To trust in himself, in his girl, in Freyja.
So Njáll watched her walk away with his offering, hoping Elara would accept the little bundle of fur for what it was.
A gift. A blessing. A reminder that for her, he could be soft.
For him, it was a hope.
A cruel, uncomfortable thing that made his skin itch and his mind race.
He wanted to hate his girl. Hate her for what she did to him, for what she turned him into.
But he couldn’t.
Gods.
He adored her.
All of her.
Her fire. Her spirit. Her strength.
She was like a wildflower caught in a blizzard, refusing to wither. She didn’t relent, didn’t alter who she was.
And for that, he’d always admire her.
He didn’t want to break her. He only wanted her to harden herself, help her become the person who could survive him, survive the clan, and what duty demanded of him and any woman who stood by his side.
He’d been a fool.
She already embodied all those things, just in a way he hadn’t recognized.
Hopefully, she would find it in her heart to see him for what he was and what he could be to her.
A warrior. A shield. A partner.
It was what he wanted, and what they both needed.
Freyja saw it.
But in the end, free will reigned supreme.
It was always a choice.
And they would have to choose eachother.
Njáll had already chosen her.
And he prayed to any god who’d listen that she’d choose him.
His callused hand rested in his loose, still dripping hair, knowing he was in for another unpleasant night of no sleep. His warriors would face his ire again tomorrow, when his frustrations poured into his blade.
A soft creak made him stiffen, bringing with it a rush of air.
Slowly, his gaze moved upward. His heart hammered more violently than anything he’d ever experienced before. Even over the din of his rushing blood, he heard a tiny, high-pitched mew.
There she stood, stone-still in the archway with the kitten tucked close to her. She held the little bundle with so much tenderness it made his throat ache. The creature’s curious eyes blinked in the firelight, its black-booted paws kneading in Elara’s woolen dress.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
