They sat in a silence that was only broken by the crackling of the fire. A branch broke, collapsed into the growing pile of embers, and sent forth sparks like those which had escaped Muspel to form the stars.

Astrilda stared off to one side, her lips pursed, brows furrowed, then sat up straight once more and forced a smile. “There. We’ve come to it at last. What a cheerful evening we’ve spent together.”

Skadi frowned at the other woman. Slowly turned Thyrnir about in her fingers. What to do?

“If I release you, where will you go? Back to Afastr?”

Astrilda licked her lower lip, uncertain. “I… perhaps, yes. To confront him with my weakness. I’m… tired of pretending to be other than what I am. Maybe there’d be relief in daring him to do his worst. In confirming his suspicions of me. I’m… tired. I’ve been so weary for so many years. There’s an appeal to just letting the pretense drop and standing before him garbed only in honesty.”

“What do you think he would do?” whispered Skadi.

“Honestly?” Astrilda thought it over. “Express his disappointment, strike me down, and move on with the business of capturing you. I don’t think my betrayal would upset him much. He is, if nothing else, endlessly pragmatic.”

“What if you had another choice?”

Astrilda narrowed her eyes. “How so?”

“Don’t return to him. Come back to Kráka with me. Join our side, fight him, show him that he can’t have his way in all things.”

Astrilda laughed, a chilly, hollow sound. “Fight my brothers and father? Fight the warriors I grew up with—to what end? To kill Afastr?”

“If he gives us no choice.”

“And leave the North unguarded? Have you forgotten what I told you? Say by some miracle we defeat my father, kill him. Who would guard against Niflheim and the return of the Draugr?”

“If his responsibility is so sacred then he shouldn’t indulge in idle war.”

“It’s not idle. He needs you, to consummate with you. To kill you. So that he may live forever.”

Skadi gaped again.

“It’s my own theory. Nobody else has spoken it. But why else would he behave thus? Why else seek out special women of unique potential like yourself?”

“He consumes their wyrds,” said Skadi softly. “Perhaps that’s it. The act of creating children gives him some power over them, or…” She trailed off. She couldn’t fathom how it might work. “Then all the more reason to stop him. He’s no drengr. He’s nothing more than a rapist and murderer.”

“He’s that, yes, but also more.” Astrilda sounded exhausted.

They sat in silence. The fire burned down. Astrilda had gathered enough wood to keep it burning, but neither woman moved to place fresh branches upon it.

Skadi felt her heart pounding in her chest. To think that she’d sat beside Afastr, conversed with him.

I am older than I look, and have traveled far and wide.

She didn’t understand what Astrilda had told her of Niflheim and the dark years that had followed the Age of Dreams. Niflheim, she’d been raised to believe, was nestled between the roots of Yggdrasil deep beneath the ground, not reachable in the far North. Nor could she understand nor imagine what Afastr did to maintain the sanctity of its borders. Killing him would not usher in a new dark age, or Ragnarok, or whatever it might be.

Afastr had lied glibly to her about their child defeating Archea.

What other lies had he fed other women down the ages? Who was to say that all Astrilda believed was not just another elaborate hoax told by her father to keep his settlement biddable and in line?

“I will fight him,” Skadi said. “I will do my utmost to defeat him in battle. There is much about this world that I don’t understand, but I know this: Afastr is evil, and must be stopped.”

“As I said,” whispered Astrilda. “Your innocence is precious.”

“It’s not innocence,” hissed Skadi. “It’s having morals. Did you lose yours so long ago you’ve forgotten what the word even means?”

Astrilda’s eyes widened and she went completely still. Her slate blue eyes burned in the firelight, and for a moment Skadi thought she’d respond, fire for fire.

But instead, the other woman looked away once more. “Perhaps.”

