your belongings. There will be space for you and Eivor in the longhouse."

Eivor followed behind the other three as they delved into a light conversation, mostly Randvi speaking of their travels across the whale road from England. She took her time to observe the village bustling around them. Though friendly faces stopped to greet Randvi and give her their regards, many stopped to stare at Eivor as she passed.

She supposed it had only been nearly a season since their Jarl's daughter left to marry the legendary Wolf-Kissed warrior from Fornburg, and since then she'd defeated their greatest threat and whisked their beloved Randvi off to a far away land. Her audience muttered quietly to themselves, and some were not quite so kind to keep their criticisms quiet enough.

Eivor Varinsdottir, the Wolf-Kissed, Kjotve-slayer, a woman with no respect to the expectations of her Jarl. The traitor to Fornburg, the warrior to abandon her father's home at the side of a brother with too much ambition and no desire to lead. Eivor could hear plenty of what the particularly angry Reindeers said about her amongst themselves.

Eventually, Randvi and Eivor were left to prepare themselves for a feast. A celebration of Randvi's homecoming and her mother's life, the village would drink and dance and mourn together.

Eivor hesitated at the door as Randvi worked her braids from her hair. Randvi, usually so warm and willing to engage Eivor in conversation, had been rather cool all afternoon, and Eivor still couldn't quite understand what she had done to deserve it.

"Your people are not fond of me here."

"Our people," Randvi said, a faux lightness to her voice that blared to Eivor a warning that she treaded dangerous waters.

Eivor cleared her throat. "Our people,"

Randvi took a seat on the bed to continue her gentle combing of her hair, though she wouldn't grace Eivor with an ounce of attention. Eivor shifted uncomfortably in the doorway before she finally shut the door completely. She stood stupidly in the center of the room, watching Randvi as she pretended to be relaxed and calm. Eivor knew her wife well enough by now that she could see Randvi was quite pissed.

A stiff, suffocating silence fell between them, and Eivor begged silently to the gods to relieve her of this discomfort. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you are angry with me."

Randvi scoffed, and it was incredibly apparent that Eivor had said the wrong thing. "Do you spend your days thinking of ways to show your ass or are you just that arrogant?"

This time, Eivor did roll her eyes. "Do you expect me to read your mind or will you communicate like an adult?"

Randvi let out a loud, sarcastic laugh, standing to face Eivor down. That enraged fire Eivor hadn't seen since they met that very first morning had returned, and Eivor wasn't sure what that meant now that they knew each other better than passing acquaintances keeping up pleasantries.

"How dare you," Randvi growled, approaching. "You ignorant, selfish prick, how dare you call me a child? I have given up everything, everything for you. You pat yourself on the back for a few weeks spent in Norway at my side, but don't act like this is altruism. You call me stubborn, but all you do is ask for more. And I give it to you!" Her voice cracked and she stopped just inches from Eivor's face. She punctuated every word with a sharp jab of her finger to Eivor's chest. "You want praise? I'm sure you'll find a willing maiden to fall into bed with you and scream her praise to the gods. Others to you are simply stepping-stones to glory, aren't they? Ways to preen and convince yourself of your own worthiness."

Eivor shook her head, brows furrowing as she watched Randvi rave against her. "I don't-"

"I wonder if you've ever cared about anyone besides yourself."

"What did I do wrong?" Eivor finally snapped. "You are impossible to please! What is it that you want from me? A home? I have given you one! A clan to defend you? My people would lay their lives down for you if you asked. Wealth? Gifts? I will shower you with silver and gold from every monastery and king in England!"

Randvi's lips trembled. "I want time."

That halted Eivor's rant. "What-"

"I want time, Eivor." Randvi shook her head, letting tears fall. "I gave you everything that I had. Everything. Including the last of the time I had left with my mother." She swallowed hard against the rising emotions, and Eivor wanted to sink to her knees before her, like a Christian begging for absolution from their God. "I thought, of everyone, you would understand."

Eivor felt like all of the wind in her lungs had been forcibly knocked from her chest. Her throat hadn't quite ached like this since the days following her brush with wolves the night Heilboer was attacked. The world seemed more illuminated now, looking at Randvi as she cried, partially angry and partially disgusted with Eivor for something she couldn't quite comprehend.

Randvi's eyes widened, and for a moment Eivor didn't understand why until she felt the wetness on her own cheeks. She brought her hands up. Randvi winced, likely expecting a strike, but Eivor grasped her face between her palms and forced her to make eye contact as she spoke. Her voice came out hoarse, almost wheezy, as she pushed through the swell of emotion she hadn't let herself feel in so long.

"I would slit open the veins in my own wrists to give you just one more day with her."

Randvi gasped like she'd been punched in the gut, and she doubled over with the force of her own sobbing. She cried hard enough that her knees shook and Eivor pulled her tight to her chest. She dipped down to hook her arm behind Randvi's knees, and she hauled her up to carry her to their bed with ease.

Eventually, Randvi settled into shivering, hiccupping heaving in Eivor's arms. And Eivor spoke quietly, though she knew Randvi could hear her. "You can hate me and want me gone. But you are mine to care for."

Randvi shook her head, though she refused to look at Eivor. She kept her face firmly hidden in the crook of her neck. "I don't hate you."

"Nor I, you."

"You would not be cursed to leave me behind here. I am broken and pitiful."

Eivor placed a gentle kiss to her head. "You are neither." Eivor hesitated. "I don't care about any vows to the gods." She whispered. "I vowed to you that I would protect and honor you. I will never break that vow."

Raudkarr was reluctant to allow Eivor into his war room with his daughters. Mikjel had assured her that Raudkarr was simply a private jarl. So, Eivor spent much of the first few days exploring their village.

The third day, she happened upon Randvi's youngest sibling, Anarr, training alone in the training pit. Many of the raiders had retired for the day, scattered to their differing tasks and duties across the village. Eivor took a moment to lean against the fencing and watch him hack savagely against the wooden targets with one of his axes.

The boy had filled out some since she last saw him. His shoulders had broadened, and his chest was thickening with time. His sandy blonde hair clung to his face with sweat, not quite long enough to weave into more intricate braids. He frowned at his target, but Eivor could see the clouds of distraction written across his face. He looked exactly like Randvi did when she read her reports without reading the words.

Eivor wasn't sure why she did, but she spoke aloud. "You will do well for yourself in battle. But you must school your expression."

Anarr whipped around, frightened, and nearly tripped backwards into the mud. His eyes widened when he recognized who had spoken to him. "I- uh, what?"

Eivor gestured to his axe with her chin. "You are strong, your form is good. But you frown, and you are distracted. An enemy would take advantage."

Anarr frowned, as if to prove her point. "I'm not distracted."

"You hit the target, but do you see the target?" Eivor asked casually. "Warriors look vicious and savage, but they do so with purpose. You do not focus your attention. Your mind is elsewhere."

Anarr scoffed, and Eivor felt a jarring sense of deja vu. "Of course, my mind is elsewhere."

Eivor tilted her head. "You must learn to center yourself now. What will you do when your brothers fall in battle beside you?"

Anarr turned away from her then, attacking his target again. "Right,"

Eivor hopped over the fence and approached, checking his form and watching silently for a moment. Anarr glared at her before focusing his attention back on his target. "You will be talented, one day."

Anarr rolled his eyes. "I am talented."

Eivor shrugged. "I could use a spar. I would see your focus then."

Anarr took after Randvi, Eivor could see it clear as the day. His mulish stubbornness, his deep-seated desire to prove himself, his every expression mirrored Randvi. It filled Eivor with a certain affection for the boy. "And how is that supposed to be fair? You are a seasoned warrior."

Eivor grinned then, leaning in to level their height, she didn't have to bend as far as she would have just a season ago. "It's not."

Anarr's sneer was perhaps meant to be intimidating, but Eivor wanted to ruffle his hair and laugh. "Fine,"

They circled each other, wooden axes in hand. She wouldn't risk damaging her wife's brother even with a dulled weapon. He lunged with a grunt, and Eivor swept away. She landed a swift kick to the back of his knee and he tumbled to the ground.

He popped up quickly, cheeks flushed with a tinge of humiliation. "What was that?"

"I kicked you."

"Yes- why?"

Eivor smirked. "People kick each other when they are fighting."

Anarr lunged again, though he turned in time to catch Eivor's pirouette away. He landed a glancing strike across her forearm, and Eivor grinned. "Very good. You would not have cut me, but we will take small steps."

Anarr slashed at her face, a growl erupting from his chest. Eivor swatted his axe away with her own, and struck his wrist. He dropped his weapon. She yanked him forward by the collar of his shirt, threw her own weapon down, and easily wedged him into a chokehold.

"You are the worst!" He snapped, angrily thrashing in her grip.

"You are distracted." Eivor laughed.

With a groan, Anarr ducked his head, swiped a foot at Eivor's ankle and heaved her over his shoulder, throwing her across the pit. Eivor rolled back to her feet as if it were choreographed, but she turned with a wide grin. "There you are."

Neither of them reached for their discarded weapons, instead Eivor quickly dodged Anarr's right hook towards her head. He followed up with a jab that struck her jaw hard enough to turn her head, and her grin only widened. "Very good."

Anarr was fast with his fists, and Eivor let him connect a few times. Though, for the most part, each hit was well-earned. As the sparring match continued, Anarr loosened up. Eivor's love for battle was infectious, and she caught the ghost of a smile whenever he was too focused to hide his own enjoyment.

Anarr landed a tackle and hopped up victoriously, celebrating his tackle with a howl. Eivor laughed from the ground, bringing herself up to her feet slowly. The boy taunted her, though there was no malice in his insults.

"The Wolf-Kissed, lost to my baby brother." A voice called from beyond the pit.

Eivor turned. Randvi and Thora watched their brother fondly, but Randvi's eyes glittered as they fell upon Eivor, muddy and bruised. Even Thora seemed to regard her with a new-found appreciation. Anarr bounded toward the fencing where his sisters watched, grinning and preening before their exaggerated approval.

Randvi reached forward to brush mud from her brother's cheek. She gripped his chin and tilted his face to better inspect him. "Handsome," She ruffled his hair. "You will be a heart-breaker yet."

He stuck his tongue out at her, and Randvi's bright laughter made Eivor's heart clench. She moved to stand beside him, leaning her forearm against his shoulder casually. "He is a warrior at heart."

Anarr beamed at her, pointing to a cut in her lip. "I apologize, Randvi." He said. A smirk that matched his sister bloomed across his face. "I couldn't fix this eyesore."

Eivor scoffed, shoving him several feet. Randvi's laughter was far too melodical to stay irritated, however. It'd been far too long since the last time she heard Randvi laugh so much. Thora watched silently, though her own smile danced across her lips. Eivor couldn't bring herself to spare much more than a glance to her when Randvi so freely smiled.

Randvi moved to examine Eivor's face then, turning her chin back and forth to see her split lip. "Oh darling, you took a few hits, didn't you?"

It was Eivor's turn to preen, though for a different reason than Anarr. "All well-earned hits, I promise."

Randvi brushed her thumb across Eivor's lip, gaze growing cloudy and distracted. She hummed softly, the sound seemed to startle her back to herself and she smiled slyly. "Very like you, drengr, to enjoy such strikes."

Eivor leaned forward, watching Randvi's pupils blow wide. "I enjoy many things that others would consider harsh." She spoke under her breath, intentionally quiet enough to leave Thora and Anarr unaware of their true conversation.

Randvi's cheeks set aflame, and Eivor pulled back victoriously, turning away to fetch the weapons she'd discarded to the side for her sparring match. Anarr found a way to squabble with his sisters as the four of them made their way towards the longhouse. Though Randvi happily bothered her brother with her nagging and fretting, Thora remained silent, sparing frequent glances towards Eivor.

"Go tidy yourself," Randvi patted Anarr's face fondly, and his easy grin brightened the room.

"He looks up to you." Eivor said to Randvi.

Randvi watched after Anarr as he walked away, and she reached for Eivor's hand. "He's a good boy. I used to haul him around the village on my hip as I did my chores. I just loved holding him." Her eyes grew misty and her smile turned sad. "He's grown so much. Now he's holding his own against the Wolf-Kissed."

Thora cleared her throat. "I'd like to speak with you, Eivor."

Randvi tilted her head to regard her sister, but she made no complaints. Eivor lifted their joined hands to kiss her knuckles, nodding to her. "Go, I will speak with you later."

Randvi winked at her, and retired to their quarters. Eivor watched her go, distracted by the bouncing of her fiery braids. Thora cleared her throat again.

Eivor watched Thora furrow her brows at the ground, parsing her next words, not unlike Randvi did during meetings with her scouts. "You are good to her?"

Eivor blinked. "Not as I should be."

Thora scrutinized her, watching her closely. "How do you mean?"

Eivor shook her head. "Randvi is- Randvi deserves more than I can offer her." Eivor glared down at the ground before she finally met Thora's eyes. "I regret marrying her. I have taken her from her home. But I am too selfish to let her go now."

"She writes about you."

If Eivor were weaker, she'd fall to her knees, crack open her ribs to bare her heart to the world. "I-" She stopped, unsure what she intended to say, unsure what she could possibly say.

Thora shook her head. "I thought you were a blustering fool a season ago." Thora looked as if she may be sick. "But you have proven yourself to her, and I trust my sister."

"I would throw myself upon a fire for her."

Thora rolled her eyes. "Would you? Have you thought to tell her that?"

