Pine Not For Valkyries
All was calm and quiet in the longhouse atop the hill. The long tables of the great hall were empty save for the remains of the previous night's meal. Only one figure gave any life to the place, in the room stacked with letters, maps and missives behind the vacant throne. Randvi stood over the myriad of paper before her, hands planted on the table top far apart as she scowled down at her work.
A breeze whistled through the leaky roof above, drawing Randvi's attention away from the already too familiar map. She sighed, lips thin in concern. Her role was troublesome enough already in Sigurd's absence. Ravensthorpe however seemed determined to provide fresh nuisances for her to deal with every new dawn. If it wasn't a problem with Gunnar's forge, there was an issue with Tekla's brew, if there wasn't an issue with Tekla's brew, it was Osbert's demands to retrieve some broken pot or something equally useless, and so on and so forth. She could do well without any more distractions.
Randvi almost chuckled at her plight, resorting to a weary sigh instead. Perhaps she could do with something to take her mind off of every little problem the town had. Certain distractions were less worrisome than others, and with some she was more than happy to let take her attentions away.
Randvi found herself smiling as wild, blonde hair and fierce blue eyes entered her mind, a cocky smirk and noble features.
Randvi scolded herself silently for the traitorous thought. She shouldn't be having such feelings, let alone thoughts. She curled her fingers into a fist and slammed it into the wooden table top. The dull bang resonated throughout the longhouse and Randvi had to fight to keep herself from looking to see if anyone had heard. She embraced the throbbing pain that rang through her knuckles, letting it serve as something of a penance for her crime.
Doing her best to shake off such thoughts, Randvi brushed a thick lock of red hair out from her face as she leaned back in over the map and letters splayed out before her. Their position in England had improved considerably since they'd first arrived, thanks in no small part to Eivor, of course. The Shield-maiden had stopped at nothing to win alliances and keep their enemies at bay. Randvi idly wondered where they would all be if not for Eivor's work. Sigurd was undoubtedly their leader, but Eivor was their champion. Randvi smiled at the mere thought of Eivor's courageous deeds and her victories in battle, proving her physical prowess for all to see and wonder in awe.
Another loud bang rang throughout the hall.
Randvi sighed, gently rubbing her red knuckles with a thumb. She had to stop this. She was married for Thor's sake. What would her parents think of her?
Sigurd was a good man, a strong, decent man. Even if he was absent from their bed, he didn't deserve a wife whose mind strayed so easily. It didn't help that Eivor had endeavoured to step up in her brother's absence, making herself ready to help Randvi whenever she could, though even she was gone from Ravensthorpe almost as much as Sigurd was.
The sound of cheering, jeering and the clap of metal weapons tugged suddenly on Randvi's ear. She rolled her eyes, wondering if the Gods were conspiring against her and her duties.
Randvi spared one last glance to the letters on the table with disdain before pacing out of the longhouse towards the noise, deciding that sometimes a distraction was necessary.
xxx
"Move your feet, Ceolbert!" Eivor barked, swiping at the Mercian with a heavy swipe of her blade.
The nobleman half grunted, half yelped as he just managed to deflect the blow with his own sword. Sparks flew as Eivor's great sword bit into steel and flew mere inches from Ceolbert's grimacing face.
The Viking pressed the assault, throwing strike after strike at the young nobleman.
"That's it, boy!" Dag jeered from his seat on a nearby barrel. "Run and cower from the Wolf-Kissed! Don't worry, her bark's worse than her bite!"
Ceolbert half turned to throw a scowl Dag's way, but the tip of the great sword suddenly thrust at his face forced him to deflect that instead.
"Eyes on your enemy, Ceolbert!" Eivor growled. "You're fighting me, not him!"
"Trying!" Ceolbert groaned through gritted teeth as he struggled to cope under the Viking's battering.
The Mercian was pushed back and back, well beyond the edges of the makeshift arena they'd established. Not even gravity was on his side. Eivor kept forcing him back down the hill towards the dock. Ceolbert heard Petra yelp in surprise from behind before he was chased further down towards the river, the hunter watched the duellers pass by with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Eivor didn't let up for even a moment, sticking to her prey like a starving wolf.
Ceolbert's stumbling foot caught something in the road. He staggered, trying desperately to keep to his feet. Eivor promptly seized the opportunity and planted a foot in his chest. Unbalanced, Ceolbert fell back with a thud into the dirt. At once, the Viking was upon him, great sword held out above the Mercian, ready to deliver the final blow. Ceolbert breathed heavily, grimacing nervously at the tip of the heavy blade poised mere inches in front of his face.
Eivor held the young nobleman's gaze for a long heavy moment. Then, the blade was swiftly lifted to sling over the Viking's shoulder. Eivor let a smirk trickle out onto her face and leaned over to offer a hand.
