Valkyrie Fallen Chapter 31

Leif

This pain in my chest… I didn’t have words for it. I fell so quickly, so hard for Brenna. It was like jumping off a cliff and landing on the solid rock.

I couldn’t even make it make sense to myself. I barely knew the woman. She was beautiful, and kind, and clever, and had clearly experienced an entire world I knew nothing about. These were all admirable traits, but even together, they didn’t explain the depth of my feelings for her.

Idly, I wondered if she was some kind of witch who’d cast a spell over me. It wasn’t likely, but it was fun to consider as a way to ease the pain in my aching heart.

Bjorn. Like a brother to me. Of course Brenna was attracted to him. With his sheer size, he could impress most women. But he was also more brooding, more masculine than me. Among my remaining brothers I felt like a man, but next to him I look like someone’s kid brother.

It just wasn’t fair. There was no way I could compete, not if that was what she liked. And of course it was. It was what all women liked. Big, burly, brooding men who grunted responses and came home with blood in their beards from fighting their enemies.

I was still embarrassingly unable to grow a full beard, so I kept what I grew clean-shaven. I was reasonably tall, taller than Soren, but even though I was muscular it wasn’t the same kind of impressive size that either of the older men had. They liked to joke I could pass for a buff woman if I donned a dress, and while their teasing was all in good fun, I had to admit it hurt.

Women like Brenna didn’t want a pretty man; they wanted a strong, burly, masculine man.

And that wasn’t me.

I cut through the patch of woods between my house and Bjorn’s, whipping at the bright spring leaves that were still uncurling on the trees.

Fortunately, I hadn’t declared that I loved her.

But I knew, in the depths of my heart, that I loved her. From the moment I’d laid eyes on her—really seen her—I’d felt something. I’d even been impressed with her courage when she got between us and finishing our business with Skarde. But it wasn’t until I saw her in the bright sunlight, practically glowing, that my heart lurched in a way I didn’t quite understand.

And now I could never have her.

Or… could I?

Was I counting myself out of the race before it even started?

Brenna had appeared as surprised by Bjorn’s kiss as I had been. Perhaps I needed to be more aggressive, show her I meant what I said, that I wanted her.

That I would fight for her.

My heart raced, pulse pounding in my ears.

Yes, Bjorn was bigger than me, more masculine perhaps.

But I had skills he didn’t. And maybe those skills, and a little aggressiveness could make all the difference.

I wasn’t giving up on Brenna yet. The ache in my chest eased as I stepped quickly through the woods, plans surfacing in my mind to show Brenna that I was a far better fit for her than Bjorn.

Bjorn

Brenna and Soren stayed in the barn for a fair amount of time. I assumed continuing to talk. Since I had no interest in explaining my foul mood to Signe, I climbed to the hills instead of returning to the longhouse. Nestled between our field and the sheer rock face was a small outcropping of boulders, and it was here I liked to stretch out when I needed to clear my mind and find peace.

I’d told myself that what Brenna did before she turned up at our door didn’t matter. I sincerely didn’t want to know; I was fairly certain the knowledge would bring me less peace and more trouble.

Sure enough, that woman was trouble.

Of all the men in our village, Skarde was the one I absolutely hated. And Brenna’s pointed criticism was correct: None of us had offered her a place to stay. Granted, she had come out of nowhere and fought against us—she could hardly expect us to turn around and invite her into our homes, even knowing she did not know Skarde’s history.

However, it was equally unfair for me to be so angry, knowing I’d left her no alternative. 

I knew that. Logically, I knew it was unfair.

But gods, it hurt. I had barely the time to recognize the softening I felt, deep within my heart, for Brenna, before Soren delivered the news that she’d spent her night with Skarde before coming here.

Wait a minute. Why had Soren decided now was the time to tell me this piece of information? We’d been on a trip for a week, just him and I, and he hadn’t seen fit to mention it then. He clearly knew before we left, we hadn’t spoken to anyone since we returned.

He sat on the knowledge and waited for this moment to tell me.

Of course.

Because it wasn’t important for me to know until he realized how I felt about Brenna. And once he knew, he wanted me to be angry at her, perhaps disgusted, and so he dropped that tidbit and sat back and waited for me to blow up.

Which, of course, I did exactly what he expected.

Damn him. I was not a stupid man, but I often felt that way when dealing with Soren’s cleverness. It felt as if he was constantly playing a game. Sometimes I was playing with him, on his team, and sometimes I was merely a tool.

I thought about marching down to the barn and calling him out for manipulating me, but in the end, it was information I needed to know. Whether I agreed with how he withheld it until he could get the result he wanted, it didn’t really matter. The most important fact was that I knew Brenna had spent the night with Skarde, and now I had to decide what to do with that knowledge.

