Vetrúlfr stepped foot into his hall, and found his wife waiting for him, a horn of mead in her hand, and a smile upon her bow-shaped lips.
She handed off the drink and kissed her husband with a gentle embrace. All the while he returned the gesture, not daring to drink the honey wine until after he had let her go.
In that moment, she leaned in close and whispered in his ears.
"I'm glad you're back," she whispered, a voice brushing the lobe of his ear. "I feared for you every day you were gone. Your mother… she had to sit with me each night. I feared I'd never see you again."
He drew her to his chest, a protective hand cradling her head.
"You worry too much. It's not good for the child."
She chuckled softly into his tunic, and he continued, tone low and reassuring.
"It'll take more than a few sheep-herding zealots to kill me. The sons of the East tried, and failed. Fishermen and broken crosses won't be the end of me. I promised you, didn't I? I'll always return to your side."