Eivor opened her mouth to argue, though on a second thought she closed it again. "I am a coward."

Thora burst into cruel laughter. "That, I knew."

Eivor shook her head, too exhausted and ashamed of herself to react in anger. "She does not tolerate disrespect." Eivor said, unsure where she was heading. "Sometimes, I find that she hardly tolerates me."

Thora leveled a flat glare at Eivor. "You are a fool."

"It's true!" Eivor grew exasperated. "I am selfish, and ignorant. I cannot give her what she deserves, what I promised, and yet I could never let her go. I- how cruel!"

Slowly, Thora's disdainful glare morphed, took new shape into a pitiful, sad expression. "She is the best thing to happen to you."

Eivor's shoulders hunched in shame. "Not much good has come into my life." Eivor whispered. "But Randvi breathes a life into me that I did not know was missing."

Chapter Text

Eivor lounged in the bed comfortably. She held a letter in one hand and the other hand tucked behind her head. Though she stared at the page and pretended to read, she was far too happy to let Randvi's fingers glide across her bare skin. She knew Randvi was teasing her, but she liked to watch Randvi get frustrated at the lack of reaction to her best efforts.

Randvi's nails raked down her abdomen, and despite herself, her muscles there clenched and Randvi's cocky smirk grew. Eivor could see out of the corner of her eye as Randvi grew bolder. She inched up, she'd already pulled Eivor's shirt up more than necessary, but now she ran her fingers up to slip beneath her chest bindings.

Eivor redoubled her efforts to read the letter in her hand, but Randvi shifted and kissed along her jaw to her ear. By the time she reached her earlobe, sucking and nibbling at it, Eivor had completely abandoned the note to the table beside her.

"Did you want something?" Eivor asked, fully prepared to give Randvi absolutely anything she asked.

"I can think of a few things I'd want."

Eivor slipped an arm beneath Randvi and pulled her to straddle her waist, happily letting her grip settle on Randvi's bare thighs. Randvi continued to explore with her fingers, but her mouth found Eivor's throat quickly enough. Eivor groped at her ass, kneading the soft flesh there and savoring the slow kisses to her collarbone.

"Like this?"

"Just like this." Randvi mumbled against Eivor's skin.

Eivor gave her ass an approving squeeze and Randvi gasped. Eivor felt her smile into the crook of her neck. "Tell me exactly what you want."

Randvi nipped at Eivor's pulse point, palms inching up towards Eivor's chest. "I want you bare beneath me." Randvi husked, chuckling at the shiver Eivor couldn't suppress. "I want to taste you." She kissed along Eivor's jaw. "I want you to surrender to me."

Eivor tilted her head to allow better access. "I've never surrendered in my life."

Randvi hummed, grabbing Eivor's jaw roughly and forcing her to meet her eyes. "I like a challenge."

Randvi's eyes were blown wide, and Eivor could hear the rushing of blood to her ears. Randvi had hardly touched her and her breathing had already grown ragged. Part of her wanted to surrender immediately. Let Randvi have her way, but the idea of giving her a hard time was also rather appealing.

"You're thinking too hard." Randvi grinned, watching Eivor struggle. "You're clever enough."

Eivor smirked up at her. Randvi leaned in to kiss her, a heated and wholly calculated kiss. Randvi bit her lower lip, tugging slowly to drag out that pinch of pain. Eivor positively whined. She wasn't sure she'd ever made that noise in her life, but by the gods Randvi dragged it out of her effortlessly. Eivor grew needy then, and Randvi knew exactly what she was doing.

"Oh, darling," Randvi simpered. "What is it?" Randvi's fingers found a nipple beneath Eivor's chest bindings and tweaked it. Eivor, already panting, let her eyes flutter shut.

"You're too clothed." Eivor managed.

Eivor whimpered when Randvi's hands suddenly retreated from her chest, and when she opened her eyes, Randvi shed her shirt. She'd not bound her chest that evening, and Eivor struggled to keep her mouth shut. Randvi's body was truly perfect. If there was anyone more beautiful in this realm, she'd have a hard time convincing Eivor to take her eyes from Randvi.

Randvi's eyebrow twitched, and despite her bravado, Eivor saw the slight hunch in her shoulders. She didn't know what to say to alleviate whatever pain Randvi seemed to feel, but Eivor was feeling selfish that day. She sat up, shifting Randvi just slightly so that she could reach her chest with her lips. Eivor pawed at the soft flesh of Randvi's hips and thighs and peppered kisses across Randvi's chest and breasts. She hardly recognized her own pleased noises as she licked and nipped at her skin.

Randvi's hands fell to Eivor's braids. Once she'd tangled her fingers in Eivor's blonde locks, Eivor smirked against the skin of her breast and bit down, hard enough to bruise. Randvi's answering moan was long, drawn out. Eivor squirmed for even an ounce of friction, but Randvi shoved her shoulder down, following her back against the bed.

"I told you what I wanted." Randvi muttered between kisses.

"Did you not want a challenge after all?" Eivor quipped, running a palm across the smooth skin of Randvi's waist.

Randvi scoffed, grabbing Eivor's wrist and pinning it to the furs beneath them. "I want you to behave."

Eivor let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "Do you, really?"

Randvi bent her head, kissing along her collarbone until she met the muscles of her shoulder. She bit down and Eivor groaned. "Behave,"

Eivor surged up to catch Randvi's lips in a heated kiss. She let Randvi's tongue lick its way into her mouth and she was happy to let Randvi take control. Randvi moved slowly, a rather successful attempt to make Eivor squirm. "Randvi-"

Randvi made quick work of the ties to her pants and Eivor kicked them off as Randvi placed a trail of kisses down her abdomen and towards the sharp angles of her pelvis. "Beg," She demanded, finally reaching the crux of Eivor's thighs. Eivor shook her head, and Randvi nipped at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Beg,"

"Randvi," Eivor threw her head back. She tugged at Randvi's hair closer to where she needed her, but Randvi resisted with a vicious smirk. "Randvi-"

"I told you what I wanted."

"Please,"

Randvi's smirk broadened. "Good girl."

Eivor's stomach swooped and her eyes nearly rolled back in her skull just from those words, and that look in her eyes. When Randvi's tongue swiped through her already wet folds, her eyes really did roll backwards. Randvi reached up to tweak a nipple between her fingertips, and she scraped a long slow line down Eivor's muscled abdomen with her fingernails.

Eivor rarely allowed her bed partners this level of control, and she couldn't quite suppress the slight humiliation at the sloppy sounds coming from between her legs. Her hips jolted at the flick of Randvi's tongue against her clit, and as she worked her cunt with her mouth, Eivor's legs began to tremble.

"That's it, darling, let go."

Eivor bit her lip, even despite Randvi's talented mouth, she couldn't quite reach her peak. Eivor heaved a sigh, pulling on Randvi's hair. Randvi got the message, crawling up Eivor's body, her lips pulled into a glistening, mischievous smirk.

Randvi latched to her neck as her fingers drifted down. Eivor's pulse raced as Randvi traced slow, teasing circles around her clit. "Randvi," She grumbled.

"Yes, darling?"

"Fuck me."

Randvi hummed. "I like when you beg for me."

Randvi interrupted her eye roll with two fingers entering her cunt. Eivor gasped, throwing her head back with a long, loud moan. "Gods!"

Randvi set a fast pace, and Eivor could hardly keep up. Her fingers scrambled for purchase across Randvi's shoulders and tangled in her hair. 

Eivor's breathing grew rough and ragged. Randvi watched with rapt attention as Eivor came undone, whispering a steady stream of praise in her ear and against her throat. Eivor saw stars as she came, every muscle in her body grew rigid and trembled. Randvi fucked her through her orgasm. She was gentle in removing her fingers once Eivor's finally returned to Midgard a little dazed and certainly fucked-out.

Eivor relaxed against the furs bonelessly as Randvi kissed along her body with leisure. "I've plowed a few drengr in my time." Randvi whispered against Eivor's abdomen. "None come so beautifully as you do."

Eivor couldn't suppress a whimper, and that only spurred Randvi on. "I'll take vengeance."

Randvi brought her gaze up to Eivor's, biting down on the muscled valleys beneath her lips. "I count on it."

Eivor knew that Randvi's clan faced true and imminent danger when Raudkarr summoned all three of his living children and their spouses to his war room. He leveled a glare at Eivor as she entered behind Randvi, and despite his usual polite calmness, his teeth bared at the sight.

"It seems that King Harald and his puppet Styrbjorn are not to honor their promises to our clan." He growled, his angry gaze never leaving Eivor.

Randvi glanced to Eivor with a frown. "Father,"

"I will speak." Raudkarr raised a hand to silence his daughter. "You have a choice to make, Wolf-Kissed. Stand beside us with honor, or leave."

Eivor lifted her chin, ignoring Randvi's growing desperation. "I renounced Styrbjorn's leadership many months ago." She spoke quietly, but firmly. "My father died a coward, my king lives in shame. I will not disrespect my wife."

Raudkarr deflated some, his angry crusade dying on his tongue. Randvi stood rigidly at her side, and despite the shocked staring of everyone in the room, Eivor refused to look away from Raudkarr.

"This surprises me." Raudkarr sat back in his seat. "We will accept your blade."

"Eivor," Randvi hissed. "Sigurd-"

Eivor shook her head, finally looking to her wife. "He will understand."

"Styrbjorn is his father, he raised you."

"Are you trying to change her mind?" Thora demanded, tugging at Randvi's shoulder. Randvi would have none of it.

"You are betraying your brother."

That successfully struck fear through Eivor's chest. But she shook her head again. "Sigurd has denounced him as well." She whispered. "If he chooses to betray his allies then he chooses to betray me."

Randvi clamped her mouth shut, and despite her troubled glare, she nodded once, and let Eivor turn back to her father. "You have my blade."

Raudkarr nodded, turning his gaze to his eldest daughter. "I need you at my side, Randvi. Come all, sit. We have important matters to discuss."

Randvi sat at Raudkarr's right side, a place normally reserved for his wife. And Eivor took her seat beside Randvi. Thora and Mikjel settled alongside Raudkarr's left side, and Anarr took up the position directly across Raudkarr. As the others settled into their places, Randvi set her hand upon Eivor's thigh, giving her an affectionate squeeze. Eivor brushed her fingers across the back of her hand, and the meeting commenced.

"Styrbjorn's forces are sailing south as we speak." Raudkarr said, gesturing to the map laid before them. "With Harald's orders, they are to settle just northwest of here to prepare for siege."

Randvi frowned. "What are your intentions?"

Raudkarr shook his head. "We must prepare for battle. I would have Mikjel and his raiders prepare siege countermeasures, you and Thora must prepare an evacuation of our women and children."

Randvi glanced to Eivor, she gave her a grim nod. "No need," She waved her hand. "We have the Wolf-Kissed. Strike now, while they settle and prepare for siege. Send Eivor, Mikjel, and a small band of men to their forward campsite. Even if they cannot stop the siege, they can sabotage their chances of success."

Raudkarr narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "You would put that much faith in her?"

Randvi nodded once. "I've seen it for myself, father." She glanced back to Eivor. "She slew Kjotve in single combat, laid siege to the Wolves, and drove Saxons from Grantebridge. Eivor has led dozens of raids across England to gather riches and supplies to build Ravensthorpe. She is more than capable of flushing out Styrbjorn's tired forces."

Eivor leaned forward then. "It's true, Raudkarr Jarl. I will gladly take the battle to these invaders."

Raudkarr regarded his daughter. "Mikjel, prepare your raiders, Anarr will shadow you as you make preparations. Thora, Randvi, I would have the two of you preparing an evacuation on the chance that our strike is not successful." He paused. "Prepare the battle plan, Wolf-Kissed. I must address our people."

Randvi and Thora planned their evacuation well into the night, and with Mikjel's help, Eivor had a strong idea of the battle plan. Eivor paced their quarters barefoot and barely dressed as she struggled to compose a letter to Sigurd. She was unsure how best to explain that she may face the man who raised them on the battlefield.

Randvi slipped through the door quietly. She didn't bother to stop Eivor's pacing until she'd fully undressed. "Eivor, darling, it's late."

Eivor jumped slightly, startled out of her own head. "I didn't see you."

Randvi settled a hand on her hip, watching Eivor fidget in her place with a raised eyebrow. "Rest, you sail tomorrow."

Her shoulders slumped, and Eivor set her letter onto the table, rubbing at one of her temples. Randvi padded closer, running a soothing hand up the muscled expanse of Eivor's back and wrapping around her shoulders into a hug. She gently laid her chin on Eivor's shoulder. "You remember?"

"Remember?"

"I need you to come back alive."

Eivor turned in her arms, pulling Randvi closer. Randvi cradled her face in her palms, guiding Eivor down for a soft kiss. "I will always return to you, I swear it." Eivor whispered against her lips.

"Thank you," Randvi mumbled, burying her face against Eivor's chest.

"What for?"

"You stood at my side today. You could have walked away."

Eivor kissed her temple and pulled her closer to envelop her in a hug. There wasn't much to say, nothing that she could quite bring words to voice.

Eivor woke slowly that morning, despite the movement through the village. Randvi had tucked herself so tightly to Eivor that she had to pull red hairs from her mouth as she moved away. Randvi whimpered at the loss of the heat, and finally they rolled away from each other to ready themselves for the day.

