Four years later

Herleif buckled his sword belt around his waist and slid the sharp blade into its sheath. It was no great weapon like Sólareldur, his father's sword, but it would cut Ashfeld soldiers all the same. The shield that still hung on the wall, though, was his alone, decorated with the straight lines of the compass stave so that he might always follow a clear path in leadership and battle.

Nothing seemed clear to him now, though. Everything was muddled with thoughts of home when he should have been thinking of the journey across the sea that awaited him. Taking his shield down from the wall, he slung it over his shoulder before picking up his helmet and pack, and then, with a heavy sigh, he turned to face the bed where Audhilda sat with her back to him.

"Audhilda." Speaking her name was like trying to break apart ice, but the coldness in the room froze the cracks over in moments despite the springtime sun outside. "It is time to go."

His wife did not move from where she sat. Her golden hair was long and loose around her shoulders, and she nervously ran a pale hand through her locks. Herleif longed to touch her as well, but the space between felt like a bottomless crevice that had opened up between them in their small chamber and could not be filled or crossed. Sighing again, Herleif forced himself to put steel in his voice for the one person he thought would never deserve it.

"Audhilda, come and see me away to the docks."

"Go alone," Audhilda spat, her inflection cold and demeaning. "If you have no need of me here, then surely there is no need to parade me in front of the entire village."

"No need of you-?" Herleif repeated with a grimace. "Why do you say these things? You are my wife, and you should be there when I sail off as is proper. I am already late and you are barely even dressed. I will send in some servants to aid you but then we must go."

Audhilda's head dipped as she curled up on herself where she sat. "I said I will not go! I have no wish or desire to watch you sail away without me, leaving me here on my own again..."

"If only I could bring you along, but a raid is no place for a woman of your beauty," Herleif said, hoping a bit of flattery might win her over as it had in the past. Those days seemed long gone now, though, as Audhilda remained still as a statue before him. "What would you have me do then, hm? Stay behind while my father and the rest of his warriors go raiding without me? How would that look if I am to be Jarl someday?"

"I give no shit for what prideful ambition compels you to do, Herleif. I want what you promised me, and each time you sail away for months on end you risk us losing all of that and more!"

Herleif scowled at his wife's dark words. He did not like it when she spoke in such a way, least of all to him. Running his fingers through his beard, now full and dark upon his chin, he struggled to find the right words to ease her worrying but could not bring himself to call a truce with her just yet. "I hardly see how a Peacekeeper's dagger could be so important now. I have tried, but those hooded spies are harder to come across than you might think..."

Audhilda shot up from the bed in an instant, whirling around in a blur of blonde hair as she fixed him with spiteful eyes blazing like hoarfrost. Silent tears rolled down red cheeks, and it was clear from her pink nose and puffy eyes that they were not the first tears she had shed that morning. Her mouth was squeezed into a tight, unyielding frown, but as her bottom lip trembled beyond her control, Herleif knew that he had gone too far.

Her accusing silence hit him like a crashing wave. He adjusted the shield on his shoulder, almost wishing he could use it against her, and the thought made him resent that he should ever have to put up with such wordless ridicule within the hall that would one day be his. Setting his jaw, Herleif tossed down his pack and helmet and pointed a warning finger at his wife as he began to approach. "Now listen here... We are both expected at the dock and so we both shall be there. Put these selfish thoughts from your mind and-"

"Selfish!?" Audhilda cut in, her voice breaking as she shouted her frustrations at long last. "Who are you to call me selfish? You, who leaves me here alone and childless! Alone with no other family to call my own! How dare you say such things to my face!"

"That is not fair! My family is your family now," Herleif shouted back, "and it is not as if I wish to see you suffer this torment alone. This tears at me just as much as it does you!"

He could feel his temper rising as their argument grew more heated, a temper that had plagued them both ever since it became clear their union would not bear fruit so easily. Their desire for a family was a promise made to each other and no one else, a declaration of love that went beyond the duties of being a jarl and ruler in need of an heir. Yet, despite their many sacrifices to Frigg, each promise of new life they had known thus far had been cruelly snatched away in the womb, or they had simply been left to wait in hopeless ignorance for nothing. He adored and admired Audhilda for her willingness to try again despite the pain, but as his temper grew worse with each new argument over old wounds, Herleif feared his wife would lose hope and seek a divorce.

