Bees hummed lazily across the meadow grass, their gentle drone mingling with distant sounds of hammering and bustle as Skogstrand slowly rebuilt itself. The midday sun shone brightly overhead, warming the newly raised houses, while the scent of pine resin and freshly cut wood carried on the breeze.
Sigrida rested her crutch against a fallen log, grateful for Harald''s careful craftsmanship. The carved wood had been smoothed and padded where it braced against her arm, allowing her to move independently despite the healing wound in her calf. After eight days, the pain had dulled to a manageable ache, though she still walked with a slight limp.
She absently rubbed her leg as she watched Liv and Lina chase each other through the tall grass at the village perimeter. The twins'' animated chatter washed over her, familiar and comforting after days of tension and healing.
"Do you think Sigurd noticed which of us was which last night?" Hilde asked, twirling a strand of her mousy brown braid around her finger.
"He thinks he does," Hervor replied with a smirk. "Poor man still can’t tell half the time."
"He tries so hard to tell us apart," Hervor said fondly. "Always studying our freckles."
"And still gets it wrong," Hilde laughed.
"Harald''s not so bad either," Hilde mused, "if a bit stiff around the shoulders."
"Harald?" Hervor''s eyebrows shot up. "The man who never says anything that isn''t purposeful?"
"He has kind eyes," Hilde said defensively. "And did you know he has a little daughter? Ylva. She''s adorable - all golden curls and stubbornness."
"Of course I know about Ylva," Hervor said, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows about Ylva. Remember how she climbed right into Yrsa''s lap last night? Bold as you please!"
Sigrida smiled, letting their conversation flow around her while she gazed up at the hillside where Torbjorn''s temporary hall stood. Movement caught her eye - a tall figure was making his way down toward the village, his long strides resolute despite the steep slope. Brandr. She unconsciously straightened her dress, smoothing the fabric over her knees.
She watched as he paused occasionally, bending to pluck something from the ground before continuing his descent. The warriors he passed straightened respectfully, but he seemed distracted, his attention fixed on whatever he was gathering.
"Sigrida!" His voice carried across the distance as he quickened his pace.
"Someone''s eager," Hervor murmured, elbowing her sister.
"Wonder why he''s in such a rush," Hilde replied with exaggerated innocence.
Sigrida felt her pulse quicken as he approached, his tall figure cutting a striking silhouette against the afternoon sky. She noticed something clutched in his hand, though she couldn''t make out what it was from this distance.
Liv and Lina abandoned their play, bounding toward Brandr with enthusiastic barks. Their gray forms circled his legs as he tried to maintain his balance while greeting them.
"Hilde, Hervor," he said warmly, his eyes shifting between the twins before settling on Sigrida. His gaze lingered there, making his intentions clear even as he absently patted the excited hounds. "It''s good to see you well after the battle."
The twins exchanged knowing glances that made Sigrida feel suddenly bashful. Their smiles turned mischievous as they looked between her and Brandr.
"Sister," Hilde turned to Hervor with exaggerated formality, "do you suppose our noble kinsman has come to spend time with us?"
"Perhaps he misses our charming company," Hervor mused. "Or he''s developed a sudden interest in training wolfhounds."
Sigrida bit her lip. Brandr, so confident as he strode down the hill, now stood awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The twins were enjoying his discomfort far too much.
"Though," Hervor added, grinning pointedly at Sigrida, "I suspect he doesn''t want us here at all."
Heat crept up Sigrida''s neck as the twins'' smiles widened. She adjusted her position, leaning more heavily on the crutch Harald had carved for her. When she glanced toward Brandr, she found his eyes still fixed on her.
Hervor''s sharp eyes met her sister''s. "You know, Hilde, I suspect we''re not wanted here," she murmured, lips twitching.
"Mmm," Hilde agreed, fighting back a grin. "Come on, Liv, Lina. Sigurd promised to show us that cliff overlook today."
"The one with the pine forests and fern fronds?" Hervor nodded eagerly. "Now there''s someone who''ll properly appreciate our company."
"He said the view of the sea is unmatched and the pine scents are especially sweet there," Hilde added with a pleased smile, whistling for the dogs.
"We''ll certainly enjoy that setting more than being unwanted here," Hervor said, eyes twinkling.
