It didn’t feel right to bother Týr with this, but by the way he watched me, I knew he expected an answer. “I overheard my parents talking to Jarl Rune. The king is furious with my behavior. They’re worried he might do something to retaliate.”
My grip on my legs tightened. “I shouldn’t have refused him. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t.”
“No.” Týr’s voice was hard. “You did the right thing.”
Did I, even when it caused my family problems? When that was the best realistic marriage prospect I had?
I couldn’t voice that to Týr. I couldn’t voice it to anyone. It bubbled and roiled deep in my chest, turning to frustration that I couldn’t do anything about. I had no lover, no family of my own, no one who could relate to what I was going through to talk these feelings and issues through.
I was utterly alone.
And it was suffocating.
I released my legs and leaned against the tree. “Maybe.”
Silence fell over us. It wasn’t quite comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either.
Lightning flashed and splintered overhead, thunder following. The rain picked up, and yet I still didn’t want to leave.
I let out a startled squeak when Týr suddenly rested his forehead on my shoulder where it met my neck. “Týr?”
He didn’t say anything, just breathed hard. Even through such little contact, I felt the tension roiling through him. Whatever was bothering him today, it really was hard for him to put into words.
With slight hesitation, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his head. My fingers tangled in his hair and I pulled him tight against me. I didn’t care if this was appropriate or not. He needed me now. “I’m here.”
Týr responded by wrapping his arms around my waist and crushing me to him. His powerful, masculine scent enveloped me and my heart thundered in my chest. I was sure he could hear it, and I didn’t care.
This was something I’d wanted from him. Maybe not in the exact way I’d longed, but I’d take a dose of reality with my fantasy if it meant I could have a small slice.
“She’s gone…” he murmured in such a pained quiet voice, I almost didn’t hear him. “She’s gone… Odinn… Odinn killed her.”
I ran my fingers through his hair. “Who?”
“Kirby.”
I froze. “W–what?”
Kirby, the beautiful Valkyrie I’d met. Kirby, the Valkyrie who was grace and power when she sparred with the men. Kirby, the warrior who taught me how to better fight with a weapon should my magic fail. Kirby, the woman who was fun to be around, that I could call a friend and not feel strange doing so. She was… “Why?”
Týr pressed his face harder into my chest, as if he could hide from reality. “She disobeyed. Her lover, Starkad, died in battle and she brought him back to life instead of sending him to Valhalla. She… manipulated his life force to make him immortal.”
My skin tingled and the cold sensation numbing my insides spread throughout my body. She made him… immortal? “Is that… even possible?”
“Yes,” Týr said. “Some mortals have the potential to become immortal, either on their own or through some outside assistance. Most berserkers, due to their unique soul, will become immortal in time if they survive all the war they see. But the way she did it… it was unnatural for berserkers. And the ability to do what she did has never been seen in Valkyries before. We’re not sure what kind of effect this will have.”
“And Odinn killed her for this?”
Týr’s grip tightened. “He didn’t just kill her. He cursed her soul. Claimed she would live a thousand lifetimes until she understands what it means to be a Valkyrie.”
What it means to be a Valkyrie? What would Odinn know about what it meant to be one compared to a Valkyrie herself?
“I tried to stop him,” Týr said. There was so much pain in his voice, it made my chest ache. “I told him it wasn’t right and that I wouldn’t stand by and allow it. Even Baldr sided against his father. That only infuriated Odinn, to see his favorite son side with me. And Kirby… she still died. I failed her, and the gods are now at odds…”
I ran my fingers through his hair some more and stroked his back. Soft hushing sounds came from my lips as I tried to calm and console him. “You didn’t fail her. Wherever her soul is now, she’ll know you tried. She’ll never fault you for that. I know I wouldn’t if I were her.”
We didn’t say anything more. I continued to hold him until he calmed.
“Thank you, Valkyrie,” he murmured.
