Work Text:
vin sínum
skal maðr vinr veraþ
eim ok þess vinr
en óvinar síns
skyli engi maðr
vinar vinr vera
–-
The sea was calm that night, lapping gently against Fálki’s sturdy flanks as she drifted under the countless stars of the Winter Way.
He’d sailed up the northern coast often enough to know not to underestimate Njörðr‘s whims – or Þórr’s temper. So he kept vigil even if it wasn’t his watch.
(“You will have smooth sailing,” the Queen had said as if coming out of one of her trances. “If you leave within the fortnight.”
They’d cut it close. And maybe that was what gnawed at him. If anyone - save the Norns - could know their fate, it was Queen Leiðvǫr.)
He settled more steadily against the hull and then shifted, almost involuntarily, closer to Hreiðunn’s sleeping form. She was frowning in her sleep.
*
Finn’s voice drifted from the darkness of the aft. “You know I will kill you if you ever hurt her.”
I could never come between the two of you, he almost said.
But somehow he sensed this wasn’t about that. That somehow, should it ever come to that, he would be a perfect – and welcome – fit. He pushed the feeling aside for later examination.
“You know I never would,” he said instead, softly as not to wake her.
“I know,” Finn said evenly, moving closer. “But I figured it was something that bore saying either way.”
“Do you swear it?”
“I’ve sworn in Týr’s name to protect and defend her, her family, her hearth and her home.” Finn sounded slightly puzzled. “Same as you with the Queen. You know that.”
“I meant,” he said, frowning slightly as if his own words were foreign to him. “Do you swear, not in Týr’s name but by the oath of blood that binds us, that you will strike me dead if I ever cause her harm or grief?”
A chuckle came from the shadows somewhere to his left and a dark hand brushed away a lock of hair from the sleeping girl’s pale face.
“If I did, I’d probably have to strike you down the next time you open your mouth in her presence.”
He chuckled in turn. “Even so.”
“I swear.”
–