Eivor, fully armored and ready to set sail, headed towards the door, only for Randvi to place a hand on her elbow to stop her. She stroked Eivor's cheek gently, an unreadable expression on her face.

"I'll see you when you return."

Eivor nodded. She pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips and left for the docks.

There was something about battle that set Eivor's blood aflame. She'd never understood during the hours she trained with her mother just how fluid and beautiful battle truly was. She had no clue how natural she would feel in her element, how she belonged with an axe in her hand.

The blood splatter, a glorious banner of her talent, dripped down her face. She did not know the raiders at her back, but she knew where to place her axe. She was grateful, many of Styrbjorn’s raiders had traveled to England at her side, the men she slaughtered today hailed from Harald's clan.

She lost track of Mikjel quickly. Through the smoke and rubble of burning tents and exploding oil jars, Eivor blinked away the smog stinging her eyes and slammed her axe into the back of a passing enemy. Through the fog she could see the thin, wiry figure of a boy successfully stab another raider in the gut, and Eivor grinned victoriously. Anarr held his own.

Her pride was short lived, as Anarr struggled to catch his breath, a shadow appeared behind him. Eivor tried to call out, but her throat burned too harshly.

She lunged, forcing herself into a sprint towards the boy. Anarr pulled himself upright just in time for Eivor to shove him to the ground. The shadow's sword glanced off of her axe, just enough to stop a killing blow. Instead the enemy raider slashed his sword again to leave a deep laceration across Eivor's chest.

Anarr let out a battle cry. Eivor staggered away, pulling the raider off balance, and Anarr struck him down with a discarded axe in his off hand.

"Eivor!" He yelped.

Eivor shook her head, shoving him away. "Protect yourself." She pushed the words from her chest as best she could. "They're retreating. Protect yourself."

Eivor sunk to the ground, nursing her wound. Like a mangy, scared puppy, Anarr stood over her with his weapons drawn. He refused to budge, even as Eivor pushed him away.

"Go, find Mikjel. Go!" Eivor tried to say, though she wasn't convinced it came out at all.

Anarr ignored her, and eventually their brothers-in-arms found them. As they moved Eivor towards the ship, the jostling and stretching of her wound stung until she lost consciousness.

She only returned to herself a few times during their short sail back to the Reindeers, and each time she heard near total silence, despite their victory.

"Run, fetch Randvi and Thora." Mikjel's voice muttered close to Eivor's right side.

Fingers brushed her forearm, and the sky swirled away.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she approached the ledge overlooking Heilboer. A woman sat with her back turned to her, and Eivor's shoulders relaxed at the sight.

The woman shifted, placing a stone atop a tower, only for the tower to fall before her. She heaved a sigh and started from the beginning.

Eivor stepped forward to take a seat next to the woman, and she grabbed a flat rock to hand to the woman beside her.

The woman glanced at her, and back to her tower. "You should not be here."

"I expected Helheim or Valhalla." Eivor muttered. "I am not dead yet, am I? This is a vision."

Rosta gave her a sad smile, taking the rock from her hand. She didn't turn away just yet, instead bringing her other hand to turn Eivor's chin enough to inspect the scar through her cheek. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head with a wry smile.

"This is. But I am happy to see you anyway."

Eivor felt small then, ready to launch herself into her mother's arms. Her eyes watered even despite herself. "Am I to die today?"

Rosta simply shrugged. Returning to her cairn, Rosta balanced the stone atop her base. "There is no way of knowing." Rosta tilted her head, furrowing her brows at her cairn. "Do you wish to?"

Eivor desperately wished to fold herself into her mother's embrace. "I don't-" She could see desperate blue eyes in her mind. A playful smirk dancing across full lips. "No, I don't wish to die today."

Rosta's small smile grew into a beautiful grin. Eivor's heart lurched the moment she realized she had forgotten what her mother's smile looked like. "She must be special, then."

"Who?"

"This girl." Rosta waved her hand. "The one you care for."

Eivor fidgeted with her hands in her lap. "She is my wife."

The caught Rosta's attention. "And does she care for you as you do her?"

She couldn't quite make out her surroundings properly, but she could see Randvi’s beautiful red hair clearly enough. Randvi gasped the moment she recognized Eivor was conscious.

"Eivor, gods, I told you to come back alive." She scolded, hands coming to cradle Eivor's face. Eivor couldn't quite see everything, but she could hear the tremor in Randvi’s voice.

"I'm alive still, Randvi." Eivor muttered, though she wasn't sure how much was intelligible to others. "You are home, my love, do not let Sigurd drag you away."

Randvi's iron grip on Eivor's bicep squeezed ever tighter. "You are not dying today."

Rosta's gaze always had that piercing motherly quality. That look in her eyes that Eivor always knew to be Rosta's wisdom and all-knowing understanding of her daughter. The understanding for her daughter that Eivor never realized she missed, following her mother's death.

"You still have so much anger." Rosta observed.

Eivor shook her head. "It is finally abating."

"You understand then?"

Eivor tilted her head. "Understand what?"

"Your father. The sacrifice he made for us."

The anger swelled in her chest again, fresh from a wound opened up at the sight of her mother stacking cairns. "I will never understand."

Rosta let out a soft laugh then. "I think you already do." She placed a third stone atop her tower. "You are angry at yourself for it."

Eivor scowled down at Heilboer so far beneath them. "Varin-"

"Your father,"

Eivor rolled her eyes. "Father gave up everything to a liar. He knew it was a lie."

"He did." Rosta said simply.

"You both did!" Eivor erupted. "You left me behind! You let yourselves perish for nothing."

Rosta, forever stable, forever content, stacked another stone. "Why are you here, Eivor?"

Eivor stewed. "I am dying."

"Why?"

"I was struck in battle."

"Fighting for what?"

Eivor sat in silence, she knew Rosta was a patient woman, she knew Rosta was a wise woman. She knew, most importantly, that Rosta was right and she would not let Eivor slip away without having made her point. "Styrbjorn betrayed his ally. I would not let this ally burn."

"Who was this ally?"

"You've made your point, mother."

"So then you understand." Rosta bit at her lip as she placed a fifth stone atop her tower. When it remained in place, she smiled triumphantly, and turned back to her daughter. "Even in the face of a lie, knowing that it was your only fraction of a chance to protect Randvi, wouldn't you lay down your axe? Accept Helheim and deny yourself glory, just to give her one more day?"

"Randvi, you have to give the healer space to work."

"I'm not leaving."

"You have to." Thora's voice lacked its usual disdain for Eivor.

"I will not."

"Mikjel,"

There was a shuffling and the telltale sound of fists meeting armor-clad flesh. "No! Eivor- Eivor!" Randvi's voice called as she was presumably carried from her side.

"Styrbjorn betrayed her."

Rosta shook her head, though her eyes seemed to drink in the sight of Eivor as hungrily as a starving wolf. "Styrbjorn does what he must. But-" Rosta leaned forward to tuck a stray braid from Eivor's face. "I will forever be grateful for what he and the Ravens have built you to be."

Eivor frowned. "I built myself."

Rosta pinched Eivor's cheek hard enough to sting. "No, little one. You are a summary of all those around you."

Eivor smiled, despite the swell of emotion blocking her throat. "I killed Kjotve. I avenged you."

Rosta's fingers stroked the spot she pinched. "You have done much more than that. You have made a name and life for yourself. You've found love, and family." Rosta ran her fingers across her face. "My beautiful daughter, you cannot stay here."

"Randvi, you need to rest." Thora's voice was soft to her side.

"I'm not leaving her side."

Thora heaved a sigh. "She may not wake."

"She will." Randvi said. Eivor could hear the determination in her wife's voice. Though she couldn't see her face, she knew the expression she wore. "I'm not leaving until she's awake."

"What will you do? If she doesn't survive, what will you do?"

There was shuffling, and Randvi's cold fingers curled around Eivor's. "I'd rather not think about it. She's strong. She'll make it through."

There was shuffling again, and Randvi let out a long, heavy breath. Eivor felt the weight of Randvi's head on her bicep and it stretched her wound just enough to pull a groan from her throat. Randvi startled, a hand coming up to touch Eivor's face.

"Eivor?" Randvi muttered.

She forced her eyes to flutter open, and at the hopeful, desperate look on Randvi's face, she managed to crack a smile. "I'm here, Randvi."

Randvi let out a relieved sob, and surged forward to press a kiss to Eivor's forehead. She rested her lips there for a moment before she pulled away to watch Eivor struggle to stay awake. "You have to recover, my love. You have to, you can't leave me here."

"I came back." Eivor's eyes fluttered shut again. "I swore I would."

Chapter Text

"Eivor, sit still."

"I am more than capable of combing my own hair."

Randvi heaved a sigh, and Eivor could practically hear the accompanying eye roll. "Yes, no one is questioning whether you can comb your hair. However, if you stretch and pull your wound, it will not heal. So, sit still, your braids are disastrous."

Eivor would cross her arms with a huff, but the wound across her chest prevented her from moving her arms much at all. "I don't need coddling."

Randvi yanked mercilessly at a particularly stubborn knot in her hair. "But you need grooming."

Eivor grunted, but sat still enough for Randvi to untangle her messy hair. Randvi fretted over her, and though Eivor felt the warmth in her cheeks for allowing her wife to care for her, she scowled at the blank wall beside her.

Randvi bustled about, muttering mostly to herself about strategic plans regarding the protective countermeasures she would recommend to her father. Her hands fiddled with cloths and water basins as she prepared to wash Eivor's hair. Eivor tuned her out mostly.

Randvi nudged Eivor over to settle her head against the tabletop where she could soak Eivor's hair in the warmed water. Randvi had added soap to the water, and the scent she usually used for her own hair. Eivor dutifully closed her eyes as Randvi ran her fingers through to catch any last tangles.

"The volva has told us that you are well enough to walk about the settlement and attend meetings." Randvi began softly. "I would ask that you see to Anarr when you can."

Eivor made a questioning noise in the back of her throat and waited for Randvi to explain.

"He was extremely upset when you were injured. He told us what happened to you." Randvi trailed off, probably expecting a response. Eivor had nothing to say, though she frowned at her words. Randvi sighed. "It is too much to put on a boy, a life-debt."

Eivor opened her eyes then to regard Randvi. "He owes me nothing."

Randvi furrowed her brows, eyes drifting from Eivor's gaze to her hair, distracting herself with her task at hand. "There are few vikingr that would agree." Randvi shook her head. "I have seen you, Eivor, but it is impossible to tell what person you will be at your most desperate. Your loyalties are often at odds, as are all of our loyalties." Randvi's expression turned to stone, and she gripped Eivor's hair tight in one fist, yanking it back to expose Eivor's throat. Their eyes met, and Eivor saw a fierceness, a darkness, that was entirely unfamiliar to her. "My brother will pledge his life to you. And you will not take his pledge. His life is to be lived here, far from you and from your ambitious, entitled brother. You will never call upon his life-debt, even at the orders of your jarl. My family owes nothing to you, Wolf-Kissed."

Eivor, despite her surprise and the pain at her scalp, hardly reacted. She watched the anger and the heartache drain from Randvi's eyes as the silence continued. Randvi's grip in her hair finally loosened and Eivor let her step back just slightly. Randvi frowned as she waited for Eivor's reaction.

"I will not call upon your family, even in the desperate times that are sure to come." Eivor spoke softly. "Your brother is free to live his life, and I will stay far away." Eivor hesitated. "Styrbjorn has betrayed his word. I- our arrangement- if you so choose, I would not stand between you and the dissolution of our marriage."

Randvi fully pulled back then, she paced the room soaking her clothes through at the hip where she rested her still-wet hands. She faced the wall and rolled her shoulders, finally hanging her head.

"I'm not seeking a divorce, Eivor." She muttered miserably. "I am- I'm not unhappy."

Eivor struggled to lift her head without soaking herself entirely, but she could still see Randvi shift from foot to foot across the room. "You sound incredibly unhappy."

Randvi buried her face in her hands, rubbing circles atop the temples of her forehead, and dragging her palms across her cheeks. "Is it so wrong of me?" She muttered to herself. Then louder: "Is it so wrong that I wish to return to England at your side?" She spoke aloud, though Eivor wasn't sure she expected an answer.

"I'm not sure about right or wrong." Eivor said quietly. "But it is what I want."

Randvi stood silently for another moment, before she returned to Eivor to finish washing her hair. The tension between them was thick enough to cut, and Eivor kept her eyes closed. Best to keep them shut, so as to offer any modicum of privacy she could provide.

Randvi rung the water from Eivor's hair and gestured for her to sit upon the bed to begin the braiding process. Eivor found it rather soothing to let Randvi care for her hair.

Randvi was much gentler while braiding, and Eivor felt the tension in her shoulders wash away as her eyes drifted shut. Randvi finished quickly, and though Eivor expected her to push away and leave room for Eivor to settle into bed, instead, Randvi melted against her back. Her arms drifted around Eivor's waist, careful to avoid the still healing wound across her chest, and Randvi curled close to Eivor's body.

She heaved a long-suffering sigh, and despite the still palpable tension, Eivor relaxed back into Randvi's embrace. "Do you remember your mother's smile?" Eivor blurted out, unsure where the subject came from.

Randvi nodded her head against Eivor's shoulder. "I think of it often."

Eivor nodded. "I had visions, as I was dying. I saw my mother's smile. For the first time since Kjotve raided Heilboer." Emotion welled in Eivor's throat. "I hadn't realized I'd forgotten."