"Farewell, dear cousin," Hervor called, offering an exaggerated bow to Brandr. "We''re off to find companions who truly appreciate our delightful company."
"Good fortune with your... conversation," Hilde added with a knowing smile, her eyes darting between them.
"We''ll see you later," Sigrida called softly after them, her smile grateful though her heart quickened at the prospect of being alone with Brandr. She laughed lightly as the twins trounced away with their hounds bounding at their heels. As fond as she was of the pair, she''d been hoping for a moment alone with him before tomorrow''s departure.
Sigrida watched them disappear down the path before turning to face Brandr. The silence between them seemed suddenly vast without the twins'' chatter to fill it. She found her fingers unconsciously twisting a strand of golden hair and quickly dropped her hand, embarrassed by the nervous gesture she''d never quite outgrown.
They stood there for a moment, neither quite meeting the other''s eyes. Brandr shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still clutching his small collection of meadow plants. Sigrida searched for something to break the tension.
"You spoke well at the fealty ceremony," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "When you presented the blue cloak with Fjell?rn''s eagle to Torbjorn... it was a powerful moment."
Brandr''s shoulders relaxed slightly, clearly relieved to have something to discuss, even if it wasn''t why he''d hurried down the hill.
"The alliance needed to be sealed properly," he replied, his expression warming. "My father insisted the eagle emblem be visible to all." His eyes held hers a moment too long, and Sigrida felt something unspoken pass between them.
She dropped her gaze to his hand, noticing for the first time the small bundle he carried. Meadow flowers and herbs, their stems bent and petals somewhat crushed from his grip as he''d hastily gathered them on his way down the hill.
"Did you gather those in the meadow?" she asked softly.
"Oh! Yes... I thought..." Brandr glanced at a gnarled oak nearby at the edge of the village, its broad leaves casting pools of shade on the grass. "Could we sit for a moment? It''s rather warm in the sun."
Sigrida turned toward the tree, limping slightly as she used her crutch to steady herself.
Brandr stepped closer, offering his arm. "Here, let me—"
"I can manage," Sigrida said quickly, though she softened the words with a smile. "It''s healing well. Short distances are no trouble now."
She made her way toward the oak tree, conscious of Brandr watching her movements. The effort of walking still pulled at her healing wound, but she was determined not to show weakness. She lowered herself to sit against the rough trunk, carefully arranging her injured leg before setting the crutch aside.
When she looked up, she caught Brandr staring at her with an expression that made her cheeks flush. He seemed to remember himself then, settling beside her under the dappled shade. She could feel the warmth of him next to her, neither too close nor too far.
For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his gaze moving over her face in a way that made her suddenly self-conscious. Finally, he looked down at the crushed stems in his hand.
"These... these are for you," he said, offering her the bedraggled bouquet. The flowers hung limp and askew, some petals bruised from his grip, others trailing bits of meadow grass where he''d hastily pulled them free.
Sigrida took the flowers carefully, her fingers trembling slightly as she cradled them in her lap. Her throat tightened at the sight of the simple gift. Though crushed and mishandled, they''d been gathered with purpose, with her in mind. She traced the delicate petals and stems, dirt still clinging to their roots, a tender smile softening her features. At Fjell?rn, she''d watched other women receive such tokens, believing such gestures would never be meant for someone like her. Yet here they were, resting in her hands—awkward and imperfect, but somehow all the more precious for it.
The realization caught in her throat as she finally lifted her eyes to meet Brandr''s. Words of gratitude wouldn''t come, trapped behind the tightness in her chest.
"I remembered what you taught us," he said softly, his smile growing at her expression. "These heal swelling and ease pain." He gestured toward her wounded calf. "I thought... well, they might help."
Sigrida''s eyes widened as she recognized the herbs from their day in Honningdal''s forest. "Meadowsweet and yarrow," she breathed, wonder filling her voice. Her face transformed with a sudden, radiant smile—not her usual careful expression, but something pure and unrestrained.
Sigrida glanced up to find Brandr watching her intently, his expression transforming from nervousness to something deeper. He seemed momentarily lost for words, his breath catching visibly as he met her eyes. It was strange to see him—always so confident and composed—rendered speechless by her simple smile.