I considered my feelings for Brenna without Skarde. I’d been excited to see her as we returned. And first seeing her, then realizing how she’d helped Signe, watching all three of my sisters playing joyfully, my heart had nearly burst with admiration I needed to show her.

That admiration came in the form of the kiss. It was as unplanned as the first, but far less confusing. I knew what I felt in that moment: I was happy to see Brenna; I felt a surge of warm feelings for her, and I wanted to kiss her.

I wouldn’t say I loved her; not yet. It was far too soon and there were far too many unanswered questions about her past.

The real question was: once I added knowing that she had given her body, even just for one night, to Skarde, did that change how I felt about her?

I knew Brenna had a history she hadn’t told us. One look in her eyes was enough to know she had been through more hard times than we could imagine. It wasn’t difficult to imagine she had had a husband, or a lover, or both, in the past. I could hardly expect that she would be untouched, and I certainly didn’t resent her for it.

However, was Skarde different from other men? If I didn’t mind, didn’t expect her to be untouched, could I make the argument that Skarde was somehow worse, somehow left her dirtier than any other man?

As much as I recoiled against the idea, the image of Skarde’s hands on her flesh, I couldn’t imagine her somehow sullied from the contact.

Despite contact with him, there was nothing that made her less of the woman I knew her to be. A strong, fierce, kind, and, yes, beautiful woman.

And so I knew in that moment that even if she spent a hundred nights with Skarde, it wouldn’t make her less in my eyes.

I laid on my rock, watching the clouds roll by through the perfect blue sky, and let the anger melt from my body.

I glanced back toward the homestead when I heard the barn door creak open and closed; Soren left, not glancing my way at all. He headed straight back to the path that led into town.

Not long after, I heard the barn door again, and I knew it was Brenna. I wasn’t ready to have that conversation, so I remained on my rock and let her continue into the house.

However, it hadn’t occurred to me she would want to seek me out to talk. When I heard the approaching footsteps, it honestly startled me. I caught up quickly, realizing who it must be. When I knew she was only a few steps away, I sat up and turned to face her.

“Hi,” she offered in a solemn voice. “Bjorn, can we talk?”

“Come on up,” I gestured, offering my hand to help her climb the small mountain on which I’d perched.

She scrabbled up easily with one tug and claimed a spot beside me.

“Bjorn, I’m sorry about your parents. I assumed it was an accident. I didn’t realize you believed they were murdered. That’s just… horrible. Horrible and sad and wasteful.”

“Thank you.”

She tipped up her chin and faced me with a note of pride. “I’m not here to apologize for staying with Skarde. He was kind to me, and whether he is a good person is not for me to judge based on experiences that aren’t my own. I believe that you all have your reasons for disliking him. I understand that—I had my reasons for doing what I did as well. My life is my own, and I don’t make apologies for how I choose to live it. Not any more.”

I was powerfully curious about her life before she came to us, but now was not the time to ask. Even with that enticing hint at the end.

“I don’t want an apology from you, Brenna. I don’t blame you for the choices you made, given what you knew, and I don’t hold any resentment toward you for them.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, but other than that, she didn’t react.

“I confess it shocked me to hear that way, given… everything else. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. I knew you didn’t have many options, or many friends, before you came to us.”

Brenna’s hands were together, clasped gently in her lap. I reached out and pulled one free, pressing it between my massive paws.

“But I hope you know now, you have friends here. Myself, and Signe, Yrsa, of course Astrid. But also Leif and Soren. We can be your family here, if you’ll let us.”

Emotions warred on Brenna’s face. Her chin trembled, eyes softening, then hardening before softening again as they turned glassy with moisture. My heart thudded, aching in response to her obvious pain.

“Bjorn, I can’t tell you how much it means to me, for you to say that. I don’t have a history of making and keeping friends, I’m actually terrible at it. I don’t let myself get close to people, it only gives them room to hurt me.

“But I couldn’t help getting attached here. I don’t regret my choices, but I was so worried you could not look past them and it would make me wish I could undo it all.”

Now I couldn’t help myself. Using the one hand I was already holding, I pulled Brenna close and enfolded her in my arms. She leaned in awkwardly at first, before I squeezed her tightly enough to lift her onto my lap in a more comfortable position for us both.

Wrapping her arms around my body, Brenna pressed her face to my chest and whispered, “thank you.”

I set my cheek on the top of her head, my arms loosely around her shoulders, and replied, “No, Brenna, thank you.”

And I meant it. I was grateful she was in our lives now. I didn’t know what magic brought her to us, or for what purpose, but as far as I could tell, it was very good indeed.

With Brenna pressed against me, I stared peacefully off into the distance. The clouds rolled lazily toward the fjord, where sunlight shimmered on the crisp blue waters and sea birds cried out for lunch from the fishermen in the village, returning with their catch.

And I felt home.

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