Randvi squeezed her arms tight around Eivor's waist. "I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Losing you. I'd just lost my mother."

Eivor shook her head. "You would live well without me." Eivor brought a hand up to caress the fingertips clutched tight around her. "Should I die, I request two things from you."

Randvi drew a shaky breath. "What are these two things?"

"First, that my brother is not left alone. That Ravensthorpe and the clan follow his leadership and love him as I do." Eivor hesitated. "And the second, is that when you remarry, you marry for love. You have sacrificed too much. Let the next sacrifice be worth it all."

At first Randvi was still and silent, and then slowly she shook her head, and finally the trembling began. "You fool."

Eivor frowned, though Randvi couldn't see it. "That lacked its usual sarcasm."

"I wasn't sarcastic." Randvi muttered. "You are a fool."

"Will you not explain?"

Randvi's laughter was slightly muffled by Eivor's shirt, but it was clearly at Eivor's expense. "Perhaps another time, my love." 

Randvi untangled herself from Eivor and tugged at the back of her sleep shirt. Eivor took the hint and laid back into bed, looking to Randvi inquisitively. "Rest now. Tomorrow I must make the final preparations for my father's defensive measures, and then make arrangements for our return to England. Please, see to Anarr. The boy is distressed."

Randvi brushed her fingertips across Eivor's cheek affectionately, and finally turned away to clean away the basins and dirty water.

Eivor's injury delayed their return to England several weeks. Though, in the end, it was Raudkarr to insist the two leave. Winter came early in Norway, and if they didn't leave soon, the fjord would freeze over too much for them to sail safely.

Of course, before they could leave, Thora was still to be married. Eivor would never admit it to Randvi, but she delighted, in a sick and vindictive way, in watching Randvi stress over wedding-planning for the second time within two seasons. A small sense of vengeance for Eivor, a frequent target of Randvi's teasing and sarcasm.

Eivor lounged diagonally across their bed, head propped upon one arm as she watched Randvi pace, a small smirk in place. Randvi's muttering lost its sense long ago, and Eivor wasn't sure she was even speaking any sort of language anymore.

"I'm beginning to believe you have issues with control." Eivor prodded her.

Randvi dropped the hand holding her letter before her face to crush the paper against her hip as she scowled at Eivor. The attempted ferocity in her glare simply amused Eivor, and she grabbed a crumpled letter she'd discarded to toss at Eivor's head.

"Make yourself useful." Randvi growled. "There has to be something you can do other than fight and drink."

Eivor hummed, a wicked grin stretching across her face. "I can fuck."

That caught Randvi just off her guard enough to force laughter from her chest before she could school her features. "And how is that useful?"

Eivor tilted her head. "You're stressed, darling. I can certainly help with that."

Randvi rolled her eyes, and though her smile hadn't quite left yet, she shook her head. "No time, Wolf-Kissed. I have errands to run."

Eivor moved swiftly to her feet. She didn't miss Randvi's hungry expression, and in two steps, she stood nose-to-nose with her wife. "I can be quick."

Eivor pulled Randvi closer by the hips, dipping her head to press her lips to the soft skin of her throat. Randvi's throat flexed as she gasped for air. Eivor grinned as Randvi's hands perched atop her shoulders.

She pulled away then, leaving Eivor to follow absently. "Eivor," Randvi's voice held nothing but affection, and Eivor desperately wanted her closer. "You're injured, and I have errands to run."

Eivor pouted, attempting to tug Randvi back in, but she held firm. "I'm fine enough."

Randvi's smile was all too soft, all too innocent. Eivor knew to expect whatever Randvi said next to knock the wind from her lungs. Randvi leaned forward just enough, looking up at Eivor through her lashes. "Oh darling, you'll need to be in much better shape for what I have planned."

Randvi stepped fully back then and grabbed a sheet of paper from the desk, brushing briskly past Eivor. The moment Eivor could breathe again, she followed a little eagerly, but she doubted anyone could possibly resist doing the same.

By the time she caught up to Randvi, they'd completely left the longhouse behind and started along the pathway towards the baker. Eivor bumped Randvi's shoulder with her own playfully. "You do that on purpose."

"You catch on quick."

"When I get my hands on you-"

"Randvi!" Anarr called from just behind them.

They turned to watch the boy jog the last few steps to them, he panted for just a moment. "It's Thora."

"Cold feet?" Randvi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. She glanced towards Eivor. "I suppose I have no room to judge. Anarr, take this to the baker, would you? Then run this list to the tanner." Randvi handed two separate lists to Anarr. "Go, I'll handle Thora. She just needs a little push."

Anarr nodded, waving to Eivor as he jogged off in the direction they'd been heading. Eivor followed Randvi as she took another route towards Thora's small cottage not far from the longhouse. "You had your doubts?" Eivor asked.

"You didn't?"

"I did."

Randvi shrugged. "Mother talked me down." She grew sad then. "Without her, well. I'm the eldest sister. I have responsibilities to them now. Perhaps, I always did."

Eivor frowned. She struggled to conjure her mother's smile in her mind's eye, it'd been so long, even with their recent conversation in her visions. "I admire you." She said almost absently. If she were completely honest, Eivor hadn't intended to say that aloud. Though she meant it.

It gave Randvi pause. "Why?"

Eivor shrugged, choosing her words carefully. "You shoulder responsibility like you could never stumble. I can see it, the aching you hide. I know because I didn't." Eivor shook her head. "I'm lost still. There is nothing to drive me. But you? You would hold your breath if it meant more air in the lungs of your family."

Randvi was silent for a moment. Finally, she spoke. "You sound," Randvi stopped, chewing on words Eivor couldn't guess.

"Arrogant?"

"Lonely."

Eivor blinked rapidly, like she'd been slapped across the face. "I'm surrounded by people. I have always cared for my clan."

"I know." Randvi worried her lip with her teeth. "I haven't figured you out, yet."

"And that means?"

"You're certainly arrogant." Randvi smiled at her. "But not for the reasons I thought. You confuse me, love."

They arrived at Thora's cottage then, and Eivor wandered back towards the longhouse, leaving the sisters to their surely emotional conversation.

Eivor let out a sigh of relief when the shores of England slowly emerged from the sea-fog. She rested her hand against the axe at her belt, watching the waves lap up against the sandy beaches. The wind was far chillier than it had been the first time she'd seen England with her own eyes.

By the time their ship reached the mouth of the river that would lead towards Ravensthorpe, Randvi had joined her to watch the land grow larger along the horizon. Eivor glanced to her, though they stood in companionable silence, enjoying the wind stinging their cheeks.

Randvi gestured towards a monastery sitting high above the river with her chin. "It seems the Christians are rebuilding their temple." She muttered.

The monastery, though still crumbled and scorched from their raid the season before, had planks of wood surrounding the soaring spires, likely to support the stonemasons as they made repairs. Eivor could see the masons working atop their perches, like ants upon a hill.

"Then they are growing in strength." Eivor frowned. "We should be wary sending our scouts in this area."

Randvi hummed in agreement. "We must make winter preparations across Ravensthorpe. I doubt Dag has insulated the longhouse or prepared for the first freeze."

Eivor nodded along, eyes scanning the coasts as they made their way down the river. Just around the river bend they would find the docks of Ravensthorpe. "When we dock, head to the longhouse and get settled. I'll get everything unloaded."

Randvi's smile was small, but warm. "And who will keep the children out of trouble while you're occupied?" She teased. "They'll be excited to see you."

Eivor grinned despite herself. "I'll be sure to stop for them sometime before nightfall."

Randvi turned then to regard the crew as they moved about the deck. She placed a hand atop Eivor's chest, her thumb rubbing slight circles across her collarbone. Her eyes scanned the ship and back to Eivor. "How is your wound, love?"

Eivor plucked her hand from her chest, moving to press a kiss to her palm. "Well," she said. "Go, I can see the docks from here."

Unloading was a difficult task after several weeks recovering from a near-fatal wound. Eivor would need to spend a few weeks in the training pit with her raiders before she would trust herself on a raid.

Eivor furrowed her brows as she picked her way through Ravensthorpe, greeting residents as she passed. She'd never thought that she would hold herself back from raiding out of concern for her own safety. Was this cowardice?

Eivor shook her head as she entered the longhouse. She'd never cared about her own life before. Randvi had made it clear that she didn't consider Eivor's self-sacrificial habits as honorable as Eivor intended.

"Eivor?"

Eivor startled from her thoughts, realizing she'd been standing in the doorway of Randvi's war room. "What was that?"

Randvi shook her head, a frown forming across her face. "I'd just called your name. You seem troubled."

Eivor shook her head, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her chest. Beneath her clothes a nasty scar formed, and Eivor wondered briefly how revolting it would come to be.

"Did something happen?" Randvi asked, tilting her head to meet Eivor's eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Eivor said. "I'm lost in my thoughts. Tell me, what do we have waiting for us here?"

Randvi sighed. "Preparing for winter, as we discussed earlier. I have many reports waiting for me about our stocks. I'll need time to estimate what I'll need you and your raiders to procure." Randvi pursed her lips as she scanned the scattered documents before her. "Our silver stores are low. Though, trade demand has grown slightly while we have been away. Good sign," Randvi muttered to herself. "Sigurd left a summons for you to join him in Ledecestrescire. He left few details, but he does mention the Ragnarssons."

"How immediate is this summons?"

Randvi shook her head, pressing her lips tight together. She stared down at the note in question with furrowed brows, as if glaring at it would change the words written upon the page. "Immediately upon your return."

Eivor stepped forward, pressing her palm to the small of Randvi's back. She straightened some, though she refused to look at Eivor. "I will be home shortly, darling. I'll leave at first light tomorrow."

The tension in Randvi’s shoulders softened some and she nodded. "I have scout reports to cover. Bandits and Saxons cover the roads to Repton, I should prepare a route for you."

Eivor supposed she should come to be accustomed to an empty bed late at night. Though, the fire was beginning to die and Randvi still had not retired for the night. Eivor stretched her shoulders and neck wearily, pulling herself to her feet and shuffling from their quarters to the war room around the corner.

Randvi stood, hunched over the great wooden table they so often huddled around to discuss politics and strategy. She wasn't reading anything in particular, her head hung low and her fingers gripped the table so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her hair had nearly come fully undone from her braid, and Eivor smiled slightly at that. Her wife could never keep her hands from her hair while deep in thought. Always tugging at her braids or curling a lock around her fingers, Randvi's hair usually became a mess by the end of the day.

Eivor shuffled closer, sure to make enough noise to alert Randvi to her presence. Randvi's hammer still sat at her belt, and Eivor would rather not risk startling her into swinging it.

Randvi rolled her shoulders and lifted her head as Eivor approached. Though Randvi knew that Eivor was there, she still startled as Eivor wrapped her arms tight around Randvi's waist, resting her chin upon her shoulder.

"Come to bed, my love." Eivor's voice was still heavy with sleep, and a shiver ran down Randvi's spine.

"Gods," Randvi whispered, a tone Eivor couldn't quite decipher in her voice. She took a breath, letting it out slowly as the remaining tension in her shoulders released. "There's so much to do, Eivor."

"Nothing more can be done tonight." Eivor mumbled, pressing a sleepy kiss to the bare skin of Randvi's neck.

Randvi nodded, batting away Eivor's hands as she stacked and rearranged her notes for the morning. Eivor waited patiently by the door, happily following Randvi to their quarters once she was done.

Eivor couldn't quite keep her hands to herself, and Randvi certainly wasn't opposed. It seemed after every layer of clothing Randvi removed, Eivor wanted to touch her. By the time Randvi reached bare skin, Eivor had kissed every inch she could reach.

Randvi sighed, melting into Eivor's arms as she pulled Randvi to bed. Eivor settled above her, finally letting their lips meet. The kiss was soft and hungry but not hurried. Randvi hummed as Eivor's hands roamed her body lazily. Every touch left a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Randvi nipped at Eivor's bottom lip, smiling at the groan she received in return. Eivor grasped at Randvi's ass then, peppering her freckles with gentle kisses, as if to give each one individual attention. Randvi giggled, letting her hips roll with Eivor's grip.

Randvi let out a contented sigh when Eivor's thigh slotted between her legs and she moaned Eivor's name softly into the dark as Eivor encouraged her to grind down against her. She husked out a laugh against the shell of Randvi's ear, giving it a playful nip while she was there.

"Gods, I need this." Randvi huffed, breath hitching as Eivor picked up the pace.

"It's time I spoiled my wife, like any great drengr should." Eivor said, grinning against the soft skin of Randvi's chest.

She peppered kisses along the column of her throat, tracing the shape of her jawline and finally trailing back to meet Randvi's lips with a sweet kiss. Though their kiss could hardly be defined as such, between Eivor's grin and Randvi's stuttering breath, their lips barely met.

"Darling, I'm close." Randvi whimpered, spurring Eivor on.

Randvi's breath hitched and Eivor pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Let go, my love. I'm here."

Randvi came with a curse on her lips. It certainly didn't seem like a particularly earth-shattering climax to Eivor, more like an overwhelming sigh of relief. Once Randvi fully relaxed against the furs, she'd become completely boneless in Eivor's arms.

Eivor rearranged them so that Randvi could curl into her side, head propped against Eivor's nearly healed chest. Randvi traced her scar with her fingertips, frowning at the small divot in her skin that formed jagged angles through tattooed flesh.