Skadi’s regret was immediate. “But you can rediscover yourself, your true self, if you but turn away from Kaldrborg. Believe me, I thought my world was encompassed and always would be by my home of Kalbaek, by my father’s rule. But Kalbaek is gone, my father absent from my life this whole long summer, and yet here I stand, more myself than ever. Leave Kaldrborg. Leave your father. Don’t think of yourself as weak and needing his judgment. Think instead that you are strong, and breaking free of his influence at long last.”

Astrilda clucked her tongue angrily and stood up. Paced from one side of their small enclosure to another, restless like a caged hunting cat, to finally stop and stare out into the dark, hugging herself tightly.

“And where would I go, Skadi Styrbjörnsdóttir? To Kráka? You truly believe I’d be welcomed there?”

“You would be if I spoke for you,” said Skadi stoutly to the other woman’s back.

Who shook her head slowly. “No. I would be seen as a traitor to my jarl. I wouldn’t be trusted. I’m the one who kidnapped you to begin with. Your jarl is canny. He’d suspect me of being a spy, a double agent. He would have me clapped in irons.”

Skadi bolted to her feet. “No. I would speak for you. I would demand you be treated fairly. You could join my circle. I would take responsibility for you. You’d be free.”

Astrilda looked over her shoulder at Skadi, her crimson hair tumbling down over her shoulder and across her back. “And why would you do that?” Her words were a sneer. “Why do you care? What am I to you that you’d risk so much?”

Skadi hesitated then crossed to where the other shieldmaiden stood. Her breath was trapped in her throat, and she felt drawn forth, compelled to move to the other woman. “I… it’s not fair what’s happened to you. If I can help you, I will.”

Astrilda turned to face her full-on, her expression derisive. Only inches separated them. “But why, Skadi? I am no stray pup that you’re bringing in out of the cold. I am your enemy.”

Skadi searched the other woman’s face. “Are you?”

Astrilda hesitated. For a moment she looked unsure, but then her expression hardened. “Oh, how sweet it must be, to see the world through your pretty eyes.”

“I told you I’m no innocent. I’m offering you a chance. Come back with me. Change your wyrd.”

Astrilda laughed, a scornful, throaty sound. “Change my wyrd. That cannot be done. And what would happen if I returned with you, Skadi? Would you invite me to stay in your home?”

Skadi blushed. “Of course. You would be part of my circle.”

Astrilda reached up to curl a lock of Skadi’s hair behind her ear, her touch causing Skadi’s skin to flush. “And is that all? Or do you think something more would happen between us? A shy and gentle love? That we’d become bosom friends, confide in each other, share our darkest secrets, our truest hopes?”

Astrilda traced the line of her jaw, and Skadi felt hypnotized, paralyzed by the older woman’s stare.

“That we’d grow close, bathe in that waterfall together, me endlessly grateful for your mercy, your benevolence, so generous and oh so kind? That one night we’d lie together, just as friends, and our bodies would touch, by accident, and then again, but now on purpose?”

Astrilda leaned in closer, her breath warm on Skadi’s skin, who could only stand there shivering as the other woman’s nose brushed against her cheek. “That we’d slip our hands under each other’s clothing, that our lips would meet, and after a night of bliss, would become close, that we would… love each other?”

Skadi stared at the darkness beyond the boulders. She yearned for Astrilda’s hands to touch her, not lightly, but firmly, eagerly. For her words to melt into more, something that matched the feverish uncertainty and desire that roiled in her molten core.

“Is that where you think this goes?” Astrilda drew back slightly so that they could stare into each other’s eyes once more. “You and I, holding hands, hearts united, standing against my father?”

Her voice was broken, and it was all she could manage to croak, “Perhaps.”

Astrilda’s smile curved cruelly. “Oh, Skadi.” She leaned in and kissed her, the pressure of her lips soft, then stepped back. “You are such a child.”

Skadi blinked, torn free of the hazy fog of euphoria and dread in which she’d been steeped, to see that the other woman had drawn Natthrafn from its sheathe and raised its point to her throat.

