Author's Note:

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Eivor the Wolf-kissed, Jarl of Ravensthorpe, has lived through tragedy after tragedy. The loss of her family, her brother's mysterious disappearance and finding of him one arm lighter, the betraying of Basim who sought revenge on her for crimes she herself did not commit and many more that she dare not try to count.

However, after her visit to Ireland, Eivor has learned that the deaths of those she loves will not be what breaks her. A fiery, red-headed Irish woman has stolen her heart and vanished in one fell swoop, forcing Eivor to leave Ireland empty handed and lost.

Back home, Eivor learns the cost of her infidelity and loses more than what she bargained for, but the return of her old friend Azar to discuss trade routes to Ireland reignites visions and songs of her lost love and brings Eivor's lost spirit back to life.

Faced with the memories Azar brought with her, Eivor must face the consequences of her choices in Ireland and choose whether to tell Randvi what is driving her to madness, or give in and let it take her.

Love & Loss follows female Eivor after all major story developments, before the final goodbye sequence, and the completion of all main storylines in Ireland. Reading on will provide major story spoilers.

Eivor's hand shielded her eyes from the midday sun as she stood at the bow of her longship. It was a warm, mid-summer day; the waters were calm, and the fishing looked to be going well based on how many she saw hung on the drying lines. A horn, deep and raspy, sounded in the distance, signalling a small group to meet Eivor and her crew as they pulled up to the docks of Ravensthorpe. They had been gone for a few months as she explored Ireland and were all ready to return home to their friends, family, and familiar lands; Eivor especially.
Ropes were tossed as easily as the greetings that were exchanged as they docked. Eivor's feet were itching to feel the ground of her homeland again; to feel something familiar after being away for so long, but her heart was not so sure. She had suffered a great loss while away; seeing Bárid again brought immense joy to her, but his swift loss took its toll. Since his leaving of Norway, Eivor had lost track of him. His letter of invitation was a welcomed surprise, and she made quick preparations to visit her long-lost cousin in Dublin. She was glad she could send him off to Valhalla, but it was not the goodbye she had hoped for; many goodbyes went sour while she was there.
She cleared the few feet of open water with ease. The thud of her boots on the solid wood was ignored, but her powerful presence was not as she aided in tying off her ship and took hold of a chest of riches that was a foot short of being tossed overboard.

"I think I'm going to stay put for a while. I don't think my body can take much more of this." She whispered to herself as she cracked her back, releasing some of the tension in her spine that the heavy chest revealed. Much of her crew also took a moment to stretch after they stepped onto the docks and breathed in the familiar scent of home. They were tired; the summer breeze blew them in most of the way, but in the smaller sections of the river, they had to row to keep course.

The dock buzzed as families began to find and greet one another. Congratulations filled the air of a successful trip once more. Eivor took in the smiling faces and caught wind of the stories of their travels, good and bad, eagerly being told as they unloaded the ship. News spread swiftly through the crowd of Bàrid's death and those who passed by gave their condolences and spoke on his safe trip to Valhalla. She had had time to process his loss through the long and tiring trip back, but it was hard to not get choked up as the memory was brought once again to the front of her mind.
Couples hugged and children ran to greet their mothers and fathers that had taken the long trip with her. It warmed her heart to watch; it meant that though her time here had not been easy, her hard work had paid off. Families were growing and that meant Ravensthorpe was thriving. Behind her smile, however, she longed for the same affections; Bàrid was not the only loss in Ireland that weighed on her.
The creaking and pounding of footsteps and cargo did nothing to silence Randvi's approach. Her steps were soft yet confident and calculated; Eivor knew her walk like the back of her hand and clocked the familiar gate as she weaved through the crowd. Her ability to remain feminine in a raider's hellscape yet hold her own when needed was what had brought Eivor to love her.
The loss of Bàrid faded as her body filled with a myriad of emotions. She pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger as her breath caught in her chest. She did not enjoy the feeling of being the betrayer. The pain strangled her as longing for someone else filled her mind. How she wished the redhead that approached had a little more fire in her eyes and a more sultry sway to her hips.
Randvi's neatly braided auburn hair fell to one side and blended in with the fox pelt she wore across her shoulders. The gold clasp that pinned the pelt to her blue attire offset the blending of colors in the sun, creating an almost blinding reflection as she approached. Eivor heard the slowing and stopping of her footsteps and the boring of her eyes into the side of her head.
Randvi inspected her, unknowing that Eivor already knew she was there. She had suspected that Eivor would be tired after her trip, but she looked far much worse for wear than anticipated. Defeated was a word that came to mind as she studied the bags that were under her eyes and her braid that had fallen loose, covering the raven tattooed on the side of her head. Small accessories that she always wore were missing or improperly attached; it was the small things that only those truly close to her would notice. She would chalk it up to being on a longship for many days, but Randvi knew better. Eivor knew the importance of appearances; something more was going on that she had yet to see.

