In the morning, I rose to a warm but empty lodge. I sat up and took stock of myself. Two arms, two legs, two well-used holes. One heart, happy and full.
I found water and cleansed then dressed myself. In my mind’s eye, Jarl and Fenrir burned like bright stars. My husbands were outside, chopping wood and stacking it in rows against the lodge. I sent a pulse of love down the mental tether, and busied myself plucking the partridges they’d brought in as game.
It was a morning like any other, yet everything had changed. Jarl and Fenrir came in one by one, with logs to feed the fire. They kissed me and took their kill to spit and roast it. When the meat was cooked, we shared a horn of mead and broke our fast.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. This was a morning I’d always wanted and never d
