“Doesn’t seem fair, does it,” Thorodd stated as he winked at Osvif. “We get a damn dress and he gets an axe.”

“True, but then again, he does shoot lightning from his ass, so it makes sense.”

Both men chuckled as Einar let each of the Vikings take a turn examining the weapon.

“It feels wrong,” Thorleif said. “Like, holding it… I could use it, but it’s almost as if it wants me to let go of it and return it to you.”

“I thought the same thing,” Hallad muttered, still rubbing his hand. “Like a nettle prick. It stings for a little bit after.”

“Who cares!” Skardi bellowed as he sat down another two handfuls of mugs filled with the first real ale that the elves had made for them. “Drink! Tomorrow we ride for home!”

Everyone let out a cheer and soon the axe found its way back to Einar’s hand where he slipped it into the belt loop, a calm presence washing over him as all the Vikings who had come with them celebrated as one.

Music was being played by a group of elves and men, creating a rare moment of loud drumming that kept the beat to the wind and string instruments they played.

Einar couldn’t help but grin as Varitan spun Thorve around the illuminated courtyard, the healer laughing and smiling as the pair danced with all the others who had gathered for one last time.

“Hard to believe most of these men and women will never see you and your warriors for a while.”

Giving Lyeneru a gentle shove, Einar nodded.

“You sad to see us go or just Osvif?”

Even with just the light of the fires and some magical globes that helped illuminate the area, he could see the rush of color to her cheeks.

“It… is going to be hard to see someone so smart be gone. He is a rare thing among your people who often just rush head first without a plan.”

“And he’s the only one who I can recall bringing you flowers occasionally as we traveled.”

The color of crimson grew deeper and Lyeneru growled, turning her head as she pretended to look elsewhere.

“I’m just saying, while I know you are escorting us back to the portal, you won’t have much time to tell him how you feel. Part of me feels foolish to say that he feels the same but you two are spending as much time dancing around the subject as Thorve and Thorodd.”

She coughed and shook her head.

“We do not fight like that!”

“No, you do not. Instead, you hide behind the he is a Viking and I am an elf, even though Freyr himself removed that obstacle over a month ago.”

As if he had somehow heard his name, Osvif began to move toward them, a large smile present and a cup of mead in each hand.

“Go, be a brave warrior and hunt a new prey, Lyeneru. Before you fail to capture it.”

The elven ranger turned, glaring at Einar as she smirked.

“I hope I use this right, but fuck you!” she said playfully before moving toward the approaching Viking, taking the drink he offered her and leading him toward the dancing.

Standing there, watching the celebration, his heart twinged and the memory of Avitue he had kept tamping down rose up.

Soon he would return and he could finally keep the promise he had made.

Ten women… ten men… what in the gods could go wrong with that?

“Einar, you should stop looking like me and join us for a bit.”

Chuckling, he saw Thorleif smiling at him, two pieces of branches stuck in his black beard by an elven warrior who had been dancing with him a little earlier.

“Are you saying, I’m not being a good host?”

“I’m saying as an old warrior, there is a time to celebrate and if ever that moment had come, it is now.”

The older Viking moved closer, holding out a weathered hand and nodded when his pack leader shook it.

“You’re young, but wise. Strong and fast. Touched by the gods themselves, but you also carry a weight we can all see. Tonight, set the weight down and celebrate. For a moment, you Einar are simply a Viking who fought against a foe and lived to tell the tale. Well… I mean you died… many of us did, but still, here we are!”

Both of them burst into laughter as he patted the arm of the quiet warrior who quickly turned and shouted before moving back to the celebration.

He’s right. Let yourself have this chance. Celebrate the win.

Taking the advice, he took a deep breath and let the weight of his feelings vanish. In a moment, Einar found himself drawn by the music and merriment, joining the dancing as the stars in the night sky fought with the moon to watch a celebration of an impossible quest that was complete.

***

“Just one more night, and then we’ll be inside Midgard again.”

Stolen story; please report.

Bobbing his head at Thorleif’s statement, Einar studied the list of materials they had collected once more.

“Those two are still acting like lovebirds also. Gods that is so sickening.”

Snorting, he glanced behind the column of riders, seeing Thorodd and Thorve who were riding together on a single horse.

“I swear she must have spiked his drink or cast a spell on him,” Einar stated. “He went from always fighting with her to making me wonder if she was going to lay a wedding wreath at his feet.”

“Oh, she won’t do that. That was what the original fighting was about,” Thorleif replied.

His eyebrow raised and Einar found himself studying the warrior who was now grinning.

“You didn’t know? It seems your lack of knowledge on that subject surprises me.”

“He wants to get married?”

Waving his hand, Thorlief shook his head.

“Not my business and I’ve said too much. Just know that the speech you gave Osvif and our elven ranger has spread to a few others. I’d swear Freyr himself has blessed people with urges lately.”

Stuffing the papers in his horse's saddle bag, Einar glanced around at the Vikings he was responsible for, noticing that there was a different attitude in the air.

“Would Freyr do that?”