Randvi hummed, flattening her palm over Eivor's beating heart. Eivor closed her eyes, enjoying Randvi's gentle touch. It seemed, however, that she couldn't quite take her mind from her upcoming travels.

"Am I a coward?" Eivor wondered aloud.

Randvi stilled. "Why do you ask?

Eivor paused, choosing her words carefully. "I have never cared so much about my own life. I've only cared about an honorable death. Yet, I- I want to live."

Randvi snuggled closer to Eivor's side. "Darling, that's not cowardice. That is human." She traced her fingertips up Eivor's throat and gripped her chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet Randvi's eyes.

The blue threatened to swallow her whole, to drown her. Eivor took a gasping breath and nodded. "I have dedicated my life to death. I thought earlier about my next raid. I thought that perhaps I shouldn't return to the battlefield for a few weeks at the least. I should train and recover. I've never before lost my bloodlust, Randvi. What have I become?"

Randvi stroked her cheek with her knuckles, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "You have a life worth living. There is no need to throw yourself into battle and die at the hands of a Saxon. You care for yourself. I've never seen you do so."

Eivor nodded, letting her head fall back to stare at the longhouse ceiling. "I would do anything for my clan, my brother, my wife. I find myself hoping that they won't ask too much of me. Because I will give it."

Chapter Text

For many Norse, killing was a fact of life.

The sagas would lead young Norse warriors to believe that the sounds of battle included blaring horns, pounding drums, and war cries striking fear into the hearts and minds of the enemy. It's true that many battles begin with a horn sounding the approach of Vikingr, ready to slaughter any that stand between them and glory. But after the initial horns and the first warriors rush into battle, there is a sickening silence that falls over the battle, only the din of dying men and metal crunching bone ever made it through Eivor's focus.

Eivor was born for battle, it seemed, and every second she spent with an axe in her hand was a second Eivor knew her true purpose. Once the clouds of battle settled, that purpose slipped away, and Eivor would drift again.

Her axe blade dripped crimson and the spray of blood splattered across her face. Eivor paid no mind to the messy business of war, but even as she dodged and swung brutally through the crowds, the battlefield seemed to fade away.

She struck down the closest Saxon with a grunt, but never saw him fall as the gore and crashing weapons blurred into fog.

"It is a shame to put the hopes of your legacy in the hands of a boy who would not stand at your side in battle.” An all-too-familiar voice said, the low timbre filtering through the battle-din as clearly as a horn.

Eivor turned to regard Odin before her. He scrutinized her, watching with disappointment as she steadied her own breathing. She’d expected such shame at her rusty axe-arm, but to criticize her loyalties? She squared her shoulders. "The Saxons differ in their understanding of glory and honor."

"Your trust is too easily given. Who is more fit to lead than you? That Saxon boy and his traitor father? Seize power when it is easily taken and you will know glory."

An arrow whizzed past Eivor's face, and she blinked away the fog. The All-Father had disappeared, and the Saxons would take any distraction to slit her throat. She lunged to the side, ripping a Saxon clear off his feet by the back of his collar. Eivor ripped his helmet from his head and in a quick burst of rage, slammed her axe into his skull repeatedly until she'd fully returned to herself.

Randvi,

The Nornir weaved a glorious saga for Sigurd and the Ragnarssons. As I write this letter, Tamworth Castle burns even still. The Boneless cut through countless Saxons, and Ubba planned a siege so seamless even you would be impressed.

I had forgotten the thrill of battle at my brother's side. There was an eagerness, a refreshing youth, to our blade-banter that danced in the air, louder than the din of dying Saxons. I hadn't felt such excitement and giddiness since my first raid with Sigurd. I was as scared and clumsy as your brother had been, but Sigurd's axe was faster, and I could not let that be true. I had not seen my brother quite like he was when we were young in many years.

There was a traitor. A sell-sword swine funneling information to Burgred from Ubba and Ivarr's war table. After finding the information we needed, I was sure to bury my blade deep into her throat.

Mercy. These Saxons throw this word around often. I'm unsure truly what they mean by it. Some seem to believe that death should be the grave fate of humanity, while others view it as salvation. I don't understand. It is death we must all face, and no matter the gods one worships, it is unwise to fear that which is inevitable. Even more so to throw yourself upon the blade recklessly. I see my hypocrisy, love.

Banished to Rome with an angry warrior at his back, Burgred may never reach the city that was once the center of the world. Leofrith was a loyal man, and nearly died for it. I showed true mercy that day. He need not die for his loyalty to a dishonest king, but to live honorably would be true mercy for a worthy opponent. He vowed vengeance, and I see that he will likely achieve it.

Ceolbert is the boy delivering this letter to you. He rides with Sigurd to Ravensthorpe where he will reside until his father calls upon him to lead where he is needed. This lordling is interesting, and I think you will find his company amiable. He is still soft and fearful, but he has a kindness in his heart so rarely seen, and a mind for politics and philosophy. I wish for him to learn from you what he can. Strategy and planning and how to run a village, let alone an entire shire, an entire kingdom. I know he will have the finest tutelage at his disposal.

Now it seems the wind calls me back to you.

Your dutiful drengr,

Eivor

Despite what Eivor understood to be unseasonably pleasant weather for England, the sky seemed to darken and the wind grew chillier the longer Eivor meditated upon her vision. Every step towards Ravensthorpe pushed her further away and deeper into her thoughts. Odin had spoken to her for the first time. She'd seen visions that rarely made sense and pieces of what felt like a different life altogether, but never had the All-Father appeared before her to give council.

And the council he gave!

The insults towards Ceolbert's character and the suggestion that Eivor seize power for herself was enough to put Eivor on edge. Was this the beginning of her fated betrayal? She quite liked the boy, and leadership suited her, but taking power that was not hers to take, it would be the highest betrayal of Sigurd's trust and confidence.

She hardly recognized her surroundings as she found herself on the pathway towards one of her oldest friends. She blinked away her distraction and let her legs carry her to the places she was meant to be.

The bones in the doorway of Valka's hut clinked together as Eivor passed through the curtain. Valka sat at the table, and she turned to observe Eivor with those strange eyes that seemed to see straight through her.

Valka tilted her head. “You've had another vision.”

“This one was different. Odin gave council directly to me. He appeared before me in the midst of battle.” Eivor began to pace, gesturing wildly as she spoke. “He was disappointed. He believed the Saxon lordling to be unworthy of the throne.”

Valka nodded, she watched Eivor pace further. “I implore you to meditate, commune with the gods and allow the All-Father to give his council. He is the wisest of the Aesir, he will steer you to that which you are destined to be.”

“He suggests betrayal! He suggests treason.”

Valka observed Eivor's erratic pacing with a steady gaze. She had been Eivor's good friend for decades, if there was a person in this realm to ground her, she could rely on Valka. “Then perhaps these visions are not truly the High One, but tricks of the eye beset upon you by Loki.”

“These visions trouble me, Valka. I see glimpses of different lives, of fire and wolves and glimmering palaces among great Ashen roots. They simmered just at the edges of my thoughts for years, until-” Eivor halted in her pacing, she stared into the distance.

“Until?”

“I found my father's axe. I don't understand. What could this mean?”

“It could mean any number of things, Eivor. Or it could mean nothing at all. Meditate. Return to me in a fortnight and we will discuss what you have discovered.”

Eivor's shoulders slumped, but she knew a dismissal from her oldest friend when she heard it. Despite Valka's rather unimpressive assistance, Eivor left her hut with looser shoulders and stepped into sunlight that shined a little brighter.

She turned her attention to her next stop on her return to Ravensthorpe, the longhouse. By now, Ceolbert should have arrived and settled into something of a routine in Ravensthorpe with Randvi's guidance.

Randvi's voice filtered through the longhouse as Eivor entered. Light shone through the windows high in the loft, and Eivor took her time weaving through the rows of tables towards her war room. She grinned as Randvi's musical laughter floated through the door as she approached.

"My father says that all an army truly needs is bread, water, and an accurate map." Ceolbert's voice cut in.

"Perhaps a few more things, swords and shields should certainly help."

"Clothes, rest."

"Not as pithy, I suppose." Randvi paused. "How long are you expected to stay here in Ravensthorpe?"

"Enough to learn from your wisdom, I hope."

"You will have a long grey beard by then, aethling."

"Though, perhaps your map looks a bit old. You could certainly find better with a cartographer." Ceolbert muttered around the sounds of shuffling paper.

"How so?"

"Northumbria here, it is ruled by Halfdan Ragnarsson now. Ivarr and Ubba's brother."

"I see," Randvi said.

Eivor rounded the corner then, stopping at the doorway to watch her wife lean in towards the map, scrutinizing it with an irritated frown. "Good to see you've made it to Ravensthorpe safely, Ceolbert." Though she spoke to Ceolbert, her eyes remained on her wife.

Randvi looked up, a smile brightening her face. "Eivor."

"Thanks to Sigurd." Ceolbert's boyish grin was certainly charming. Eivor nodded an acknowledgement. "He had some interesting stories about the legendary Wolf-Kissed of Norway."

Randvi made her way around the table towards Eivor. Eivor wasn't sure what to expect, but a tug on her hand and a happy kiss was not particularly high on her list of possible greetings. Randvi pulled away, rolling her eyes as she brushed dirt from Eivor's cheek. "You're filthy." She muttered under her breath.

Eivor kissed her forehead quickly before Randvi could shove her away. Finally, she turned to Ceolbert. "Yes, I hope nothing too embarrassing."

"There were certainly some gems." Ceolbert laughed at Eivor's answering grimace.

Eivor straightened, exchanging a glance with Randvi. "His opinion is of great value to me."

"So your…" Ceolbert paused, gesturing to Randvi awkwardly. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. "...wife said."

Randvi's hand fell from Eivor's chest to brush across her forearm, and Eivor recognized the glint in her eyes. Though she had just started to breathe a little easier after speaking with Valka, the air rushed from her lungs just as quickly.

Suddenly, Ceolbert's pleasant company was anything but welcome. Eivor wanted him out, immediately. Not that he'd done anything wrong, but because she had other things on her mind that the boy's innocence simply couldn't take.

Randvi tilted her head, a singular eyebrow arched. She feigned confusion, but the slight twitch at the corners of her lips told Eivor she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew how to poke and prod Eivor into doing exactly what she wanted. Eivor knew Randvi had a manipulative side, but the idea of resisting her seemed frankly appalling.

“Ceolbert, I think we do need updated maps. I'd like to send you along with an escort to Grantebridge to see their cartographer. Ravensthorpe needs our own, so this will be a twofold mission for you. Update our maps, and recruit a cartographer to join our settlement.” Randvi turned, she clasped her hands together before her and Ceolbert straightened with pride at the idea of an important mission. One that didn't involve battle or bloodshed.

“Understood. I'll prepare for the journey. It's a short one, yes?”

Randvi's wicked grin nearly brought Eivor to her knees. “It is. Fetch Birna and you two should be on your way. We will expect the both of you back tomorrow evening.”

Ceolbert nodded, he smiled happily as he trailed from the room in the direction of his quarters. Eivor's eyes never left Randvi's profile as she sorted letters with poorly disguised interest.

Eivor backed away just enough to shut the door quietly behind her. At the click of the lock, Randvi glanced up, that clever gleam sparkling in her expression. “Good girl.”

Eivor had her pinned against the table with two long strides, and Randvi's hands tangled in her braids as she pulled Eivor down to meet her lips. Randvi gasped into the kiss as Eivor groped her ass, smiling at her enthusiasm. “Did you miss me that much?” Eivor whispered.

“It's been weeks, love.”

Eivor hummed a noncommittal response, though it quickly turned into a whimper as Randvi nipped at her bottom lip. The way Randvi squirmed in her grip, the way she ground her hips down against Eivor's knee between her legs, it left her breathless and desperate to confess anything and everything.

“I dreamt of you.” Eivor murmured against her lips. With a final squeeze, she lifted Randvi up into her arms and allowed her legs to lock behind her back. She settled Randvi atop the table, and though the pawns clattered to the floor and the map beneath her tore slightly, she couldn't bring herself to care. “I dreamt of you just like this.”

Randvi's grip in her hair tightened. “Did you now?” Arousal built in Eivor's gut at the dark flash across Randvi's face. “Do you often dream of me on this table?”

“I dream of you everywhere.” Eivor said, her hands fell to Randvi's thighs, squeezing them and running her hands up to slip beneath Randvi's shirt and under-tunic. “On this table, in our bed. Beneath me or on top. Begging, pleading.” Eivor frowned. “Never so clothed.”

Randvi's laughter sent Eivor soaring into the rafters. She didn't want to remember a time in her life in which she didn't know that laugh. She could only thank the gods for her good fortune in knowing Randvi, and she would seize the chance to memorize each line in her face as Randvi's laughter died down, replaced by a fond smile. She removed her hand from Eivor's braids and stroked the scar through her cheek with her knuckle. It was such an achingly gentle gesture of affection, Eivor was paralyzed in the moment, wishing it would never end.

“I did miss you.”

“What did you miss?” Eivor prompted, nudging Randvi's nose with her own. “Was it my dazzling charisma? My wit as sharp as flint?” Eivor pulled Randvi closer, rolling her hips and forcing a gasp from her lips at the friction. “Or the way I make you come, screaming the names of any god that will listen?”