"The gods have robbed us both of what we want, you must see that..."

"What do you know of the gods taking what they desire on a whim!" Audhilda cried. She yanked her hand free of his grasp and took a step back, falling back onto the bed as the back of her knees knocked against it. "My family is gone! All I have left is an old seax for my father after all he did for us! Now you might go to Ashfeld and leave me with even less if you never return!"

Herleif glanced at the small box that held Ander's seax within and wondered what advice the old Raider might give if he could see the both of them now. The thought only filled him with shame, so he fell to his knees before his wife, grabbing for her hands even as she struggled to resist him. "That will not happen, Audhilda. I promise."

"Your promises mean nothing! You cannot even keep true to the ones that matter!"

A part of his heart died at those hateful words, and with it went the shield holding back his growing wrath. Throwing down her small hands, he stood and glared down at his wife like a jǫtunn come to lay waste to the world. Audhilda stared back, but for the tears filling her eyes, he saw her anger waver and become the fear that nothing in their lives would turn out as they hoped, not with children and perhaps not with each other.

No longer did Herleif have it within him to pull her off the bed and crush her in his embrace until such thoughts were dispelled as pure foolishness. All he felt was bitter resentment boiling within him like a rage he could barely control. He wanted to hurt her like she had hurt him, and he hated himself for it. The only choice left to him was to leave, or so he told himself. Lowering his eyes, he walked back around the bed to his helmet and pack and picked them up without another word until he reached the door and pulled it open to leave his wife alone just as she had feared.

"If I should not return," he said slowly, hoping that the words cut at her as sharply as a sword, "may you always remember these last words said between us. I hope they are a comfort to you, should you ever decide to think fondly of me again..."

Audhilda stared back at him, stricken with grief. He waited just a moment longer, but then she turned away from him and threw herself against the pillows of their bed. Herleif shut the door behind him and did not look back.

A few servants greeted and wished him safe travels as he passed through the hall, but he said nothing in return. The world around him didn't seem to exist as he remembered it, not the familiar confines of his family's home and not the village he had grown up in as he stepped outside. The streets of Brosmegard were busy with warriors and their families making their way to the docks, but to Herleif, they might as well have been faceless spirits on the road to Hel. Any attempts to gain his attention were ignored, and as he went in a daze towards his father's ship, all he could think about was Audhilda alone and crying without him back in their room.

He should have gone back to her. A voice inside his head kept telling him that he was a fool for not going back. It reminded him of the virtues of a Warlord, a leader of his people. Duty, honor, and strength were all needed if he hoped to venture forth raiding and return again. They should have been the foundation of his marriage and life at home as well, but he continued walking like a coward toward the ships. There was still too much anger festering in his heart to make himself fix what had been broken.

Soon, he made it to the crowded docks. Walking past the warriors and thralls loading the hulls with everything needed to travel the whale-road, Herleif climbed aboard the Salt Boar and headed for his rowing bench at the helm to store his pack. The ship was already full of its crew making last-minute preparations before the voyage, but just like his walk through the village, he kept his head down and ignored them. That only made things worse when he bumped into Ragna, of all people, as she loaded cargo with her brother Ragnar.

"Watch where you're going, Herleif!" Ragna snarled over her shoulder.

While he had always known that younger woman had a temper to rival his own, Herleif was in no mood to trade insults and make excuses. He rounded on Ragna with a wrathful scowl, stepping in close as he bared his teeth in a gesture the newly anointed Berserker would surely understand. "This is your first voyage on my father's ship," he growled, "so learn your place quickly, young pup, before I teach it to you."

Ragna opened her mouth to hiss out some vicious insult or another, but before she could, Ragnar threw an arm around his sister to pull her back and put his smiling face between the two of them. "No need for any lessons today, Herleif. All is well..." Ragnar laughed innocently before glaring side-eyed at his twin. "Right, sister?"