Brandr cleared his throat, seeming to gather his courage before the words rushed out. "Sigrida, I..." He reached for her hand but stopped short, letting his own fall back to the grass. "These past months, watching you grow stronger, seeing your courage in battle... my feelings for you have only deepened."
He leaned forward, his voice soft but urgent, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want to be with you, to build a life together. After Skogstrand, we could return to Fjell?rn, and..." He trailed off, his expression caught between hope and uncertainty.
Sigrida felt the weight of his words settle over her, his vulnerability both touching and painful because of what she knew she must say. Her smile softened to something tender and almost sad. Her fingers ghosted over the herb petals as she gathered her thoughts.
For days she''d watched him moving among the warriors, organizing rebuilding efforts, speaking with quiet authority at the funeral and fealty ceremony. She''d seen what she hadn''t allowed herself to see before—the leader he was becoming, the man his people needed.
"Brandr," she said softly, "I want to say yes. More than you could know." Her voice wavered slightly as she met his gaze. "But I can''t. Tomorrow I leave with Helga."
The hurt that flashed across his face made her heart ache. She leaned forward, her words rushing out. "Please try to understand. All my life, I''ve existed in other people''s worlds, learned to make myself small enough to fit inside their expectations. First as a thrall, then..." She paused, searching for words. "Even now, I''m still learning who I am when I stand on my own. Helga''s offering me a chance to explore that, to test my own independence."
Brandr stared at her for a long moment, his expression lost. Then something shifted in his eyes, a spark of hope kindling. "But Sigrida," he said softly, "you can find yourself with me. I''d never ask you to be small." He leaned closer, his voice warming with conviction. "Remember that night in Honningdal? Under the stars? We talked about sailing to distant shores, facing whatever challenges came our way. You could have that freedom, that independence - with me beside you."
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The familiar eager fire had returned to his eyes, and Sigrida felt herself caught in the warmth of his vision. For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine it - the two of them sailing free under open skies. But the dream faded as quickly as it had formed, and she shook her head slowly.
She looked down at the mangled flowers in her lap, fingers tracing the bruised petals. "There''s so much ahead for you, Brandr. Your people need you - not just as their jarl someday, but as the man you''re becoming." Her voice softened with pride. "I''ve watched you with them. You have your father''s strength, but also a kindness he never learned. The clan will be different under your leadership, better."
"Not just Fjell?rn," she continued, voice quiet but certain. "I''ve seen how you speak with Torbjorn, how you listen to Astrid and Erik. They trust you." Her eyes met his briefly. "After what they''ve endured, that trust doesn''t come easily. Skogstrand will heal under your guidance, and they''ll need that in the difficult seasons ahead."
Brandr started to protest, but Sigrida pressed on. "If we left together, you''d lose all that. And if I stayed..." She met his eyes briefly before looking away. "Your clan will never truly accept me. They''d resent you for choosing me, and that resentment would poison everything you''re meant to accomplish."
"I don''t care what they—" Brandr began, but his voice faltered. The conviction in his words dissipated as reality settled over him. He''d seen the sideways glances when he spent time with Sigrida, heard the whispers that fell silent when he entered rooms. Even his father, who respected him, had made his expectations clear. The weight of generations of tradition couldn''t simply be cast aside, no matter how deeply he wished otherwise.
"But you should care," Sigrida said gently. "It''s who you are, Brandr. Your loyalty to your people, your sense of duty - they''re not burdens to cast aside. They''re what make you the man I..." She trailed off, touching another crushed flower. "I won''t be the reason you''re torn from them, or they from you."
</a>The truth of her words hung in the air between them. Brandr''s expression softened, his usual confidence giving way to quiet recognition as he faced what she had always seen – that he belonged in Veldefold, bound to his clan by more than just birth.
They sat together in silence, understanding settling between them like evening dew. Brandr watched a leaf spiral down from the oak branches, landing beside Sigrida''s hand. Neither moved to break the quiet – words would only deepen the ache in their hearts.
The late summer breeze carried the scent of meadowsweet from the crushed flowers in Sigrida''s lap, mingling with memories of honey-sweet dreams under Honningdal''s stars. She shifted slightly, her shoulder brushing against his, and Brandr closed his eyes at the contact. For now, this was enough – this moment of almost-peace, of what-might-have-been.
As the shadows lengthened across the meadow, Brandr finally broke the silence. "Helga''s crew is fortunate to have you," he said softly. "You''ll be formidable at sea."