Randvi kissed her way down from Eivor's jawline to her throat, down to her collarbone. She bit down there, hard. Eivor caught herself between a yelp and perhaps the most vulgar moan she'd ever voiced. “Your humility, I think.”

Eivor panted a second, struggling to push the fog of arousal from her mind long enough to find a witty retort. Instead Randvi shifted, nudging Eivor's hand from her hips towards her waistband. “Eivor, please.”

There would be no clever response. Eivor would simply have to resign herself to losing their verbal sparring. But ultimately, with Randvi begging for her touch, was it really losing?

“Only because you have been so polite.” Eivor muttered against the soft flesh of her throat. She dipped her hand down, and suppressed a shiver at the whine Randvi let out as she swiped her fingers between her slick lips. Her fingers came to a rest just atop Randvi's clit, and Randvi's forehead dropped to rest on Eivor's shoulder as she heaved for air.

“Gods, Eivor!”

Eivor set a slow, tantalizing pace circling Randvi's clit with wide swipes of her fingertips. Never quite where Randvi wanted her, and certainly not nearly as fast. “I'm going to fucking devour you.”

By the time Eivor was losing patience teasing Randvi, her red hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and she was whispering curses and pleas into the fabric covering Eivor's shoulder. Randvi's voice had hitched upwards, and Eivor knew her wife would not remain so well-behaved for much longer.

At risk of another bite or some other method of trouble-making, Eivor smirked. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.” Randvi bit out.

“Hm?” Eivor hummed. “A new map?”

“Fuck me or I'll do it myself.”

Eivor grabbed Randvi's jaw with her other hand, forcing Randvi to meet her eyes. Eivor slowed her other hand to a near standstill, just enough to leave Randvi's eyelids fluttering as she struggled to concentrate. There was a divot between her eyebrows as Randvi struggled to maintain eye contact, to maintain composure. “I think I'd like to see that.”

Randvi's answering whimper would be terribly embarrassing for her if she wasn't too far gone to care. Randvi leaned forward for a kiss, but Eivor leaned backwards. “I don't think so.”

A slight flick of her forefinger and Randvi's hips jolted and her eyes rolled backwards. “Eivor!”

“I like it when you say my name like that.” Eivor groaned. “Gods Randvi, you're beautiful.”

Eivor picked up the pace and Randvi squirmed, seeking the relief she needed. She begged to the gods, to Eivor, for more. Anything more. Eivor pulled Randvi's face back up, pressing light kisses to her cheeks as Randvi couldn't hold herself back from begging.

“Beautiful,” Eivor whispered. “Beautiful.”

Randvi came with a gasp, and Eivor let her drop her head to pant against her. She brought her hand back up to settle at Randvi's hips, and she stroked that red, red hair gently as Randvi's heartbeat slowed.

Randvi's fingers twisted at the fabric of Eivor's clothes, pulling her ever closer. “You think I'm beautiful?” She whispered, a crack in her voice Eivor hadn't expected.

“You sound hopeful.” Eivor tried to tease, but the tightening of Randvi's grip told her now was not the time.

“And if I am?” Randvi hid vulnerability well most of the time, but even with her face hidden in the crook of Eivor's neck, her insecurity had never been so clear.

“Then let me assure you.” Eivor whispered, nudging the side of Randvi's head with her nose. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I have traveled this land so far, and I've seen valkyries upon the battlefield, and none of them are you.”

Eivor was not usually tactful enough to keep her mouth shut, but when she felt tears drip from Randvi's eyes to her shirt, she kept quiet.

Chapter Text

The feast, as all feasts in Ravensthorpe, was a wild, boisterous celebration. Whether they celebrated Ceolbert's arrival, Eivor's successful alliance, or the idea of their Jarl in battle, it hardly mattered. Eivor would enjoy herself no matter the reason.

It'd taken two days to fully prepare the feast. During those two days, Eivor hardly saw hide nor hair of her wife. Not around the settlement, in their bed, or around the fire in the longhouse. Randvi spent the majority of those two days hunched over her new map with Ceolbert. The boy had a talent for politics, according to Randvi.

So when Randvi finally emerged from her war room, Eivor could hardly keep her eyes off of her figure. Randvi played coy, and hid her smirks behind her horn of mead. Every time Eivor worked her way towards her, someone would pull Eivor aside for some other conversation or activity. Randvi's eyes would glitter in the firelight and her amusement, plain as day across her face, would only serve to irritate Eivor further.

Eivor, briefly distracted by Birna cornering Ceolbert into a drinking contest he was doomed to lose, picked her way through the crowd. They danced and guffawed and drank around her, and it was hard to get from one end of the longhouse to the other.

There was something playful in the set of Randvi's shoulders. Even locked in conversations and as her horn filled and refilled, Randvi watched Eivor work her way slowly towards her. It seemed she intended to agitate her wife, because Randvi moved about the room just out of range, forcing Eivor to swim through conversations and make no ground.

Eivor struggled not to growl in irritation at the latest clan member to pull her aside into pleasant conversation. Her eyes followed Randvi as she set along a new path through the room. Closer and closer to the doorway leading outside, but further and further from Eivor.

Eivor glanced away to answer Hytham's question, and when she looked for Randvi among the crowd again, she was absent. Eivor could guess she'd slipped from the longhouse. She'd rather pluck out her own eye than let Randvi get away after all of her teasing.

She stumbled from the longhouse doors into the cool, night air. She scanned the flickering shadows just beyond the firelight for her prey. Her only hint was a shuffling to her right, and Eivor eagerly followed Randvi further into the shadows and away from the feast.

A pair of hands grabbed her roughly, pulling her to the longhouse wall by her elbow and the fur tied to her shoulders. Randvi's lips on hers were insistent, but just as playful and teasing as she'd been all night. Eivor's palm braced her right beside Randvi's head and her groan was so deep, so guttural, it sounded like an animalistic growl.

"You're riled up." Randvi's voice, though meant to be teasing and playful, was far too breathless and needy to do anything but spur Eivor along.

"I wonder why," Eivor griped. "You tease me, woman."

Randvi hummed, wrapping her arms tight around Eivor's neck and pulling her further down. Her hips rolled against Eivor's and this, this is what Eivor had wanted all night.

“I would stop if you weren't so fun to tease.” Randvi whispered against her lips.

There was a rustle in the bushes beside them and Randvi stilled. Eivor turned her head, kissing along her jaw and stopping at her ear. “What do you see?”

Randvi squinted into the darkness as Eivor reached slowly for her axe at her belt. There was more movement. “We're under attack.” Randvi said, reaching for her own hammer.

Eivor's blood ran cold and she shoved Randvi towards the longhouse door. “Go!” Eivor whipped around to face a growing number of enemies emerging from the darkness. They lit their torches the moment they'd been discovered and Eivor could see perhaps a dozen or so moving through Ravensthorpe.

Randvi reacted as quickly as Eivor did. “Raiders! To arms!” She bellowed into the longhouse. Her tone left little room for argument.

Eivor threw her axe at the nearest enemy as he wound back his arm to toss his torch onto the longhouse roof. Another rushed past her towards Randvi as their raiders flooded from the longhouse to join the fray.

Eivor stopped him cold by grabbing the back of his braids and yanking him back. His feet flew from beneath him and she used his momentum to slam him into the ground and shove her knife upwards into his skull through his jaw.

Their raiders, even drunk, made quick work of the invading party. Eivor quickly lost track of Randvi in the battle, and once the last of the invaders fell, she panted, desperately searching the crowd for her wife. Eventually, Randvi moved through the crowd towards her, they'd migrated towards the docks as they chased the invaders away.

Randvi's gaze met Eivor's from afar, and with a steely, short nod, Eivor relaxed. As Randvi approached, Eivor could see the blood splattered across her face and dripping from the hammer in her hand, a bruise already bloomed across her cheek.

"Eivor!" Dag called from behind just as Randvi came to a stop beside Eivor.

Dag dragged along a ragged Dane by the back of his collar. The Dane cradled his right shoulder with his other hand, blood rhythmically pulsing from between his fingers. His face had taken on an ashen pallor and Eivor would be surprised if he lived longer than a few days. If he survived the night, he would likely die of infection sooner rather than later.

"The only survivor," Dag reported.

Eivor frowned at him, and Dag kicked the back of his knees, knocking him to the ground to kneel at her feet. He yanked back his hair, angling his axe blade against his throat. "Danes attacking this settlement, who sent you?"

The man bared his teeth, though, as the axe blade pressed further into the sensitive flesh stretched across his artery, he seemed to rethink his loyalty. "Rued sends his regards from East Anglia."

"Eivor," Randvi nudged her elbow. "Let him go. Send a message to this Rued. Send a message to his men. Those that are sent to Ravensthorpe never return."

Dag scoffed. "Nonsense, he should die. This bacraut deserves to rot in the mud."

"Eivor," Eivor turned to meet Randvi's stone cold expression. "Let him go."

"Sigurd would-"

"Kill him."

Dag grinned then, his axe blade pierced the Dane's throat with a swift slash across his artery, and blood gushed down his chest as he fell, sputtering, to the ground. He lasted only a few seconds longer. "Finally! A sound decision!" He threw his hands into the air, sauntering off with pride.

Randvi rolled her eyes, leveling a heated glare at Eivor. She met it with a shrug and Randvi scoffed, turning away. "I cannot advise you if you refuse my advice!" She called back, thoroughly angry, storming back to the longhouse.

The attempted raid dampened the feast quite a bit, and it took little convincing for the residents of Ravensthorpe to return home to sleep off their buzzing heads in safety.

Randvi had disappeared, and Eivor assumed it was to sulk in her war room. That room in the longhouse was Randvi's domain, and Eivor found herself more and more timid as she encroached, even for business. Randvi reigned there, and Eivor simply visited.

But Randvi was not in the war room, and instead, Eivor found her in their quarters, angrily scrubbing at the dried blood beneath her fingernails. She frowned down as if her hands had personally insulted her, and yet Eivor knew that she only looked that way at her hands because Eivor was smart enough to make herself scarce as the raiders disposed of the dead.

She wasn't particularly quiet, but she did her best not to impose as Randvi stewed in her frustration. But she couldn't stay away long, not after such a battle.

Eivor approached her slowly, coming to a stop beside her. Randvi's hands were plenty clean, and she'd since washed her face, but she scrubbed anyway, likely to keep from turning her fury onto Eivor. Though she knew she deserved it, Eivor was certainly grateful for the reprieve.

"Darling," She whispered, bringing her fingertips to turn Randvi's chin to her.

With a jerk, Randvi pushed away from her, grunting something of a response. She wrung the cloth into the pinkened water and scowled, quite childishly.

"Darling," Eivor insisted, turning Randvi's head again to inspect the darkened bruise causing her cheek to swell. Eivor clicked her tongue as she brushed her fingertips across the worst of it. "I'm sorry-"

"Why? You should be consulting your brilliant advisor, Dag."

Eivor rolled her eyes, frowning at Randvi's acidic tone. "You know I value your opinion-"

"Do you? I could have had my scouts follow him to their camp. We would know more about Rued and his Danes tomorrow than we ever will now."

Eivor sighed. "I made a decision, Randvi. I couldn't choose both."

"You chose wrong. You were brash and reckless. You favored vengeance over forethought, and that is foolish beyond counsel." Randvi slapped the rag down onto the table. "What will you do now? Charge into East Anglia, enemy soil, and call for the closest Dane interested in killing you?"

"I will wait for orders from my most trusted companion." Eivor shrugged. "She would not steer me into undue danger."

The compliment flustered Randvi enough to melt some of her furious glaring. "I can't do that unless I have information."

"You will get it, my love." Eivor's lips twitched into the slightest smile. "You fight like a vision."

"No-"

"What a sight, Randvi." Eivor smiled then, leaning just a little further down. “You were a vision in the moonlight. Can you imagine the distraction? Your hair danced like the torch flames lighting our path." Eivor tilted her head closer, she couldn't staunch the fervor falling from her lips, no matter how hard she tried. "When the wolves howl, they sing of your battle-dance. You-”

Randvi interrupted her with a kiss. She pulled away only just as Eivor lost her train of thought. "That's enough. You mustn't spin your poet's verses while I'm angry with you."

"How else am I to charm you into forgetting your anger?"

"By not making me angry." Randvi smirked. "You are trouble, Wolf-Kissed. A big-headed, stubborn-hearted, troublesome drengr."

"Am I forgiven?"

"Hardly."

"Then let me spin you another few verses."

"Sigurd has sent word." Randvi announced one night. She'd wandered distracted by a letter into their quarters as Eivor cared for their leathers. "He will be returning to Ravensthorpe shortly. He heard of the raid the other night."

"I'm sure he's furious." Eivor mumbled under her breath.

"That would be correct."

Eivor sighed, stretching her neck. "What do you think? I want to find this Rued."

"East Anglia is a big place. We have allies in the shire directly west. Perhaps Soma will know more of East Anglia's concerns."

Eivor thought for a moment. "I'll head for Grantebridge as soon as Sigurd returns. I won't leave Ravensthorpe vulnerable to attack."

Randvi nodded, placing the letter on the desk to Eivor's side. She took a seat beside Eivor and watched the repetitive movements Eivor used to clean their leathers. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"Grantebridge. Tell me about it."

Eivor smiled, sparing a glance to her wife. "It's a bustling town. Rivers and forests just barely take over the Roman ruins."

Randvi sighed wistfully. "I'd love to see it one day."

"Come with me."