Herleif could tell from Ragna's scowl that she didn't want to let things go, but he would not let his threat remain idle if she pressed the issue. It seemed that his seniority was enough to shut the young Berserker up, though, and for once, Herleif was content to let his position as the jarl's son speak for him. Turning his back on the twins, he felt their eyes bore holes into his back as he walked up the length of the great drakkar. Once again, he tried to shut out the world and brood on his own misgivings, but as he neared his bench, he was met with Gunnar's arrogant smile waiting to greet him. His brother lounged on the bench without a care while others toiled around him, bare-chested and overly proud-looking with his hair loose about his shoulders and a shiny new helmet sitting on the deck beside him. A great axe leaned against the nearby ship railing; the blade honed to a lethal edge without a nick or scratch on the metal. Everything about him looked so new, untested, and ready to rush headlong into danger like a fool. The sight of him did nothing to improve Herleif's dour mood.

"Move," Herleif grunted, swinging his pack to knock his brother's feet off the bench.

Gunnar laughed as he stood, sweeping up his helmet and spinning it around on his fist. "Ha! Feeling the battle frenzy already building up inside you, huh? I like it, brother. We'll leave the Ashfeld widows weeping after we sail away with their treasure."

Herleif opened the bench and threw his pack and helmet inside, not bothering to organize any essentials for the journey as he usually did before slamming the lid closed. "Shut up. Save your strength for rowing out to sea instead of blowing hot air."

"Oh, come now, Herleif. Finally we shall raid together, just as we always spoke of! Now is not the time for one of your troll-shit moods to darken our voyage. With your sword and shield and my axe, we will leave a trail of blood behind us that will surely earn us a place in the Allfather's hall!"

"You are too young to speak of things, Bear Cub," Herleif grumbled. Pushing past Gunnar, he slipped his shield off his shoulder and fixed it to the side of the Salt Boar. "If you wish to see my mood improved, then keep your mouth shut. It is a long voyage to Ashfeld and I have no interest in listening to you speak of battles as if you have already lived through them."

"It's just Bear now, Herleif. I already told you," Gunnar scowled.

Now it was Herleif's turn to laugh, although there was nothing happy or joyful to the sound. "A name unearned is a name not worth speaking. Save your boasting for after the raid, brother. Keep talking and I will throw you overboard where that stone you call a head can take you down to Ran's cold embrace before we ever see Ashfeld on the horizon."

"Better than having no name at all to speak of," Gunnar said. "You are in a foul mood today... Where is Audhilda? She should have kept you in your bed longer this morning rather than let you go out in this state. Surely there is no point in having a wife if she can provide neither children or peace of mind before a long voyage..."

Herleif saw red before he could blink. His balled-up fist connected with Gunnar's jaw with a sharp crack, sending his brother reeling back across the ship's deck. Baring his teeth, Herleif growled as he gave chase, grabbing the leather straps across Gunnar's chest to pull him back for another hit. Blood flew from Gunnar's lips, but he had enough sense about him to block the next punch and begin fighting back. They brawled like desperate wolves, scrapping without sense or honor, causing a ruckus among the ship's crew as warriors shot up from their benches to try and pull them apart.

"Enough!" boomed a great voice over the growing clamor. Jarl Bjǫrn made his way through the press of warriors with eyes blazing like fire to find his sons fighting like squabbling pups on his ship. Grabbing them each by the back of the neck, he pulled Herleif and Gunnar apart with practiced ease, bringing the fight to an abrupt halt. "What is the meaning of this!? Speak, you insufferable brats!"

"He started it!" Gunnar exclaimed, spitting blood. "He's a mad fuck! Touch starved and brooding like an old crone!"

Bjǫrn pushed his youngest son away to be held back by his warriors. "Away with you, boy! Go and get yourself cleaned up. I will not have you bleeding all over my ship before we even set sail!"

Gunnar gave Herleif one last glare before he allowed himself to be led away by some sympathetic warriors to wash the blood clean from his mouth, but Herleif knew that nothing would change once he returned. "Give me another partner for the bench, father," he spat. "I refuse to row next to that arrogant swine."

The old jarl's eyes flashed wide with anger once again as he rounded on Herleif. Bjǫrn grabbed his eldest son's collar in one great fist and pushed him back against the ship's railing, looming over Herleif like a god of the Æsir. "Do not presume to give me orders on my own ship," he growled. "It should be you I leave behind after all that. Gunnar has pride enough to fill a sea chest to bursting, but I expect better of you."

"Well, falling short of expectations is a burden I could fill my own chest with at this point..."

Bjǫrn's gaze softened just a touch, and then he sighed and let go of Herleif's collar to pat his chest instead. "What happened?"