"Is something the matter?" Randvi's voice echoed in Eivor's ears; the world around her grew silent in her presence.

Randvi's smile faded as she watched Eivor's expression fall. It had been months since they had seen one another and it hurt her heart to see her return in such a state. She had heard ramblings through the crowd about Bàrid and assumed that may be the cause of her discomfort. While she did open up more around her, even Randvi knew that Eivor was not one to handle her emotions well. She was prone to outbursts and letting her emotions take hold. She was a great leader, but sometimes her heart was too big.

"Just a small headache. It was.. a long trip." She pulled her fingers away and looked at Randvi with a flat smile, her voice showing signs of wear.

"Should we head to the longhouse? Your crew can manage the cargo, I am sure." She looked around at the men who worked diligently, unloading the longship. Some had already begun to work on cataloging needed repairs.

"Go rest Eivor. You had a long journey. We will see you later at the feast. We need you all rested up so we can hear how wonderful Ireland was." Gunnar's voice boomed from behind Randvi as he made his approach. His large smile was followed by a friendly hand that slapped Eivor on the shoulder in comradery. "I will help where I am needed."

Eivor placed her hand on his extended arm in thanks. "A feast?" Eivor smiled, "Was I missed so much?" Her tired eyes brightened and her voice filled with life once more.

"Our Jarl has returned! That alone is worth celebrating."

"You are a good friend, Gunnar." Eivor kept her exhausted smile. "I will go rest."

They nodded to one another before loosening their friendly embrace. Her resolve dropped as soon as she was out of his view; she did not realize how much Ireland had taken out of her until this very moment. Her arms and legs grew weak and her chest tightened as Randvi did her best to soothe Eivor's tired mind. How could she tell her that her sorrows involved the loss of another lover?

"Come, love." Randvi cooed as she watched Eivor's face. "Let's get you out of all this noise."

Eivor forced a small smile. "Yes, let's."

The trek to the longhouse was no different from the thousand other times she had walked it, but today it felt different. The houses and shops were all the same and the dirt even more so. Even the crunch underfoot was as though it was playing on repeat in her mind, but it did nothing to soothe the feeling of being an imposter in her own body.

The feeling of watching over herself as she walked subsided as another familiar face came into view. If anyone demanded her facade, it was the one she cherished most.

"Eivor!" A wide grin spread across his face. "You must stop leaving us for so long."

"Sigurd!" She put on the best mask she could as they embraced. She had missed her brother, but it was hard to push away the darkness that grew in her chest. It was only made darker as she felt the lack of another hand wrapped around her back; how she wished she could have acted faster to spare her brother so much pain. "I was not expecting so much to happen while I was visiting Bárid, I apologize." Her mask dropped as she pulled away.

Sigurd watched her face turn solemn; it was seldom he saw his sister in such a state. "Do not think I am upset with you, Eivor." His voice filled with concern as he studied the pain in her eyes.

"It is not you. Bárid, he now feasts in the great hall."

"I see. I am sorry."

"He was a fierce warrior who fought for what he believed in; he fought till the very end."

"A fierce warrior indeed. He will be a great addition to Odin's hall."

"Aye."

The two shared a moment of silence before walking into the main hall. It was just as she had left it, albeit a little messier because of a feast that had recently been had. The smell of old wood and leather comforted her as she strolled through and eyed the familiar woodwork and tapestries.

"So tell me," she ran a hand over the armrest of her throne. Her fingers found the familiar wood carvings that she would trace as she listened to the woes of her people, and allowed her fingertips to follow the familiar path. "what has happened since I have been gone? Not too many issues, I hope?"

"A few simple spats here and there, but nothing we could not handle." Randvi reassured her.

"Good, I am thankful to have the two of you to take care of things while I am gone."

Randvi smiled and nudged Eivor away from the throne. "And that is why we are here to tell you not to worry about your duties for today. You should rest after your long journey. I will get you if anything needs your immediate attention."

Eivor's reluctant smile covered her relief. "Alright, I will take the rest of the day to get myself settled in. Thank you for taking care of things."