For a moment they stood thus, the whole world pulsing around them as shock and self-loathing and horror buffeted Skadi like storm waves about a skiff, and then Astrilda laughed, reversed her grip on the seax, and held it out to Skadi.

Who took it in nerveless hands and stepped back. “I don’t understand.”

“No, and that’s the pity.” Astrilda’s smile became sorrowful. “Perhaps in another life, Skadi. But not in this one. Perhaps if I’d met you five years ago. But now? I have seen too much, done too much to enjoy that simple dream of yours. That is not my wyrd. My path takes me elsewhere.”

“To Kaldrborg.”

“To my father.” Astrilda crossed her arms and turned to face the dark once more. “I will not face him across a field of battle, having proven myself a cowardly traitor. I will face him directly and speak my truth to his face. And if he ends my life, then so be it. I will have died as I once wished to live, as a drengr.”

Skadi stared in hopeless confusion at the other woman, then stepped back again. “If that is what you wish.”

“Thank you.” Astrilda looked sharply over her shoulder once more to smile at her, a brittle, pained, jagged smile. “For not trying to argue with me further.”

“I may be young, but I recognize when a warrior has set herself upon her true path.” Skadi inhaled shakily. “I shall of course respect your decision.”

“Which says more about you than you know. Few are the powers in this world that will allow others to make their own decisions.”

Skadi smiled. “I am no power.”

“Not yet, perhaps.” Astrilda’s smile became friendly. “But someday you surely will be.”

The warmth of her smile was harder to bear than her disdain, for in it lay a hint of what could have been, how she might have come to regard her, what could have grown between them.

Skadi sheathed Natthrafn brusquely and sat. “Then it seems we are decided. Come dawn, we shall go our separate ways.”

“Indeed,” murmured Astrilda. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention in.”

“No. I mean that. This is the conversation I wish I could have had with someone back home many years ago. But none of my siblings or companions were ever willing to truly listen.” Astrilda sat back down across the fire from her. “Who knows where my path may have led if I’d faced these truths when I was your age?”

They sat in silence, staring at each other over the dying fire.

“There’s just a couple of hours till dawn,” said Skadi at last. “We should sleep.”

“Yes,” agreed the other woman.

Neither of them moved.

The silence stretched out, and Skadi became aware of her pulse once more.

“Come here,” said Astrilda at last.

Skadi’s breath caught.

“Come here,” laughed Astrilda. “I promise I won’t bite.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Skadi rose to her feet. Considered her weapons, then set Thyrnir against the boulder and walked around the fire.

Astrilda reached up for her, parting her legs to make room. “Here. Sit before me.”

Skadi turned, faced the fire, and sat. Astrilda hugged her back against her chest. “Relax. Is this the first time a woman has held you?”

Skadi thought of Yri. “No.”

“Then relax.”

Slowly, Skadi did so. She kept expecting the other woman to do something, to touch her, kiss her. Feared her doing so and yearned for it at the same time. But Astrilda simply held her, and eventually raised a hand to run her fingertips gently through Skadi’s hair.

“Don’t change too quickly,” the other shieldmaiden whispered. “Once lost, that richness can never be regained.”

Skadi didn’t reply. She wriggled back slightly, getting more comfortable. Astrilda’s body was warm against her own, hard in some places, soft in others. The sensation of her fingers caressing her hair was wonderful. Soothing. Comforting. How long had it been since somebody had treated her thus? She thought of her mother combing out her hair and humming her little prayer to their hall’s disir over and over. Where was she now?

Skadi felt a lump of pain and longing arise within her. Her vision refracted through tears that brimmed but failed to spill down her cheek.

She leaned her head back onto Astrilda’s shoulder. The other woman pressed her cheek to her temple and hugged her tight.

Together they sat in the cold, the fire burning down to coals. Even as the sky began to lighten Skadi vowed she’d stay awake, to drink in deep of this moment so she could remember it forever, but then, somewhere between one deep breath and the next, she finally fell asleep.