Once he was clean, she picked up the blue beads, along with her belt, boots, and clothing, leading him across the flowery field into their moonlit stone cottage. Since it was midsummer, the night air was very warm, and there was no need to light a fire. She placed her garments on the wooden trunk where she had found the blue silk wedding gown that she had worn when Kveld married them three moons past. When she opened the window overlooking the spring, the sweet floral scent ofedelweisswafted in on the soft summer breeze.
While he sat on the bed for her to comb out the tangles and rebraid the gems into his hair and beard, she told him of Grímhildr’s curse. “When you, Gunnar, and Högni came to Hlymdalir, you did not recognize me, nor were you wearing your wedding ring.” She reached for her belt on the wooden chest and withdrew the golden band from a small leather pouch. The wolf,falcon, and dragon carved by Kveld glistened in the moonlight, and the trio of gems glittered like stars.
Sigurd slipped the ring back onto his finger. “I would never have removed it willingly.” He brushed a thumb across the etched images and sparkling gems and listened with repressed rage as she told him of the treachery of hisbloodswornBurgundian brothers and their malvamóðir.
He took hold of her hand and pulled her close. “Thank the gods Kveld helped us escape…and brought us here.” Sigurd wrapped strong arms behind her back and rested his head against her still flat belly.
I will tell him about the babe after we rekindle the ouroboros and burn away all traces of the wretched spell.
Lifting his chin with a curved finger, she bent down to kiss his soft lips. “Just as you healed me from Odin’s frozen sleep…by making love to me here, near the sacredLindsviðrspring where we were wed in starlight andseiðr…I must now cleanse you of themalva’sevil curse.”
She covered his naked body with fervent kisses.
Her warm lips nuzzled his neck, theouroborosblazing above his pounding heart, the glorious dark blond hair and tattoos inked across his broad chest. She followed the trail down his taut belly and took him in her mouth, eliciting guttural moans of pleasure.
“Not yet,” he whispered, quickly withdrawing from her eager mouth and laying her upon the bed. He caressed her quivering skin and bent to suckle her breasts. “By the gods, I have yearned for you.” Raspy voice ragged and rough, he spread her legs wide and feasted ravenous eyes on her tender folds. “And hungered for your taste…” He knelt between her legs, caressing her moist flesh with long fingers and skilled tongue. When he raised his head to gaze down at her, love, lust, and longing blazed in his hungry gaze. “I must have you,” he groaned, nudging herthighs further apart with impatient knees. He slipped his rough hands under her bottom, lifted her hips, and impaled her with a guttural growl.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his back. The salty taste of his skin tingled on her tongue as she kissed his shoulder and neck. The tension in her body drew tighter with each rhythmic thrust until waves flooded her with exquisite pleasure, her body contracting and clamping onto his.
Sigurd arrowed into her and erupted, filling her withseiðrand seed.
Theouroborosabove her breast blazed anew,dragonfiresearing and sealing their souls.
After a few moments of bliss, he lay down at her side and cradled her over his pounding heart.
As she ran tender fingertips through the dark blond hair, themark of the dragonglowed like molten gold beneath her touch. With the tip of her tongue, she reverently traced theouroboroswhich bound them together.
It sparked and sizzled in response.
“How did you bring me here?” Sigurd whispered, stroking her long locks as she lay in his arms.
“Kveld drugged Gunnar and Högni—and the crews of their twosnekkja—so that we could escape,” she murmured, her cheek resting on his broad chest. “He, Tryggvi, and Hálfdan carried you fromÚlfalkr, which is hidden along the riverbank, not far from here. The crew remains with the ship, and we depart at first light. Brother Pierre granted us these same cottages as when you brought me to the sacred spring three moons past.”
Sigurd tightened his arms around her and pressed his lips to her brow. “We sail for Norway at dawn. To Sjóborg,” he growled, his deep voice hard as iron. “My parents shall hear of this treachery. Gunnar and Högni—mybloodswornbrothers….”
He bolted upright in bed, his jaw clenched in fury. “So Gunnar stood at Hlymdalir and mocked the sacred vows you and I swore here, beside this moonlit spring. He called our wedding pagan. Invalid.” Rage flared in his livid gaze. “Yet he knew. Heknewyou were my wife.
Wind rippled over the starlit spring and wafted through the open window, chilling the air within.
“And still he claimed you by the sword.” Sigurd’s scarred hand slid to theouroborosmark above her breast.Dragonfireflared beneath hissoulboundtouch. “No man may sever our sacred bond.”
She rose onto her knees behind him on the bed, wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, and kissed his salty skin. Extending her hand before him, she displayed theouroboroswedding ring which glittered upon her finger, repeating the vows she had sworn in their moonlit wedding beside the sacred spring that had healed them both and witnessed their eternal bond. “Sigurd… my beloved Sea Wolf… I vow to love you and only you, in this life and the next. I am yours, forevermore.”
He brought her hand to his lips and solemnly kissed her ring. Lifting his own hand, he showed her the band that Kveld had crafted, which glimmered in the moonglow, returned to his rightful finger.
She slipped from the bed and stood before him, nestling between his parted thighs as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Taking his hand, she placed it low upon her belly and smiled softly, meeting his fierce lupine gaze. “I carry your child,” she whispered. “Adóttir,to be born on the winter solstice.”
Sigurd gently placed his blond bristled lips to her belly, bestowing a reverent kiss upon their unborn babe. “Let us name her Áslaug,” he murmured, as she smiled at him through unshed tears. “A gift of the gods.”
While he rested his bearded cheek against her belly, cradling both Brynhildr and their babe in his loving arms, a radiant golden glow floated into the stone cottage through the open moonlit window.
Theouroborosabove Brynhildr’s heart flared with sudden fire.
Withdrawing from Sigurd’s embrace, she dashed to the window and gazed out at the waterfall pool.
The sacred spring shimmered beneath the moonlight— a pale, liquid silver that rippled in the summer breeze. Mist rose from the pool, curling like ethereal fingers, carrying the scent ofedelweissand alpine herbs. The glimmering surface sparkled with the golden glow ofseiðr,as if thedragonfireof theouroborossummoned her and Sigurd.
“It is mymóðir,” she gasped to Sigurd, quickly pulling the emerald gown over her head. “Freyja comes to us!”