She made the short trip to her room, stopping for just a moment to greet Mouse, who excitedly wagged his tail at her return, and allowed her walls to fall. Her body grew heavy as the memories of her recent journey and the many weeks of being cooped up on her longship took their toll. The familiar scents of pelts and dust that normally calmed her did nothing to ease her mind. With each breath, the weight of it all took hold, bringing back the worst of her grief that she thought had passed. Little did she know, it was only the beginning.
The satchel she carried crashed onto her desk as she relieved her body of its weight and allowed her body to fall back against the closing door. The thud of her head and the clunk of the lock synchronised in sound, allowing her failing mental state to be thought of as nothing more than a tired door slam.
An exasperated sigh was pulled deep from her chest and her eyes fell shut. The unwillingness of her body told her just how badly she wanted to disappear and not deal with what was to come. Her muscles pulled and twitched under her skin as her mind yelled out for her to move, to be productive now that she was home, but not a single limb would do as she asked. Only after she could take no more of her own melancholy did her body respond.
Her fingers slid down her face and pulled at her eyes as she peeled her body from the wooden door and forced herself to move to her desk that was now in a larger state of disrepair that it has started. It was obvious by the letters sticking out of the sides of her letterbox's lid that more had happened than Randvi had let on.
Opening the lid revealed a haphazard pile of letters and other parchments; it wasn't as full as it seemed, but it was obvious Sigurd had been in charge of filling her letterbox. The corner of her lip upturned in faint amusement as she pictured her brother tossing in the letters as she organized all the papers into easier to manage piles.
She went over the upgrades that had been made to Ravensthorpe while she was gone and the letters from her old comrades that had been delivered. Many had already been opened, as Randvi had to check to make sure none were of importance, as some even responded to. She was glad certain letters had been sent to her in Ireland and not to her letterbox here; she was not sure how Randvi would have handled reading what she had received.
Several intriguing events had unfolded in Ravensthorpe in the months she was gone. The farm had expanded once more, allowing for more livestock, and Randvi and Sigurd had solidified some new trade lines so that new avenues of income could continue to make their home prosper. Eivor made note to visit the hunter's hut to ensure they were trapping enough to provide for the increased demand in pelts.
A smile grew as she read the name of a new baby girl that had been born in her absence. While increasing trade was important, it was also important to be involved in the lives of her clan and to celebrate such key events in their lives. She added the family's name to the top of her list and jotted a few things to gift the new parents and their new child.
Once she had finished reading that of utmost importance, she emptied her own belongings from her discarded satchel onto her desk. The remaining letters and notes that she stuffed into her letterbox could wait until she was in a better frame of mind.
New furs, clothes, small trinkets, amongst a few other things, were all unloaded and placed in various places around her room. She liked to bring back something small from every place she visited, and her room was nothing short of growing crowded with all she collected. The walls were even beginning to disappear as she hung the furs and heads from new animals she had the pleasure of hunting. Her trinkets kept her mind busy and relieved the pressure that had been building in her chest for the past few days, but once all was settled, her eyes found themselves glued to the last item on her desk.
She fingered the letter that remained on the desk and took her time to open it as she processed the memories it held. She knew the words inked onto it by heart and had read them every day since Ciara had disappeared. This letter was all she had left in Eivor's temporary home and it was all she had to remember her by, all that she had to help her grieve. The sultry Irish voice that wrote the song played in her head as she read the lyrics. She had not had the pleasure of hearing this song sung, but she could imagine.

Castle Cashelore atop Connacht

Looms like a lord over the vale.

Comes to conquer, Sinna himself,

Fearsome Flann Sinna himself.

The gates set agape by able Eivor

For the band led by Bárid the brave.

In rushed the Irish, hail the High King!

High King Sinna himself.

Flann the Fearsome flayed his foes

To take the tower of Cashelore

High King Flann Sinna himself.

Fearsome Flann Sinna himself.

The lyrics written on the yellowed parchment gave way to many emotions. It was never easy losing someone, especially when they were so close. She was too familiar with the feeling and all the losses were beginning to blur together. Ciara had sparked a flame in her that she had never felt before and she had let that fire lead her down a path of heartbreak and deceit.
Eivor tucked the letter, along with the others she brought back from Ireland, into the small wooden box. Two of the letters, however, she tucked into the side of the box so they would not mingle so easily with the others. She could not stop the heavy sigh as she used both hands to close the lid and let her weight hold it shut. Her body remained unmoved as she breathed through the waves that rose from her chest and through her throat. Each threatened to come out in any way it could. Many things had happened in Ireland, but she had to press on. Sigurd was right; she had been absent enough. It was time to be the Jarl her people needed, even if she was not ready to settle back into her old life just yet.
As the day wore on, Eivor's mind continued to falter. She tried her best to visit all those she could, but catching up and delivering gifts took up almost the entire afternoon. Everyone expressed their deepest condolences for Eivor's loss, but none knew of everything she suffered. Once she could take it no longer, she headed back to the main hall of the longhouse and drowned herself in a barrel of mead. Sigurd and Randvi drank with her in the beginning, celebrating life, but once they left, Eivor drank herself until she could not feel; until her mind grew quiet and the songs stopped. Her body was numb and at last her mind let her sleep.