Ceolbert let out a breath he'd been holding onto as though it were his last and took the hand gratefully. "My, I'd hate to be fighting against you in a real battle, Eivor." He said as he was brought to his feet.
Eivor clapped him on the back. "And I hope that will never happen, but if it does, you need to know how to defend yourself."
Colbert let out a faint chuckle in reply. He doubted there was any training in the whole world that could help him defend himself against the Viking.
"Go on, take a break, Ceolbert." Eivor pushed the Mercian away with a smirk. "You're getting better."
"Well, that's something at least." The Mercian uttered dryly as he walked off, a slight limp to his gait.
Eivor kept her chuckle silent for his pride's sake. She strode back up the hill towards the longhouse. Before she made it halfway, she found an all too familiar figure clad in blue with thick, red hair tied in a side braid. The figure had her arms folded with a look on her face that was equal parts appraising and amused. How often had Eivor seen that exact face in her dreams?
Eivor smiled. "Randvi, what do you make of our Mercian?"
The redhead turned to look at Ceolbert as he walked away in the distance. "He still has plenty to learn, not all of it with a blade in hand, but he's coming along well. He's a fine young man. With a bit of luck and guidance, he'll make a fine king someday."
"Have you a soft spot for the boy?" Eivor smirked.
"I merely see the potential in him. There are plenty of men in these lands who boast of being king when they haven't done anything to deserve it. It is refreshing to see a future king who is eager to earn that right." Randvi returned her gaze to the Shield-maiden with a smirk of her own. Gods above, Eivor loved how that looked on her face. "Why do you ask? Do you wish for me to laud your future achievements instead?"
"That wasn't what I was fishing for, but I certainly wouldn't complain."
Randvi chuckled, light and soft. "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Eivor. I'll leave the fate of your future deeds to the Gods, though if I'm any judge, they still have plenty in store for you."
Eivor couldn't help but let a satisfied grin slip onto her face. "I like the sound of that. Should I commission you to write my saga? I promise to pay well."
"Worry about living long enough to see it written first, Wolf-Kissed." Randvi warned with a pointed look at Eivor's scarred neck.
"Oh? Do you doubt me?"
"No. I'm only concerned that confidence of yours will get the better of you one day."
Eivor couldn't help but smile a little silly at that. "Well, I'm glad you are concerned for me, at the least."
Randvi merely smiled in return, cheeks slightly warmed to apple red in the sunlight. She reached up to brush a strand of red hair away from her face when Eivor spotted something that drew her concern.
"What is this?" Eivor murmured, plucking Randvi's hand from her face to get a better look at red, irritated knuckles. "Have the letters been resisting again?" She teased.
"It's nothing." Randvi sighed, pulling her hand free again. "I let frustration get the better of me, that's all."
"Well, from the looks of this, I'd say you put up a decent fight in return. What happened?"
Randvi lips twitched slightly before seemingly shaking it off. "I was just- just getting irritated, and I let my anger out … on the table."
"Ouch." Eivor chuckled, though her eyes weren't teasing, not wholly at least.
"A moment of weakness, it won't happen again."
"Next time it frustrates you again, use an axe. Tables are terrified of axes."
"I'll remember that little gem of wisdom." Randvi smiled but rolled her eyes at Eivor's foolishness.
Eivor returned her gaze to Randvi's hand. She didn't like how angry it looked one bit. She found it uncomfortable seeing the redhead injured, even a minor one such as this. "Come on. Let's take a proper look at that."
"Eivor, there really is no need." Randvi protested, but Eivor already had her hand around the redhead's wrist.
"There is a need, now stop being silly and come with me."
Randvi sighed behind her as she was dragged along, though a silly smile sprouted on her lips. "You're impossible, Eivor."
xxx
Randvi let herself be pulled along in Eivor's wake, back up into the longhouse, until they reached Eivor's room. It was a spacious chamber, fit to rival the one she was supposed to share with Sigurd. The mostly bare tables and walls stood testament to Eivor's frequent absence from Ravensthorpe, rather than a lack of achievement. The room was cast in a false dusk by the steady flicker of torchlight. The only real creature comforts on show were the heavy furs and sheets that were piled on the Shield-maiden's bed.
Randvi idly wondered if Eivor too found hers to be lonely.
"Here." Eivor murmured, almost too gentle for her gravel tinged voice. "It's alright, take a seat."
Randvi dutifully sat on the edge of Eivor's comfortable bed, feeling more and more traitorous the longer she lingered. Her gaze darted aside to the door and the hall beyond, somehow fearful that Sigurd would walk in any moment. It would almost be perfect. Sigurd was never around when needed most, so naturally he would choose to turn up now of all times.
"Is something wrong?" Eivor put a strong hand on Randvi's shoulder with a concerned look in her eyes.