Randvi let out a laugh, but her laughter died down when she recognized Eivor to be serious. "I'm stuck here."

"With Sigurd here, you'll have time to leave that dark room you call a kingdom." Eivor shrugged. "You haven't met Soma yet, I think you'd like her. Come with me to Grantebridge."

"You think I should?"

“Humor me, won't you?” Eivor grinned sideways at her. “I have married a beautiful woman and I find she is neither impressed with poems nor feats of strength. Even if I cannot make you happy, at least I may show the whole of England how fortunate I am to have such a wife at my side. How can I do so if you are hidden away?”

Randvi hummed, unimpressed. “So you wish to make the great Saxon kings jealous?”

“Don't they deserve it? Squabbling over piety and taxes.” Eivor scoffed. “I wish to show you the lands you send me to conquer, the world beyond Ravensthorpe. You deserve to see the lands we now call home.”

“You have always had a poet's heart Eivor, but even you could not do such lands justice.” Randvi rested her chin upon Eivor's shoulder, gesturing into the distance. “I'd like to see that tower up close some day.”

“It's a beauty. It stands halfway sunken in the center of a lake. A waterfall feeds the river beneath it and fish swim among the Roman treasures in the water.”

Randvi sighed dreamily. “Take me there soon?”

Eivor tangled her fingers with Randvi's as they rested just at her belt. “My love, I will take you anywhere you wish to go.”

“Tell me about Soma. She is well-regarded among her people. Birna is quite taken with her. Or was.”

“She is a fearsome warrior and honorable leader. She sparks loyalty in her people that cannot be shaken.” Eivor's lips twitched into a small smile. “She is perhaps distant personally, but she is no less generous to her subjects. You were right to send me to her first.”

Randvi grew silent as they continued along the path. Eivor couldn't see her, though she imagined the wonder dawning across her face as they reached the summit of the hill overlooking Grantebridge.

“There it is.” Eivor grinned. “We're almost there. You can stretch your legs soon.”

As they approached the gates, Randvi remained silent and strangely stiff as Eivor dismounted and led their horse towards the stables. Randvi ignored Eivor's offered hand to help her down, simply swinging off the horse as easily as any Norse noblewoman should.

Eivor led her through Grantebridge, pointing towards different vendors and merchant stalls along the market towards the longhouse. She couldn't contain some of her excitement. She'd enjoyed her time with Soma, and she knew Randvi would have a grand time questioning her on the minutiae of running a settlement as large as Grantebridge. There was so much to learn from her, and Eivor knew Randvi valued intellect over valor any day.

They entered the longhouse not long after their arrival in Grantebridge, and though Soma was deep in conversation with her remaining advisor, she welcomed them with open arms.

“Eivor, my friend.” Soma stepped forward, grasping Eivor's arm in amenable greeting. “Welcome, as always. I heard of the attack on Ravensthorpe. I'd expected a visit some weeks ago.”

“Thank you, Soma.” Eivor grinned. “I waited for our Jarl to return from his visits to the Ragnarssons. I couldn't leave Ravensthorpe vulnerable with this new enemy.”

Soma seemed to recognize Randvi beside Eivor around the time Eivor remembered they had not been introduced. “Welcome to Grantebridge.” Soma nodded to her and Eivor turned to Randvi proudly.

“Yes, my wife, Randvi. She has ventured from her war table in Ravensthorpe to explore Grantebridge.” Eivor said.

“It's a pleasure to meet you.” Soma nodded her head, offering her arm in greeting. Randvi took it, sparing an annoyed look Eivor's way.

“Likewise. These are beautiful lands. I haven't seen quite such shades of green.” Randvi said politely. “My wife fancies herself a poet, though she has yet to capture the grandeur of your city.”

Soma's usually stony expression cracked into a broad grin. “Well, Eivor cannot be expected to have the words. She's hardly spoken of you,” she said. Soma turned again to Eivor. “You do your wife a disservice. She's lovely.”

“Soma!” One of her men called, and Soma nodded a farewell to them both.

“Make yourself at home. We eat well tonight.”

A thrall stepped forward to show Eivor and Randvi to spare quarters they may use for the night. Randvi led the way into the quarters, running her fingers along the simplistic furniture meant to house guests for weeks at a time. They'd only be spending one night, but the bed and the warm hearth were more than welcome.

Eivor stretched her shoulders as Randvi set about organizing their space for the night. “She's handsome,” Randvi said, back still turned to Eivor.

Eivor smiled fondly and watched Randvi shuffle around the room. “She is.”

“Have you slept with her?”

The question knocked Eivor fully off balance. “What?”

“You heard me.” Randvi shrugged, refusing to turn. “Have you?”

“No,” Eivor said, brows furrowed as she stared at Randvi's tensing shoulders.

“Don't sound quite so disappointed.” Randvi finally turned. The corners of her lips tugged down into a frown as their gaze met. Eivor, more confused than angry, and Randvi as perplexing as always.

“I don't understand."

Randvi deflated, nodding to the floor. She looked back up, her eyebrows pinched together and that frown marred her features. "I apologize, Eivor. Our marriage is political. If you are to keep lovers, you must do so subtly. I will not be made a fool in front of our people." Her voice, though stern, choked through each word.

"I have done no such thing." Eivor felt the familiar bubbling of her temper boil up. "Why do you accuse me of this?"

Randvi shrugged sourly. "I'm sorry. Soma is just..." she trailed off. "She's everything I wish that I could be. And you admire her so. It was a moment of weakness."

Some of the bubbling anger melted away at Randvi's miserable apology. Rarely did Randvi regret anything that she said, so naturally, apologies were sparse in their relationship.

Eivor shook her head, letting her lip curl in disgust. “You accuse me of these awful traits and deeds. You think so lowly of me, I wonder how you can stand to be around me.”

Randvi looked as if she'd been struck across the face, but before she could say much more, Eivor turned her back and left the room in a storm.

“I must speak with Soma. We shouldn't delay if Rued threatens Ravensthorpe.” She called over her shoulder and the door slammed behind her.

It took longer than expected for Eivor to calm down. It had been Soma to finally knock her head back into place.

Soma heaved a sigh, shuffling a detailed ledger to the side. “Why are you truly so angry? Is it wrong for a wife to be upset by adultery?”

Eivor crossed her arms with a petulant grumble. “She throws accusations at me as if I have ever done anything to deserve them. What cause does she have to distrust my loyalty?”

“Perhaps she doesn't have one.”

The boredom in Soma's tone only served to needle Eivor further, and when Soma cracked a smile, Eivor recognized Soma's intention to bother her. “Then she is simply cruel.”

“Or insecure,” Soma said. “Eivor, have you not ever been in love?”

Eivor stared at Soma with a dawning sense of dread deep in her gut. “My life before now has been dedicated to vengeance. I never had the time.”

“And are you in love now?”

Eivor's heart stopped a moment. She blinked in a daze before she wheezed: “yes.”

“Have you told her?”

“No!” Eivor swore she'd taken a blow to the gut. “She thinks so poorly of me-”

“Gods you're dense.” Soma rolled her eyes. “She is diverting attention away from herself. It is easier to criticize the subject of your affection than it is to admit vulnerability.”

Eivor glared at the ground. "It is childish."

Soma shrugged. "Often, yes. But you love her."

Eivor wanted to throw something against the wall, wanted to destroy something for all of the emotion pent high in her chest. Why did love make her so angry? Why must it all be so painful? Didn't she deserve relief from heartbreak? For years she spent dwelling in the pain of love and loss. She'd replaced all of her love for anger and vengeance. Now she had her vengeance.

Now she had Randvi.

She'd found a bench not far from the longhouse door to stew on as she contemplated the complexities of love and heartbreak. She hadn't bothered to hide, so she wasn't particularly surprised when Randvi sought her out after a few hours and found her leaning against the longhouse wall, watching the bustling of town.

Randvi took a seat beside her, not even bothering to look out at the crowd, she watched Eivor's profile instead. "I have something for you." She finally spoke after several long moments.

That threw Eivor off. She glanced to Randvi in curiosity as she pulled something from the pouch at her belt.

"I've been working on it for a little while now. ” Randvi said sheepishly, avoiding eye contact. “I didn't know a good time to give it to you.”

Finally, she looked up through her lashes, a habit of hers that Randvi didn't know she did, but distracted Eivor every single time. She offered the small token in one hand, taking Eivor's hand in her other palm to place it.

“A peace offering.”

Eivor looked down. In her palm was an entire necklace, carefully braided and knotted in intricate patterns, held center a bone carving. A raven skull, so detailed and polished that it was clear Randvi had spent hours upon hours on the carving alone.

It took a while for Eivor to beat back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't do much other than look at it, inspecting every detail.

“I was,” Randvi paused. “I was lonely when you first left. And then you kept leaving to travel England, and it only got worse. When I worked on that, it was usually late at night when I couldn't help but imagine all the terrible things that could happen to you. It kept me sane, I think.”

“You're better at this than I am.” Eivor muttered, gesturing to the skull.

Randvi smiled, and though it wasn't the room brightening smile Eivor came to love, it was a smaller smile, a special smile that she would keep tucked away in her mind forever. “I finished it not long ago. I just wasn't sure when to give it to you.” Randvi bit at her lip. “It feels vulnerable.”

Eivor had reached up to brush her knuckle across Randvi's cheek long before she realized her hand had moved at all. Randvi caught Eivor's hand in her palm, turning her head to plant a kiss to the back of her scarred and calloused knuckles. Something as soft as Randvi's lips touching Eivor's knuckles, it was a strange feeling. Those hands that had spilled so much Saxon and Norse blood alike, they were precious beneath Randvi's lips.

The words caught in her throat before she could say them. A terror gripped her chest as she thought of Randvi cringing away, disgusted and offended by Eivor's affection. Someone she knew to be arrogant and coarse and merciless, someone so cruel as to marry a woman and drag her away from everything she knew, someone who abandoned the treaty to bring them together as quickly as it had been signed, could never love her the way that she deserved to be loved.

“Why do you not seek a divorce?” Eivor asked, instead.

“I don't want one.”

“But why not, Randvi?” Eivor pushed. “Why don't you hate me? I've taken so much from you-”

“Nothing that wasn't freely given.” Randvi whispered. The way her eyebrows pinched and her frown tugged at her lips, Eivor couldn't be sure if she was sad or angry all over again. "Eivor, I-"

“I need to clear my head.” Eivor interrupted. She shook her head and stood from their seat. “I must speak with Soma about Rued.”

Eivor realized after several paces that this was the same transparent excuse she had given Randvi the last time she sought distance from her wife. Despite this, she refused to turn around, and instead disappeared into the crowd.

The feast died down without seeing hide nor hair of the drengr from the neighboring clan. By the time Eivor climbed down from the heights above Grantebridge, the fires dwindled and the world grew dark, only lit by the waxing moon.

She entered the longhouse silently, and picked her way around drunken raiders and discarded mugs. She approached the door to their chambers for the night and stopped to take a breath.

If Randvi had not left her alone, had stayed behind as a dutiful wife, Eivor would fall to her knees. This love she had lucked into, simply fallen across as if the gods meant it to be so, she could not let it go so easily. If Randvi was gone, then Eivor was to blame, her foolish heart betrayed her by falling in love with a woman who shared her bed only because their clans demanded it.

The door creaked as it swung open and the latch scraped against the wood as it settled into place. Eivor looked up to find Randvi, beautiful Randvi, mostly undressed and ready to slip into bed. She stood to the side, shifting her weight between her bare feet.

Eivor's shoulders slumped in relief, and Randvi wiped at her face quickly. She'd been crying, and it had been Eivor to put those tears in her eyes.

“Come to me,” Eivor said, allowing her voice to grate. She'd never quite liked her voice since that night she'd nearly lost her throat to the wolves. But it never failed to send Randvi into a fit of shivers, and she did not hesitate to fall into Eivor's arms.

Randvi's lips trembled against hers as Eivor hugged her waist tight. She would never take this feeling for granted, this feeling of Randvi braced against her chest. Randvi's fingers curled around the collar of her overclothes, and as they switched angles to deepen the kiss, Randvi's breath shuddered.

“What is wrong-”

“Do this for me.” Randvi whimpered. She pulled back, her eyes shut tight and her eyebrows furrowed as if fending off crushing pain. “Do this, Eivor. Lie to me, tonight.”

Eivor's grip on her waist tightened. “I will not lie to you.”

“Tonight, I need you to.” Randvi opened her bloodshot eyes, and tears spilled over quicker than before. “Tell me that you love me as I love you. Tell me that there is no one else, that I am the only one you hold. Lie to me, and tell me that you are as much mine as I am yours. Eivor, please. Let you be mine, just for tonight.”

Eivor watched in dawning horror as Randvi begged, pressing her palms to Eivor's chest.

“I can live as your wife, even if you bed others, but gods, Eivor, I need you to be mine tonight.” Randvi shook her head, tears streaming ever quicker. She stifled a sob. “Just tonight, I will never ask this of you again. Just let me believe you love me.”

Eivor stared, aghast, as Randvi waited, pleading for her. “I can't.”

She let out a sob, and Eivor pulled her in to let Randvi cry against her chest. Randvi shook with the force of her pain. Nausea bubbled in Eivor's stomach, and she struggled not to pull away from her wife to wretch onto the floor.

Randvi grew faint as the fire dwindled and the force of her sobs slowed. Eivor swiped her knees and pulled her up to hold Randvi tight to her chest.