Herleif's gaze dropped as he frowned, anger turning to self-loathing as he was forced to heed his father's words. "Audhilda and I fought again. The same old tale."

"I see." Glancing over his shoulder, Bjǫrn lowered his voice to make their conversation as private as possible upon the crowded ship. "It was not easy for your mother and me at first either, you know..." Herleif nodded. It was something that had been discussed before as a comfort, but now it only offered bitter emptiness instead of hope. Sensing that his words did not have the desired effect, Bjǫrn gave a kind smile and tried again. "You young people try to live too fast. Children will come, if the dísir are kind. Just give it time."

"And what if they never do?" Herleif said quickly. "Four years and we have not been able to produce an heir... What am I to do when I become jarl?"

"You are trying to live too fast. Do I look dead to you, boy?" Bjǫrn challenged. The wrinkles on his face had grown deeper, and there were dark liver spots dotting his bald head. His beard had gone from gray to snow-white, but the twinkle in his eyes was as sharp and vibrant as ever. "There is more to life than just your duty to Brosmegard, Herleif. Think about what you have now, and what you wish to have still when we return from our voyage. Is it Audhilda who brightens your life with love, or do you only care for what she might give you?"

Herleif felt a pang of guilt shoot through him. "No, it has never been about that. I love her. I have always loved her, it is just..." His hands balled into fists at his sides, and he huffed in agitation, somehow feeling that saying the words was admitting defeat. "...this is something we both want. I fear if nothing changes, she will leave me and look for another who can see the deed done."

Bjǫrn gave a snort of amusement that sent the lines around his eyes to wrinkling. "You been practicing headbutts without your helmet? Daft boy, that girl loves you more than a dwarf loves gold. Listen to your old father now... The sooner your stop worrying about you want, the sooner you can start focusing on what is important, and the rest will fall into place after that." His smile widened in his white beard, and Herleif couldn't help but give a small grin in return as he nodded. "Now, tell me you did not leave that poor girl alone in the hall before you started trouble here? What would Ander think of you treating his only daughter like that, hm?"

Herleif grimaced, knowing he had mistakes to make up for, but worried it was too late to try. "He told me once," he began with a dry throat before starting again. "He told me a good man always has something to live for."

"He was a smart man. A true drengr that we all miss. And do you feel like a good man now, my son?" Herleif pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head truthfully. "Is this how you want to leave things?"

"Is there time to fix it?" Herleif asked.

"I am jarl. For you, I will make time," Bjǫrn winked. "So long as you do not make a habit of it. Now go on... No reason to keep her waiting." Herleif didn't need to be told twice. Patting his father on the arm, he was off in a flash, moving around the benches and making for the dock. "And be kind to your brother! Your mother will never let me hear the end of it if you two bash each other's skulls in before we ever reach Ashfeld!" Bjǫrn called after him.

"Sorry, father!"

Herleif ran as fast as he could from the docks. A few people shouted as he rushed past them, but he ignored their cries just as before. His mind was filled with the last moment he had set eyes on his wife, remembering her falling to the pillow like a wounded enemy. The thought filled him with regret, but he was determined to fix that now, even if it meant missing the voyage south. Gold and glory could wait for another raid; he had his own treasure to look after at home.

Spotting Gunnar still washing himself clean at a water barrel, Herleif couldn't resist dunking his brother's head in the cold water as he passed by, laughing loudly as he glanced back to see Gunnar sputtering beneath a shroud of wet hair. "You ass!"

"Bastard!" Gunnar roared after him in a spray of mist.

Herleif didn't bother to call back, but he did smile for the first time that morning. It felt like the first time in ages. There was still much work to be done and forgiveness to be earned, but now he had hope. The last words between them would not linger over their heads like a dark seiðr curse. He had to see Audhilda again one last time before the ships left. He had to hold her in his arms and declare his love to her so there would never be any doubt that their union was meant to be ever again.

So determined was he at his task that Herleif scarcely slowed down as he rounded a building and nearly ran headlong into a woman heading the other way. He gave a startled cry as he stood before her, a quick apology on the tip of his tongue before slipping past to continue on when he stopped and looked again to find his wife staring back at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Audhilda!"