"No, no." Randvi battered away the concern quickly. "Just- Just thinking about all the work I still have to do. It's good of you to be concerned, Eivor, but I really should be getting back-" Randvi was promptly stopped from getting to her feet by that strong, sturdy hand of Eivor's.
"Not so fast, I'm not letting you go free till we have a good look at that hand." Eivor smirked before turning to the table and retrieving a bowl of water and a cloth.
"Really, you don't need to worry." Randvi scowled at being treated like an invalid or even a child. "We both have more important things to be doing."
The Shield-maiden chuckled before kneeling down before Randvi on one knee. "Let me be the judge of that. Besides, it makes a nice change to be the one patching you up for once."
Randvi let out a soft chuckle of her own. She'd almost lost count of the amount of times she'd patched Eivor up over the years. Whether it was a sword wound earned in battle, a shredded graze earned from a fall, or a bloodied lip from a brawl, she'd always made time to tend to Eivor's injuries. She'd gotten to know Eivor well over all those scattered moments. They were some of her fondest memories. Eivor would often boast of the deeds that earned her those wounds while Randvi would smile and roll her eyes in equal measure. She thought of the scars on Eivor's body that likely only she knew about. Randvi had to fight the urge to physically shake her head free of such thoughts.
Then, Eivor reached for Randvi's hand. Almost instinctively, Randvi jerked it away at the Shield-maiden's touch.
Randvi silently cursed.
The playful glint in Eivor's gaze fell away to something serious, something concerned, something hurt. It almost hurt Randvi herself to see that look in her eyes. "What's wrong, Randvi? Why won't you let me help you?"
"It's really nothing. It doesn't need to be looked at. I'm sure you have more important things to do than worry about me. I'm not important." Randvi said quickly.
Eivor leaned back a little and regarded the redhead with slightly narrowed eyes. Randvi had to fight the urge to swallow thickly under that penetrating gaze. She was sure those icy blue pools could see right through her and her thin excuses.
"You do yourself far too little credit. You're important to this settlement, to its people, more than you know. Ravensthorpe would have surely fallen into the river by now, if you weren't here to hold it back from the water." Then, Eivor smiled, a light that warmed Randvi's heart. "You're important to me, as well you know. I know that when I return from my travels, I'll find you here, and everything will be alright. It makes it easier, you know, knowing that everyone here is in safe hands. So let me take care of those hands for once. Besides, Sigurd would kill me if I let anything happen to you …" The light in Eivor's eyes seemed to dim a little, she averted her gaze from Randvi's almost bashfully, dropping her head to look towards the floor.
"Eivor?" Randvi asked quietly.
Eivor cleared her throat suddenly, the lifted her gaze back up with a smile, a smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. She took advantage of Randvi's hesitancy to take her injured hand once more.
"Let me get you cleaned up, then I'll let you get back to your letters, oh Map-maiden of Ravensthorpe." That teasing smirk was back in full force as she began to gently swab red knuckles with the damp cloth.
Randvi couldn't help but sigh at that, her irritation dampened by the Shield-maiden's soothing touch. "You make me sound so very dull."
"I'm only teasing." Eivor smiled, then that lovely expression fell away to concern. "Are you unhappy here?"
A pause.
"I'm too busy to think on whether or not I'm happy. I do think I prefer it here. We meet so many strange and varied people here. I think the weather here suits me as well. It's warmer, well, some of the time."
"That's not really an answer, Randvi." Eivor's eyes were on Randvi's hand as she worked, but Randvi felt her heartbeat elevate as she sensed the Shield-maiden's scrutiny on her very being.
"What do you want me to say, Eivor? It's been challenging, building a new life here. We've made plenty of mistakes, I'm certain. There are things I would change if I could, but-" Randvi sighed.
"But what?" Eivor looked to Randvi expectantly.
Randvi bit her lip slightly before answering. "But what's the point in thinking about what ifs? We have to deal with what we have. That has to be good enough."
"Not if you're not happy with it." Eivor switched her fierce gaze to Randvi's fully now, a fire in those icy eyes that Randvi could not look away from. "We came here for a better life, for all of us. That includes you, Randvi. If you want things to be different, to be better, you should say. Maybe we can change things."
Randvi swallowed thickly, if only Eivor knew what she was saying. "I am the Chief's wife. I don't have the luxury of worrying about my own happiness."
"You know that's not right. You're not just some title you've earned through marriage." Eivor moved a hand to caress Randvi's arm gently, almost lovingly. "You're your own person, strong and beautiful as you are."
Randvi knew she should pull away from Eivor's touch but she couldn't bring herself to do it. The traitorous part of her mind told her to accept it, to lean into it.
"What do you want from me, Eivor?" Randvi demanded quietly.