Sigrida''s chest tightened at his words. He was letting her go, respecting her choice even as it pained him. This was the Brandr she''d glimpsed that night in Honningdal – thoughtful, genuine, capable of seeing beyond himself.
Without looking at her, he reached for her hand, his fingers finding hers. The warmth of his touch sent a flutter through her that she tried to ignore, even as she allowed her fingers to intertwine with his.
"If you ever want to return..." he said, his voice low but steady.
"I know," she whispered, wanting to say more but finding no words adequate for what she felt – this bittersweet mixture of gratitude and regret, hope and heartache.
For a moment longer they sat hand in hand, neither moving, each committing the feeling to memory. Then, slowly, Sigrida withdrew her fingers from his, the cool air rushing between their palms as they separated.
***Section break***
The scent of roasting meat filled the evening air as flames leapt high above the central fire pit in Skogstrand''s village square. Astrid stood with Sigrida and the twins, sharing a horn of ale between them as Hervor recounted their latest escapade with Liv and Lina. Around another fire, the clan leaders had grown louder with each round of drinking. Kjell''s voice carried across the gathering as he described some ancient battle, drawing a quiet chuckle from Hrothgar. Even Magnus had shed some of his usual gravity, a slight smile playing at his lips as he leaned in to hear Helga''s response.
A short distance away, Astrid noticed Brandr sitting with several warriors, quieter than usual. Though he joined their laughter when required, his gaze frequently drifted toward Sigrida, his expression thoughtful. Each time Sigrida sensed his attention and looked his way, he would offer a slight smile before turning back to his companions. Astrid felt a small twinge of sadness watching their wordless exchange. Despite everything they''d shared, tomorrow would still find them parting ways.
Torbjorn sat with his own horn of ale nearly forgotten in his hand, while Yrsa fussed over Asbjorn and Ingrid''s newborn. Ingrid''s tired smile never wavered as her mother-in-law adjusted the baby''s blanket for the third time. Near their feet, little Ylva played with a carved wooden horse, her golden curls catching the firelight.
Suddenly abandoning her toy, Ylva marched directly to Yrsa with determined steps. With the boldness only a child could muster, she climbed into the woman''s lap, daring anyone to remove her from her newly claimed throne. Yrsa''s attention immediately shifted from the newborn to the determined little girl, her expression softening as Ylva''s eyes began to flutter with sleepiness. Astrid caught Ingrid''s gaze across the fire, the new mother''s shoulders visibly relaxing as she drew her baby closer, finally free to hold him her own way.
The supplies from Magnus''s knarr had allowed the village to enjoy a proper feast, though tomorrow would see them parting ways - Magnus leading his warriors back to Fjell?rn, and Helga sailing north with her crew for the early autumn trading season. But tonight was for celebrating their triumph, for sharing tales and ale until the stars grew dim.
Beside Astrid, Hilde was still wheezing with laughter over their latest source of entertainment. "Did you see?" she managed between giggles. "When Helga told Sigurd he could sit on her lap?"
"His face!" Hervor clutched her sides. "I''ve never seen anyone turn so red."
Astrid smiled, seeking out Sigurd across the village square where he now sat with the other warriors, carefully positioned as far from Helga as possible. Harald sat beside him, his normally stoic expression betraying subtle amusement as he nudged his brother whenever Helga glanced their way. Beside them, Thor''s massive frame shook with barely contained laughter, his deep chortle carrying across the square. Even in the firelight, Sigurd''s ears still glowed pink every time someone raised their horn in his direction.
"We should go torment him some more," Hervor suggested, eyes bright with mischief.
Hilde shook her head, glancing toward where Helga sat with her crew. "No, let''s spend the last of the evening with Helga. She sails at dawn." She nudged her sister. "Sigurd will be here tomorrow night."
"But tomorrow there won''t be such a perfect opportunity to tease him," Hervor argued. "Look at him, still blushing! And Harald''s right there too." She gave her sister a knowing look. "He could use some attention and you seemed interested—all those questions about his daughter."
Hilde''s cheeks flushed. "I was just being friendly. Besides, this is our last chance to hear Helga''s tales about the eastern shores. Remember how we begged Brandr to introduce us?"