“Again, not my place to determine what a god might do.”

Two black eyes studied him and Einar shifted slightly in his saddle.

“What?”

“You’re distracted. You have been since we set out. Is it because we are finally headed home or because you’re thinking about what is waiting for us when we return?”

Sighing, all he could do was shake his head and smirk.

“You’re different as well. When did my silent warrior become so chatty?”

“I’m only here to point out the obvious which seems something everyone is lately failing to notice,” he replied. “Thorodd is like a love-sick teen, and Osvif is wide-eyed for Lyeneru and her green eyes. Skardi has found himself an elven woman, and I won’t talk about the others who are chasing tail like a buck in rut.”

“And you?”

“Preparing for what awaits us. I’m not a fool, and neither are you, but you must restore order. The time for celebrating is over. What is about to take place requires you to be the Viking we all followed all those months ago. Once word gets out…”

Nodding, Einar dug into his saddle bag and tossed a coin to Thorleif, who caught it. He frowned when he saw it.

“You earned that. Thank you for the wisdom.”

Shaking his head, the warrior held the coin out.

“I’m not here giving this advice to earn this. Instead, I’ll be the one who says it's time to shoulder that weight again, and I know you’ve been hesitant to do so after having forgotten it for a few weeks.”

Fishing into the bag again, Einar pulled out another coin and held it out.

“Take this one as well. You’re quickly becoming my fifth favorite Viking.”

Snorting, Thorleif shook his head and pocketed the one he held.

“No. One is more than enough. If I took two, you’d have every one of these damn warriors trying to offer you advice.”

Laughing, Einar slid the second coin back into his pack and nodded.

“There was a time I wondered why Thorodd recommended you so highly. Now I know its not just for your bald head.”

***

“You look amazing!”

His eyes couldn’t stop looking at Avitue and how she had filled out. Her body had transformed so much in the time he had been gone and now, holding her in his arms, her scent filled his nostrils.

“I’ve missed you,” she stated, winking at him, her braid swinging back and forth as she shook her head. “You’ve grown as well. Tell me, have you remembered what you promised me?”

His mind tried to think about what it was he might had said.

Her black eyes sparkled as she grinned, coming closer her lips pursed to kiss him.

Breathing deep, the scent of her filled his lungs and mind and an itch of why there was no smell bothered him. She squeezed him tight, his breathing becoming more difficult and then panic set in.

“Avitue!”

Pain lanced in his side and her mouth grew wider, two tongues coming out, darting around.

[ Divine Protection ]

[ Blessed Healing ]

Like a cold bucket of water was tossed on him, everything shifted.

Gone was the meadow he had been standing in. No longer was Avitue there, clothed in armor, tongues coming for him.

Instead, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon through the window, just a foot from his face, was the open maw of the alpha shadow walker he had faced so many months ago.

A grin almost seemed to be present as both tongues stroked his face, wet, sticky liquid running down from his temple.

The sound of a gentle purr was barely audible and then the black eyes seemed to realize he was no longer subdued.

Claws began to press into him, pushing through his flesh with ease, pain threatening to overwhelm him as the jaws opened wide.

A slight sound that resembled laughter came as it turned its head sideways, preparing to bite off his skull.

[ Thor’s Blessing ]

Pain came as the roof of the building he was sleeping in exploded and the bolt of lightning connected with the creature holding him.

It seized up, crying out, appendages driving deeper into him as its body began to shake.

The bed broke, sending both of them to the floor. The scent of burning wood, cloth, and flesh filled the air.

Einar couldn’t see, the lightning having blinded him but he could feel the creature's weight pressing upon him. It was sitting up partially, flailing, as its hooked arms occasionally sliced him.

Ignoring the pain, unable to hear from the loud boom and sensation he had felt, Einar focused on what he had learned about his new weapon.

He called to it, knowing it had been on the table near him, just a few feet away but there was no telling where it was now.

It didn’t matter. The King had told him about what made it so special.

Seconds passed, feeling like hours and then the sensation of the wooden handle was there, surrounded by his fingers and palm.

Drawing upon his wyrd, angry at himself and for not being more cautious, not having taken Thorleif’s advice, Einar felt the rage of how life was going to be from now on.

It was going to be dangerous every second of the day.

Power flowed through him and into the axe, and he began to swing wildly with his right arm, feeling it connect. Einar sensed the weight of the shadow walker shifting, but he was still unable to see in the room filled with smoke, and his eyes were not working.

He hacked at it.

It attacked him.

Sounds came but none of it mattered.

The creature's weight started to shift, and acting on instinct, Einar raised his left arm, feeling those powerful jaws clamp down on his forearm.

One second, the pressure was there. The next, it was gone.

He ignored the pain, choosing to swing where he knew he needed to.

A howl came, and the thrashing began.

Each second was a moment filled with agony. The strike had struck true, sending the shadow walker into a frenzy as it clawed at itself and at Einar.

Neither man nor beast surrendered to the other, each one blindly attacking in that small space until darkness and death overtook them both.