“He attacked me for some reason. We’re still not sure why.”
“Did you do something to make him angry?”
“It’s possible I angered Odinn, so he sent Thor after me.” I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.
“Why would you make Odinn mad?”
I shrugged. “Because I don’t follow him without question, and I do not care about a prophecy that foretells Fenrir will kill him. In fact, I question a lot of what Odinn does, and embrace my friendship with Fenrir. And Odinn doesn’t like any of it.”
She smiled a little. “That sounds like something you’d do.”
I was quite surprised by her response. “Not going to chastise me?”
Astrid pulled away, her healing complete. “No. You know what you’re doing when it comes to your actions with the other gods.” Her gaze flicked up to me. “But do be careful who you anger. You don’t know if the next time, their wrath might result in you losing your hand.”
I ran my hand over the newly healed arm. Not a mark remained to show for Thor’s attempt on my life. I couldn’t help but marvel at her ability. If more caught wind of this, she would be sought after by so many kings. The thought left a sour taste in my mouth. “Thank you for the healing. I’ll have to come by more often to have you improve the rest of me.”
She smiled, though it didn’t reach far up her beautiful face. Somehow, I got the feeling she didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame her. I hadn’t had that great of a track record for returning in a timely fashion after making such claims. They probably hurt her, sounding more like lies offered as a pretty gift.
I told myself to stay away and let her live out her life, but staying away didn’t feel right, either. I needed to make a choice either way, because this indecision was hurting a woman who didn’t deserve that treatment.
Astrid grabbed her herb basket and rose to her feet. “The village is celebrating the return of our warriors and those who died with honor. You are welcome to join.”
That might explain her attire.
She looked toward Runavík. “I doubt it’ll be as fantastic as any celebration the gods may hold, or one we would hold after the harvest, but we do our best. And I think the warriors would be thrilled to share drinks with a god they fought alongside.”
I had wanted to avoid celebrating, but as I gazed up at her, that choice didn’t sound appealing anymore. “Will you be there?”
She seemed taken aback by my question. “Uh, yes, I planned to be there.”
I stood, dismissing what armor I wore to the pocket space war gods could access. As a god, I required little in the way of armor, and what I did have was more for show. Though, as a result, my attire underneath hadn’t been spared from the blood of my enemies. It would have to do in this situation, as I had no way of acquiring anything else quickly. I doubted Astrid’s family could provide me with even a loaner tunic. I was quite a bit taller than most of the Norse people. I even towered over Astrid, and she was rather average in height for a woman.
I offered my arm to her after taking her basket. “Then I’ll be happy to attend.”
Astrid hesitated for a moment, as if surprised by my offer, and then smiled and wrapped her arms around mine, pressing her figure against me. Her warmth seeped into my skin and traveled through me. What would it be like to have her pressed against me, under me, writhing in pleasure until she screamed my name?
This was idiotic. I was playing a dangerous game for a woman I barely knew. But I wanted to know her. I wanted to unravel the mystery of this woman who wrapped you in kindness and protected you with burning ferocity. I wanted to understand what she truly could mean to me, even if that risked more to me than to her.
We walked through town, stopping at her home so she could leave her herb basket and I could freshen up, before heading to the massive building that was the mead hall. I heard the celebration before I could see it. All of Runavík was here. They were already feasting and drinking. A minstrel sang, and I was fairly sure a flyting was in progress.
The jarl and his wife, along with many other nobles, were seated at one end of the building, the jarl himself up on a raised dais. I took in the seating arrangements, noting the seating was set up like most other towns and villages in this region, with the nobles and warriors closest to the jarl and the poor and children farthest away.
A huge fire roared in the center of the building, meat roasting over it.
Cheers arose when my presence was noticed, and I was ushered away from Astrid to join some warriors in a retelling of my battle with Thor, as well as anyone else who wanted to hear. An exaggerated tale was told, but that was to be expected. Even the gods did it.
Of course, I wasn’t as present, trying to find Astrid. I’d come here because of her. I didn’t want to go through these festivities if she was off somewhere else.
Bjørn slapped a hand on my shoulder and bent close to my ear. “Looking for someone?”
I hadn’t been all that subtle in my search. Nor did I feel the need to lie. “Yes.”
He smirked and then Astrid’s voice came from my other side. “More mead, Týr?”
I turned to find her standing beside me, a decorative pitcher in hand. Where had she disappeared to all this time, only to reappear when I desperately wanted her near?
Bjørn chuckled and patted my shoulder before leaving. I ignored his behavior, fully focused on Astrid, and held up my drinking horn. “Yes.”