"We can speak with Helga anytime on the voyage north," Hervor countered. "She''s invited us to sail with her next season."
Astrid caught Sigrida''s eye, sharing an amused glance as the twins continued their debate, each sister adamant about her preferred evening entertainment.
"Fine," Hilde finally conceded. "We''ll divide our time. First Helga, then your silly teasing."
"Or first Sigurd, then—" Hervor stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she looked past Astrid''s shoulder.
Astrid turned to follow Hervor''s gaze just as Sigrida said, "It seems your dilemma has solved itself. Harald and Sigurd are heading this way."
The twins immediately shifted into action, standing straighter and adjusting their braids. Hilde pinched color into her cheeks while Hervor quickly did the same, both smoothing stray hairs into place.
From the corner of her eye, Astrid caught Sigrida casting another glance toward where Brandr sat. Their eyes met briefly across the gathering before Sigrida returned her attention to the approaching brothers, her expression carefully composed once more.
"And what has you both so animated this evening?" Sigurd asked as he approached, ale horn in hand, his earlier embarrassment seemingly forgotten. Harald followed a step behind, silent but attentive, his stance suggesting he intended to stay despite his obvious discomfort with social niceties.
Hervor stepped forward with a casual toss of her braid. "We were just discussing next season''s voyages," she replied smoothly. "Helga''s offered to take us north along the eastern shores when spring returns. We''ll be staying in Skogstrand for the summer, though, helping with the rebuilding."
Sigurd''s face broke into an easy smile at Hervor''s news of their extended stay.
"And what about you two?" Hilde asked, matching her sister''s casual tone as she stepped closer to Harald. "Any exciting plans for next season''s sailing?"
"We were just discussing that all morning, actually," Sigurd answered, relaxing further into the conversation. "Torbjorn and Magnus have left us with several options."
Harald finally found his voice, clearly more comfortable with practical matters than idle chatter. "We could sail north to keep watch over Drakefjell, south to strengthen ties with Fjell?rn, or simply stay and help rebuild Skogstrand." He glanced at his brother. "Each has its advantages."
"You should come to Fjell?rn," Hervor said, eyes lighting up. "Especially with all the excitement brewing in the south."
"Magnus has scouts tracking those raiders who''ve been harassing coastal settlements," Hilde added eagerly. "By next summer, we''ll likely know who''s behind the attacks—and there''s bound to be a proper response."
Sigurd''s expression grew interested as he turned to Astrid and Sigrida. "Wasn''t it those same raiders who attacked your trading vessel after Honningdal? The ones with the unusual markings on their shields?"
Sigrida stared down at her ale horn, her expression clouding with sudden realization. "Gods, I''d nearly forgotten about those raiders with everything that''s happened since. Brandr mentioned they might be related clans who''ve banded together—smaller tribes forced from their territories."
Astrid shivered despite the nearby fire. "Or something worse," she said, her voice dropping. "Remember how Captain Alfgeir swore they moved through mist that followed their ships? He was convinced they weren''t entirely human."
Sigurd laughed, ale sloshing in his horn. "Draugr with shield markings? That''s a new one. Next you''ll tell me they were carrying provisions and stopping to trade at ports."
"Brandr mentioned the markings matched those from Gunnar''s allied ships," Harald added, his voice steady and matter-of-fact. "Everything points to mortal raiders—men displaced by the southern clan''s expansion, most likely. The timing aligns with their movements along the coast."
"Men bleed when struck," Sigurd continued, his teasing smile returning. "And from what I heard, you made several of them bleed quite thoroughly."
The twins exchanged amused glances behind the brothers, Hervor miming ghostly movements with her fingers while Hilde struggled to contain her laughter at Astrid''s expense.
Astrid flushed, crossing her arms defensively. "There are things in this world that can''t be explained so easily." She turned to Sigrida for support. "What about Gudrun''s omen before we sailed? She told us it was time, and everything worked perfectly—the weather, the tides, everything aligned in our favor. How could she have known?"
Sigrida''s eyebrows rose, surprise evident in her expression. "Astrid, that wasn''t Gudrun''s doing," she said carefully. "Hrothgar chose the day. His weather records predicted the exact conditions needed for the decoy strategy." She lowered her voice. "Magnus spread the story about Gudrun''s omen so any spies in Fjell?rn wouldn''t discover the true reason for our departure."
