Outside, the sun had already set behind the jagged peaks of Vågakallen. Through a narrow fissure in the roof of the cave, the rising moon now bathed the sacred space in soft, silvery light, which spilled across Úlvhild’s serene face.
Heart filled with fervent devotion and desperate hope, Haldor invoked his revered goddess.
“Freyja, hear the plaintive song of my soul,
Bound so tightly with hers,
Breathe divine light into Úlvhild’s veins,
And reignite her dying flame that still stirs.”
As Haldor’s chant swirled into the scented air, a shimmery silver light filtered through the fissure from the rock above, basking the cave in moonglow. Upon the radiant beam, an ethereal feminine form floated over Úlvhild, flooding her frail body with brilliant starlight.
Against the cave wall, the moonstone in Úvhild’s staff blazed to life, and the trio of glittering gems on the floor around her pulsed with radiant power.
Úlvhild’s pale skin glimmered from within, aglow by the sacred energy of the goddess. Her long black hair shone with iridescent silver, and the runes etched in the silver chalice whispered with Freyja’s ephemeral voice.
“I have restored her body, but only you can restore her spirit. Nurture her through the long winter. Make love every day within this sacred cave. Each time you fill her with your seed, her soul willgrow. And she will blossom—blessed byFreyja’s Bloom.”
As the ephemeral form floated on the moonbeam toward the fissure in the roof, the glowing goddess murmured, "In the spring, like the bear that slumbers through the cold months, yourvölvawill emerge—renewed, reborn, and full of life."
A whoosh of wind and a whisper of wings swept through the silent cave.
A moment later, Úlvhild stirred and opened her amber eyes, gilded by the firelight, aglow with golden life. She smiled at Haldor and fixed her loving gaze on his profoundly grateful face.
“Welcome back, my love.” He bent to kiss her full, lush lips. “I summoned Freyja to save you. As you once did, when she healed me withFreyja’s Kiss.” Haldor rose up onto his knees, brushing strands of long black hair from her beloved face.
She glanced around the cave, curious and incredulous. “Where are we? The last thing I remember, the Snake Warrior raised hisDökkálfarblade. And when I stopped him from killing you, the crimson-eyed witch struck me down.”
Haldor took hold of her hand, caressing the soft skin with his thumb. “I hurled myÍsfálkrspear into her wicked heart.” He unfurled Úlvhild’s fingers and pressed a bristled kiss inside her palm. “Myrkkha is no more. Skjöld burned her withfrostfireflame. Along with Skugga, the bodies of the slain enemy. And the putrid corpse of the troll.”
He gestured to the crackling fire, the soft furs on the stone floor, the glimmering veins of moonstone in the walls of the grotto which sheltered them. “I brought you here, to theDragon’s Leapcave,” he whispered, kissing her hand again. “Where I first summoned Freyja long ago, when I was a young acolyte of eighteen winters, like Skjöld.” He smiled down at her, immensely relieved to see her the glow of health in her radiant face. “Freyja appeared before me in this very cave, when she bestowed the gift ofFreyja’s Mark, enabling me to shift into a falcon.”
He pulled the neck of his woolen tunic down over his shoulder, revealing the feathers which glimmered with golden and violet light.
“When you summoned her to heal me as a wounded falcon, she left the mark ofFreyja’s Kisson the inside of my arm,” he said, displaying the shimmery image of faint lips amongst the tattoos of falcon feathers.
Úlvhild traced the iridescent mark and smiled, as if remembering the night she had summoned Freyja to heal him in Skårde and Ylva’s castle ofChâteaufort.
“Tonight, Freyja came into this cave on a silver beam of moonlight through that fissure.” Haldor indicated the crack in the roof where stars twinkled in the black sky. “When she healed you, your skin shone with otherworldly radiance—as if she had filled you with moonglow and starlight.”
Úlvhild stretched her languid limbs upon the soft furs. She hummed with pleasure, content as her cat Kól.
He leaned down and kissed her irresistible lips. “Freyja told me to nurture you throughout the winter in this sacred cave. To make love to you every day, filling you with my seed and my soul. She said she had blessed you withFreyja’s Bloom, and that you would blossom in the spring.”
A sudden thought occurred to him. “I wonder if she left a magical trace on your body, as she did mine.” Haldor pulled the covers back, eager to bare her luminous skin.
To their mutual astonishment, a glorious floral vine of deep green laced with silver curled low around her belly. Encased within the protective verdant swirls, three white moonflowers with deep violet centers like amethyst gems shimmered with divine light.
Freyja’s Bloom, etched in living flesh.
Haldor kissed each moonflower blossom—one just above hernafli, the soft hollow where Úlvhild’s own life had begun, the other two nestled inside the gentle curve of each hip. He traced the twirling vine with reverent fingers, replacing them with the explorative tip of his adoring tongue. As the tantalizing scent of her arousal mingled with juniper and myrrh, a passion he couldneither control nor subdue engulfed him in flames.
He threw off his tunic and stood to remove his breeches, then knelt over her, lowering his head between her trembling thighs. He feasted on her tender flesh, ignited by her gasps of pleasure and the frantic fingers clutching at his hair.
She writhed and moaned, squirming under his eager lips and tongue.
When he could bear no more, he nudged her thighs apart with impatient knees. Slid calloused, shaking hands under hips, tilting her up to welcome him. Plunged deep into her slick, warm womb, a guttural groan tearing from his taut belly.