Audhilda looked just as surprised to find him there in the midst of the village rather than at the docks. Her loose hair was wild about her shoulders rather than wrapped up as was customary for a married woman, and she wore a simple dress hastily slipped on over her shift without a belt or even her usual jewelry to adorn her. They panted together, each catching their breath before overcoming their shock, but it was Audhilda who recovered her wits first and lunged at Herleif to throw her arms around his shoulders.

"Forgive me!" she cried, burying her face against the crook of his neck. He caught her up in his arms to hold her as she slumped against him. Dozens of eyes settled on them from all around as her crying carried over the crowd, but Herleif could not bring himself to care as he gently lowered Audhilda onto her knees. "Please forgive me, husband!" she continued to cry against his neck. "I should not have said such horrible things to you!"

Herleif did not know if he wanted to weep for joy or sadness as he squeezed her in their shared embrace, but he told himself not to care for the tears he shed just to hear her wavering voice again, no matter how unmanly they were. "No, no, shhh... It is I who must beg for forgiveness," he began. Burying his face in her hair, he squeezed her again before leaning back so that they might look at each other. "You are right to care. I was wrong to leave you behind as I did. "

Audhilda's face broke as she pushed her small hands into his and squeezed. "I... I understand. No warrior wishes to stay behind while glory awaits. I only wish such things would not take you away from me for so long!"

Herleif wished it, too, but he could not ignore the duty he held to his people. Viking tradition ran deep, lasting through the centuries after the Cataclysm. It was in his blood, his life destined for Valhǫll, just as he was meant to hold such a beautiful and fierce bride in his arms. It was no easy thing to decide between the two, but he vowed to himself then that he would never question what their love was worth again. He would be worthy of Audhilda's love, or he would have gladly suffer a coward's fate if he ever fell short of the mark.

"I have time now..." he said at last. He knew it was not what she wanted to hear, but it was a start for what he could offer. "I swear to you, on the lives of the children we will someday have, when I go, I am fighting to return to you. You are my reason for returning, nothing else. You are everything to me, Audhilda."

Audhilda looked at him with tear-filled eyes, then rested her head against his chest. "But still, you will tempt fate and leave me?" she asked mournfully.

"How will I ever get you a Peacekeeper's dagger if I do not go and get it myself?" he grinned. "I would ask my brother, but I do not think he likes me very much right now after I struck him for speaking ill of you."

Audhilda's fine brows rose upon her pink and splotchy face, but she soon offered a trembling smile and a laugh to match his own, and the sound of it was music to Herleif's ears. "Will you still bring me home that dagger one day?"

"One day," Herleif assured. "All I want is to see you happy. That is what I wish."

"Then promise me again to always return to me until you do? Promise me as many times as you must, until we have everything fate will give us until its weave is at an end."

No man could truly know the full extent of his fate and where it would lead him, but for the hope brimming in Audhilda's eyes, he wanted to believe her words might be true. Her hands were so small and soft compared to his own that he was afraid of hurting them as he squeezed, but she clung to him tighter than ever as she waited for his answer.

"I promise," he said, feeling new tears dampen his eyes as he smiled. "Always this will be my oath to you, my love." Grabbing her up in his arms, he pulled her close and hugged her as if he were afraid she might blow away on the wind.

She found his lips with a kiss despite kneeling in the middle of the road. Herleif sniffed and leaned into the palm of her hand pressed to his cheek, and all thoughts of battle and glory left him as he looked into her eyes and felt more at home than ever before in her life.

"Then I will be here waiting for you, dear husband," she whispered back. "That is my oath to you. Whatever the Norns have carved, you may hold faith in us. Always." They stayed there for another long moment, letting the world around them fall away so that only they remained. Audhilda brushed her nose against his as she cupped his face, then opened her blue eyes as a mischievous smile spread across her lips. "How much time did you say you had?"

Herleif frowned. "I do not care. However long to make sure you are alright. I will not leave you shedding bitter tears after me again."

"You are sweet," Audhilda sighed, "but I know you are needed with your warriors. I wish to know if we have enough time that I may send you off properly now that you are here in my arms again, dear husband..."

His brows creased as he looked at her, and as Audhilda's rose above her bright eyes, he suddenly caught her meaning. Without another word, he scooped her up into her arms and stood, tossing her over the shoulder and making straight for the hall. Audhilda shrieked as she was lifted and called Herleif's name before smacking him on the back for his rudeness, but she laughed all the while as he carried her through the village and not caring a bit for who might see.