"I want you to talk to me – you used to do that, you know – and I want you to be happy." Eivor said simply, a slight smile to her face that was beautiful, innocent, endearing and naïve all at once. "Being the Chief's wife doesn't exempt you from either. If anyone deserves happiness, it's you."
"Eivor, stop." Randvi put a hand to Eivor's shoulder, almost pushing her away but so very reluctant to do so.
Eivor's expression was confused and even a little hurt.
"What is this?" Randvi's gaze fell to Eivor's hand on her arm, but she knew the Shield-maiden heard her true meaning.
Eivor didn't answer straight away. She reached up from Randvi's arm to brush a lock of red hair away from her face. In the same movement, she gently pulled Randvi's face to gaze back into those icy blue eyes. There, Randvi found her answer in amongst the cascade of emotions running through the Shield-maiden.
"Randvi …" Eivor breathed, lips parted, hesitant. Her gaze flitted between Randvi's gaze and lips rapidly.
Randvi belatedly realised her eyes and lips were mirroring the Shield-maiden's.
"Are you … ?" Randvi began, uncertain whether she understood or if this was even real. Were the Gods playing some cruel trick on her?
Eivor licked her lips. Then she leaned in, slowly pushing herself up from her kneeling position to deliver a soft kiss against Randvi's mouth. Randvi didn't move a muscle, in her own lips or anywhere else. She was frozen in place. Everything she knew she wanted so tantalisingly close, but it was everything she knew she shouldn't.
After a moment of eternity, Eivor pulled back. Her face a cacophony of emotions: shock at the act, a desperate hope, regret of hurt, desire for more, love.
"We can't." Randvi whispered, swallowing thickly, her mouth dry and stale. "… Sigurd-"
"I know. I know." Eivor sighed. Randvi could see the battle raging within her. "I just- I can't- I love you, Randvi."
"Don't." Randvi shut her eyes sharply to keep her welling tears at bay. "Please, don't do this to me."
"Then tell me you don't feel it too." Eivor almost pleaded, desperate. "Tell me this disgusts you, and I'll never come to you again with this. I'll leave and never have to hurt you. You'll never see me again."
Never see you again?
"I … I can't." Randvi almost cried. "How could you ask me to do that?"
Eivor somehow smiled, she raised a hand again to caress Randvi's face. This time, she did not flee. Randvi closed her eyes and leaned into the contact, treasuring each forbidden moment.
"I … I think I love you too." Randvi confessed quietly, her eyes scrunched up in shae at her betrayal.
"Then let me love you." Eivor begged with yearning.
"I can't." Randvi opened her eyes, hating the pain she saw inflicted on Eivor's beautiful face. "You know we can't."
"He doesn't deserve you." Eivor whispered urgently, her eyes desperate. "He's never where he should be: Here, with you."
Randvi couldn't help but bark out an incredulous chuckle, shaky with emotion. "And you are? When was the last time you stayed put for longer than a week? Then you're off, gone for months. You're just as bad as he is."
"I have to! To make this land safe, for all of us, for you!"
"And Sigurd? Will you tell me next that he's abandoned us?" Randvi demanded, though her emotions warred within her. Her head was spinning.
"Sigurd, he …" Eivor's face darkened. "He walks his own path. I don't understand it, but he cares more for his own glory than he does for his people. You know he doesn't care for you, not truly. I know you don't care for him."
Randvi shook her head sadly. "I'm still his wife, Eivor. Would you have me be an oath breaker?"
"I know you are. I wouldn't, I- I-" Eivor's face was anguished. Broken, she lowered her head to rest on Randvi's lap.
Randvi had to fight like a mother bear to prevent herself from cradling the Shield-maiden. She wanted nothing more than to stroke that wild mane of blonde and tell Eivor that everything would be alright.
Then she felt soft rumbling as Eivor chuckled into her legs. "The Gods love to play their tricks. We'd never have even met if not for your damned marriage … I'm so sorry, Randvi."
"Eivor …" Randvi began softly, but what could she possibly say?
The Shield-maiden picked her head up. She had not shed any tears and wore a small smile, but Randvi hurt deep inside to see the pain in Eivor's eyes.
"I will always be here for you, whatever you need, no matter how small. Call for me, and I will come." Eivor pledged.
"I know you will." Randvi somehow managed a smile of her own, though she knew it was weak. She reached up to touch Eivor's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Eivor. If things were different, I-" She stopped herself. Why drag either of them through the hurt of thoughts that could never be?
Eivor placed a hand over Randvi's on her cheek. The blonde turned her head and pressed a long, adoring kiss to the redhead's palm. A thousand regrets, a thousand desires, and a single promise all at once.
Then, in an instant, Eivor pulled back and stood. In a moment more she was striding out the door, leaving Randvi all alone in the quiet room, the slight whistle of the wind in the rafters above her only companion.
Only then did a tear fall free from Randvi's eyes.