Astrid''s brow furrowed, her certainty faltering. "But why would—"
"Weather prediction isn''t magic," Sigurd chuckled, shaking his head. "My father kept similar records for years. Clear skies follow certain patterns, just like storms."
Astrid''s face flushed deeper with frustration. "Fine, but what about the time old Grim''s fishing nets came up filled with silver herring three nights after his son returned from five years at sea? The whole village saw them glittering like moonlight." She raised her chin defiantly. "No one could explain that."
Hervor dissolved into giggles, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Even the usually stoic Harald couldn''t suppress a small laugh, while Sigurd openly grinned at Astrid''s earnestness.
"Silver herring? Are you certain it wasn''t just moonlight on their scales?" Sigurd teased.
Mid-laugh, Hervor''s attention shifted over Astrid''s shoulder. "Oh! Helga''s gathering her crew." She nudged her sister urgently. "We should join them now—they look ready to leave for the night."
"But we haven''t finished—" Hilde began, glancing between Harald and the Sea Queen''s gathering.
"She sails at dawn," Hervor insisted. "This is our last chance until next season."
At the mention of Helga, Sigurd''s smile shifted to a good-natured grimace. "I just remembered, I promised to help with the, ah, watch rotation for tonight." He backed away a step with an easy shrug. "Harald, weren''t you supposed to check on Ylva?"
Harald''s amusement redirected entirely to his brother''s transparent excuse. "Ylva seems comfortable where she is," he noted dryly, nodding toward the sleeping child in Yrsa''s arms.
"Still, we should..." Sigurd was already turning, an embarrassed smile on his face as he placed a hand on Harald''s shoulder and steered him away.
The twins waved quick farewells before hurrying toward Helga''s crew, leaving Astrid and Sigrida suddenly alone amidst the bustling celebration.
Their laughter at her expense still stung as they departed. Surely there were things in this world that defied simple explanation. Astrid mentally cataloged all the unexplainable events she''d heard about—the strange lights sailors reported dancing across northern waters, the forest spirits her nursemaid had sworn visited her in dreams, the persistent stories of ships guided to safety by mysterious voices during storms. If only she could recall a more convincing example that couldn''t be dismissed so easily.
Lost in her search for proof, Astrid glanced up to find Sigrida''s attention had again wandered across the square.
Following her friend''s gaze, Astrid spotted Brandr still sitting with the warriors. Though he joined in their conversation, his eyes kept finding their way back to Sigrida with the inevitability of tide returning to shore. When Astrid looked back at her friend, Brandr had turned his attention to the flames, his expression distant, lost in thoughts she could easily guess.
Seeing the quiet longing etched in her friend''s features, Astrid gently touched Sigrida''s arm. "You know," she said softly, "you could still change your mind about tomorrow. Your place could be here... with him."
"Are you sure about tomorrow?" Astrid asked softly. "About leaving with Helga?" She hesitated, then said, "Your future could be here, in Skogstrand. With us... with him."
A sad smile touched Sigrida''s lips, but her eyes were clear, certain. "I need to do this, Astrid. My path lies with Helga, at least for now."
"Please be careful out there," Astrid said, her voice dropping. "We still don''t know who those southern raiders truly are, or if they''ll return."
Sigrida reached for her friend''s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I would never let you face danger alone, whether it comes from men or spirits. If trouble finds Skogstrand again, I''ll return."
"Come," she said, tugging Astrid toward the healing tent where Erik rested. "Let''s see how he''s doing. The healers said he might be awake tonight."
As they walked through the firelit night, their hands fell to their Thor''s hammer amulets in near-perfect unison. Astrid smiled at the gesture they''d shared since purchasing the matching pendants in Skipavik''s market so many months ago.
"Remember when we bought these?" she asked, fingering the silver pendant. "Our first act as free women."
"We thought they would give us courage to face whatever lay ahead," Sigrida replied, her voice warm with memory. "And they did."
"Not through magic," Astrid added, "but because they reminded us we were brave enough to choose our own paths."
"We still are," Sigrida said softly. "Different paths now, but still our own choosing."
They passed beyond the celebration''s warmth and into the quiet darkness. Tomorrow would bring its changes, its partings, but some bonds, Astrid knew, were stronger than distance. Some friendships, once forged, could never truly break.