“No matter how much you beg. I will never lie to you.” Eivor whispered as Randvi's eyelids grew heavy. She climbed into bed, fully clothed, and settled Randvi to lay against her as she drifted to sleep.

That night, Eivor didn't sleep at all.

Chapter Text

There would normally be some level of amusement among Eivor and her new Dane allies at young King Oswald's coronation. The Saxons squirmed and struggled to drink with Rued's corpse dumped unceremoniously to the side of the festivities, as was not uncommon for the heathens of the north to do when celebrating the triumph of a king over his gravest enemy.

Eivor drank and carried along the merriment as best she could. The weeks in East Anglia had allowed the wound on her heart to begin the healing process, though the prospect of returning to Ravensthorpe caused the ache in her chest to return anew. She had not expected to come to admire Oswald of East Anglia, until she watched him, his crown placed atop his head, pace the crowds to approach his Dane bride.

Valdis was a stoic woman, and though she came to admire Oswald as much as Eivor had, it was plain to see that the death of her former husband at the hands of her next had shaken her resolve. Oswald bowed his head to her, taking her hand between his palms. With a gentleness that Dane women rarely saw from their arranged marriages, he pressed his lips to her knuckles and spoke to her in a tone too low for anyone to hear over the music of the celebration.

A small twitch at the corners of her mouth was enough for Eivor. This marriage, though not conceived out of love, would be an amicable one. Perhaps, love could bloom between them with time.

Eivor took several gulps of her mead, grimacing at the bitter thoughts running through her head. What a fool she was! A marriage she did not want with a woman she did not know, had taken root in her heart. This woman with a head of flames and a mind sharper than the blades Gunnar forged had agreed to spend her life with Eivor, had given her loyalty and love to her, and Eivor, the fool, squandered it with grand promises and empty gestures.

Randvi believed herself unloved. Eivor could not let that stand.

Valdis’ brother, Broder, made a lazy pass at Eivor at one point during the festivities. Eivor let him down gently. She'd had enough of breaking hearts. Luckily, Broder was more embarrassed than upset, and the two jumped into a drinking competition just as quickly.

Waking in the field where the cows roamed was a less than pleasant experience. Three heifers stood watching as Eivor groaned and struggled to her feet. She retched onto the ground and stumbled away. She would return home.

She neglected to ride as hard as she would normally, instead, she and her favorite mare wandered through the hills of England leisurely. During one break for water and rest, Eivor scribbled a letter to give to her wife, though she doubted it would ever see the light of day. No words could fix what Eivor had broken with silence.

No matter how much she dragged her feet, even stretching her journey from one day to two, Ravensthorpe still came into view in the distance. She came from the east, and it wasn't until she reached the hill overlooking Ravensthorpe that she realized she would be returning to share her victory with Sigurd, not Randvi.

The people of Ravensthorpe greeted her with enthusiasm, asking her of her journeys. The kids excitedly told her stories of their own adventures. They asked her questions about Saxon kings and deadly draugr and mighty dragons.

And despite them all, Eivor struggled to smile.

Entering the longhouse, Eivor took a breath before heading towards the war room. Dust filtered through the sunlight pouring through the rafters. If she could slow down time, she would.

Sigurd stood at the desk Randvi kept in the corner, back to the door as he held a letter in his hand. Randvi adjusted a pawn atop the map on the center table and glanced up at Eivor's silent presence.

There was a split second where the corner of Randvi's eyes crinkled into a joyful smile. But as quickly as the moment came, it passed and Randvi stiffened. She smiled politely, and approached to greet Eivor as a wife should, but they both knew it was out of duty and a show to Sigurd than it was affection.

“It's good to see you, Eivor.” Randvi brushed her fingertips across Eivor's shoulders. “Have you settled in? Tell us what happened.”

Sigurd glanced up, and his broad grin was far friendlier than Randvi's. “Eivor! Good news, I hope?”

Eivor bowed her head, smiling at her brother. “Yes, East Anglia is stable under a new king, Oswald has sworn an oath to our clan. The baucrat that attacked Ravensthorpe is dead.”

Sigurd cheered, launching into a new speech detailing his plans to travel back to the Ragnarssons with Basim. When Eivor glanced back to her wife, Randvi was watching her with a fond smile. Her smile faltered when they made eye contact, but Eivor returned that secretive smile as Sigurd talked, and Randvi relaxed.

He gestured broadly over the map, and Eivor struggled to pay much attention. Their jarl would be gone once more, and frankly, Eivor had other concerns.

Randvi remained just out of reach, and Eivor's palms itched with the instinct to pull her close. Randvi was beautiful and it usually drove Eivor mad with frustration after being apart for so long. Eivor hardly wanted to do anything more than hold Randvi tight against her chest and let the tension in her muscles relax with the comfort of her proximity.

Eventually, Sigurd finished speaking and seemed perfectly content with the following silence. Neither Eivor nor Randvi listened to a word he said.

“Very well. I should finish settling in. I'm filthy.” Eivor nodded her head to Sigurd and tried not to moon over Randvi too pathetically as she made her way to their quarters in the longhouse.

Eivor hadn't noticed how the day had wound down to an end while they were tucked away surrounding the map. She felt the exhaustion of the past weeks weighing heavily on her bones.

She collapsed onto the bed with a huff, slumping downwards and pouting at her boots. It took her several minutes before she finally gathered the motivation to unlace them and begin the long process of removing her armor and leathers for cleaning and storage.

Her undershirt had been fully soiled by travel and drinking the day before, so she discarded most of her clothes aside from her cotton pants and chest wrappings, though those were due to come off as soon as she longed for bed.

The door opened slowly, and though it was hardly a sudden or unexpected movement. Eivor nearly startled from her skin anyway.

A flash of amusement crossed Randvi's face as quickly as a lightning strike, and Eivor rolled her eyes playfully. They danced a stiff, delicate number between them, neither sure where the other stood. Eivor finally heaved a sigh.

“I was lost in my thoughts.”

“I can see. Still, I didn't mean to startle you.”

Randvi clicked the door shut and paced further into the room, awkwardly shifting her weight around with no clear direction or distraction ready.

Eivor turned back to her leathers as she prepared the oils. She frowned at a slight scratch in the hide she hadn't noticed before.

"These Christians are so strange to me." Eivor muttered to the leather, though she wouldn't mind if Randvi joined the conversation she held with herself. “The new king in East Anglia is a Christian.”

"Hm? Yes, they walk as if they have sticks lodged high in places they should not be." Randvi smirked to herself as she wandered to her desk absently. "They think of us as abominations."

"They think everything is an abomination."

Randvi stopped to stare at the wall, frowning in thought. "Us, more so than others.”

Eivor leaned back away from her work, glancing at her wife. "How so?"

"We are women leading a clan." Randvi shifted her balance between her feet. "Without the- how would they say -company of men."

"They think such trivial things to be important in the eyes of beings far greater than us." Eivor shook her head. "I always thought their piety seemed so false. They humble themselves before a martyr, a skinny, pathetic man strung up by one of his trusted allies. What is there to worship?"

Randvi shrugged. "Yet, we sing the praises of warriors slaughtering warriors. We make no distinction between a man dying for vengeance or for love."

"Not me.”

“And what would you choose to worship?" Randvi asked, almost blandly enough to convince Eivor that she wasn't listening intently.

Eivor turned then, watching her wife read through half-written notes. Some in the runes of their language, others in the odd shapes of the Saxon English. Randvi’s hair was loose this night. Eivor would guess she'd undone her braids in a fit of frustration after she'd encountered one too many tangles while balancing the ledgers.

"I asked Ceolbert once why the Christians kneeled before their idols." Eivor changed the subject. "I was curious. Why kneel before an idol? Clearly, the idol is not the god himself. And kneeling? What self-respecting god would demand such debasing from his subjects?"

"And what did he tell you?"

"He didn't have much of an answer."

Randvi chuckled lightly at that. "So you are left to wonder to this day."

"I disagree." Eivor took a step closer to her, though Randvi still did not turn. "I've come to an understanding since then.”

"That is?"

"It's not debasing to lower oneself. To humble oneself." Eivor looked away then to scowl at the ground at her feet. "These Christians kneel to their god because they are humbled by their devotion. Their love."

"But they don't kneel to their god. They worship idols."

"They do."

"So what is different about you?"

Eivor fell to her knees then, a soft thump that brought Randvi’s attention away from one of her letters. When she turned, her eyes widened just a fraction as Eivor stared back up at her. She could feel tears prickling at her eyes as she waited for Randvi to speak, and when she didn’t, Eivor reached for her hand. She held Randvi’s fingers tight between her palms.

"I do not worship idols. I kneel only for those who deserve my devotion, my love. It is not to debase myself, but because I am overwhelmed with adoration. My legs simply cannot hold that weight." Eivor paused. "These Christians speak of their god as if they know him, though they can't possibly know him truly." Eivor tilted her head, watching as Randvi allowed tears to fall down her face. "I know you, Randvi. And there is no one else I can imagine kneeling for. No god or goddess could compare. You are not holy. You are everything to me, everything that a god could never be."

Randvi tugged her hand from Eivor's grip, reaching instead to pull her back to her feet. Eivor stepped in closer, allowing Randvi to pull her close by the back of her neck. She rested their foreheads together and Randvi took a shaky breath. "Eivor-"

"You asked me to lie to you." Eivor whispered. "I couldn't. Those weeks ago, there was nothing more I wanted to say but to give voice to this love. I couldn't, Randvi. Not when you would believe it a lie. You must know the truth of it. You must understand, like the Christians and their god, your name is holy upon my tongue.”

Randvi closed her eyes tight. Eivor couldn't be sure if she were debating in her head the truth of her words, or simply trying to keep any more traitorous tears from falling. Her fingertips fell from the back of her neck towards Eivor's collarbone. Her hands stopped right at the pinnacle of the cord she kept there.

Randvi opened her eyes, ever curious, and stared. Almost in disbelief, she fiddled with the carved raven skull between her fingertips. “You kept it.”

Eivor struggled then. She'd bared her soul to this woman. Vulnerability had never been Eivor's strength, and she wanted to talk about a gifted necklace? “Yes?”

Randvi's lips trembled. “Why?”

Eivor blinked rapidly, glancing between Randvi's bloodshot eyes and the raven skull Randvi held. “It was a gift.”

“I don't-”

“You told me it kept you sane when I was away.” Eivor muttered. “I'm a fool Randvi, but I know as well as you do the terrible things that can happen to me out there. I wanted to remind myself that I had a reason to come home.” Eivor struggled to continue eye contact. “There are better places to be than Valhalla. One of them is here, with you.”

“And the others?”

Eivor couldn't stop a slow smile from creeping across her face. “Over there,” Eivor nodded to the bed. “With you.”

Randvi's answering laughter was wet, almost ugly. She'd spent so much time crying in the last few weeks, Eivor imagined she hadn't expected to laugh. “Gods, Eivor.”

Eivor pulled Randvi to her chest, wrapping her tight in her arms. She placed a soft, affectionate kiss to the crown of her head, and finally, she allowed her own tears to fall. “I love you.”

A full body shiver ran down Randvi's spine,  and Eivor whispered those words again, and again, and again.

It was clear that they had completely entrenched themselves in each other's lives when almost nothing changed following Eivor's confession. Truthfully, perhaps they'd been in love the whole time.

It was a bit like a miserable hangover at first. The leftover feelings of dread and heartache lingered even knowing how the other felt. But ever so slowly, Randvi's playful smile returned and her affection grew bolder.

“Must you leave?” Randvi asked with a sigh. “He has Basim and you are here to run the clan while he gallivants across England looking for glory. I don't understand what you could possibly do that he couldn't do himself.”

“It's not my place to question our jarl.” Eivor mumbled sleepily against Randvi's bare shoulder. Already halfway asleep, Eivor shifted just barely to pull her wife closer. “You wouldn't suggest I ignore his orders.”

Eivor could imagine Randvi's scowl. “Your brother is a nuisance.”

“You're just upset that I have to leave in the morning.”

“Yes, but I'm also correct.”

Eivor hummed, smiling despite herself. “What do you think? Will we raid some Saxon monastery? What riches should I bring home to you?”

“Just this once, come home without a new scar.” Randvi turned over in their bed to tuck herself closer to Eivor, she ran her fingernail across the scar bisecting her chest tattoos. “This one was bad enough for a lifetime.”

“Did you know then?”

Randvi scoffed. “Eivor, I was madly in love with you from the beginning. You're just dense.”

Eivor grinned. “You didn't say anything?”

“Your ego would be too much.” Randvi rolled her eyes. “Do you think you would have done anything but run away like a startled doe?”

“I think I would have melted.”

“My point proven.”

Eivor stroked the loose waves of Randvi's hair. “I have never loved anyone the way that I adore you.” She paused. “I would marry you, but I've already done so.”

Randvi's eyes sparkled, this unabashed joy sent Eivor tumbling further. “You are awfully soft for such a legendary drengr.”

Eivor kissed her, enjoying the soft press of her lips as they moved together slowly. There was no need to rush, no desperate hunger. Randvi was hers to hold, and she would never let go again.

“Stay here for me, just like this.” Eivor whispered. “Naked and drowsy, let the world turn on but leave us here.”

“Is that a prayer?”

“Perhaps. If there is any god listening, let them hear me now.” Eivor pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let them grant me a lifetime with you.”